The room was entirely dark. It smelled like old dust, cold concrete, and dried blood.It was a tiny, forgotten maintenance closet deep beneath the streets of Apex City. There were no windows. There was no sunlight. The only light came from a single, broken yellow bulb swinging slowly from the ceiling. Bzzzt. Bzzzt. The bulb buzzed like a dying insect.In the corner of the small room, Everett sat on the cold floor. His back was pressed hard against the concrete wall. His knees were pulled up to his chest. He was wearing his torn, dark pants. His chest was bare, wrapped tightly in white bandages. The heavy scars from a lifetime of war marked his skin.He was completely isolated. He had walked away from Silas. He had walked away from Lyra and Rae. He told them he needed to secure the perimeter. He told them he needed to check the tunnels. But that was a lie.Everett was hiding. The bravest man in the world was hiding in a closet. He looked down at his right arm. The new arm. The pale

Lyra leaned her forehead against his shoulder. "We are not following a sword, Everett," Lyra said softly. "We are following a man. A good, kind, brave man. If your right arm is slow, use your left. If your legs fail, Silas will carry you. If your heart stops, I will start it again. But you do not get to quit. We need you."Everett squeezed his eyes shut. A fresh wave of hot tears fell down his face.For ten years, since the System had taken him away from his family as a child, he had fought alone. He had survived the dark torture rooms alone. He had fought the monsters alone. He had always believed that if he did not solve the problem, no one would. He had to be the shield. He had to be the wall. But a wall cannot stand forever if nothing supports it."I can't be the symbol," Everett choked out. The confession tore its way out of his throat. He had hidden this fear from them for months. He had hidden it behind his stoic, calm face."I don't know how to be the Man in the Sky," Everett

Everett shook his head. "Stop," he commanded gently.The single word sent a shockwave of confusion through the listening world."I am breaking into the global network today to tell you a simple truth," Everett said. He stepped closer to the camera. The deep, ugly scars on his face were impossible to ignore. "You have been told a story about me. The story says that I am a god of war. The story says that I am a magic weapon sent by the Continuum to punish the wicked. The story says that I cannot lose."Everett raised his right arm. He lifted the pale, gray, unnatural hand up to his chest, right in front of the camera so the entire world could see it clearly."Look at this," Everett said. He stared at his own pale hand. “Open,” he commanded his brain.The whole world watched. They watched the great hero stare at his hand. One full second passed. “One, Mississippi.”Then, the pale fingers popped open in a clumsy, jerky, mechanical motion. The hand began to tremble violently. It shook like

The morning sun tried to shine through the thick, dirty clouds of gray ash. It cast a weak, pale light over the ruined streets.In a small, broken marketplace on the edge of the city, people were trying to survive. The war had destroyed their homes. They had no clean water. They had very little food. But today, something was different. Today, they were not crying. They were not screaming in fear.Ever since Everett had made his global broadcast, a small spark of hope had returned to the people. They traded pieces of synthetic bread. They shared blankets. They talked in low whispers about the man who was just a man. The man who bled. But hope was very fragile. And fragile things are easy to break.A cold wind blew through the marketplace. It was not a normal wind. It did not just make the people shiver. It made the hairs on the back of their necks stand up straight. The dirty puddles on the ground suddenly froze into solid ice. The loud noises of the busy market slowly faded away.A

Everett and Silas sprinted up the stairs of the basement. They burst out the heavy wooden doors and ran into the ruined streets of Apex City.They ran fast. Everett ignored the heavy, burning pain in his broken ribs. He ignored the clumsy, heavy feeling of his pale right arm. He focused his entire mind on the destination.They dodged burned-out cars. They jumped over piles of shattered glass from the civil war. They did not stop to rest."We are almost there!" Silas yelled, pointing ahead.They turned a corner and saw the old Sanctuary Plaza. It was a wide, open square made of red brick. In the center was a broken stone fountain.The plaza was crowded. There were at least a thousand people gathered there. Families, old workers, and children. They were all standing perfectly still. They were completely silent.Everett and Silas slowed down. They crept to the edge of the plaza and hid behind a large, broken statue.Silas raised his sniper rifle. He looked through the scope. He scanned t