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“Screwface is still silent,” I say She looks down, fearing the man is dead It is likely, since our only mole on the Annihilo failed to warn us of Atalantia’s ae of scenery “Good To your slots Let’s get our girl back”

Rhonna scoops up her vacuuueless, and slides down the ladder to the starShell bay I feel a pang of guilt I told my brother I’d keep her safe If I wasn’t so short-staffed, I could concoct a reason to keep her on the Necro, especially considering her role today may be more important even than my own

I grab Alexandar’s aresture to Thraxa’s paint stamp I ask him to do the honors “I know you were close to Kalindora,” I say as he picks up the contraption He nods at the er sister

He toggles through the options on the paint sta Grandfather to train her But she was best friends with Atalantia and Anastasia He didn’t want to give Octavia another weapon” Alexandar looks up “When he took the house to Europa, she chose her Sovereign over her faun at my face “What’ll it be? Goblin black, Valkyrie blue, Minotaur purple, Julii jade…”

“Blood Red”

—

In the spitTube again

Waiting for the kill

I hate this part

Amind is always fed At rest, mine eats itself

How many times have I been here? Sealed in a wo? The confines afflict me with dread Dread not of what lies beyond—you can never prepare for that game—but that this will be my eternal tomb

Cursed to live to kill Is this who I will always be?

Is this the life I crave? To rise before the sun? To ser and I grow older? To sleep under tanks, in the ruins of cities, ast the corpses?

I no longer believe in the Vale I a dead