The first image was one I had seen before, although very briefly, in the house by the river in Japan, where I first met the Hooded One. Countless pictures had been hung on the walls, Hood's strange way of welcoming me to that house that Rayna had foreseen being near the place I fell into the river. Rayna had touched each of those pictures with her gift, and I saw a particular image in each one of them.

I saw the same thing in this new picture on the table.

It was me, dead, or at best, in a deep sleep, lying on a bed of stone, with nothing but gray surrounding my body. My skin was pale and lifeless. It reminded me of an ancient photograph, in black and white, of a dead soldier from the Civil War I had once seen in a history textbook. It sent shivers from head to toe, and I closed my eyes once or twice, squeezing them tight, hoping that the picture would soon change into something else, something more positive.

About the third time I did this, a new image awaited when I opened my eyes.

This one was even stranger, although no less frightening.

The view was from thirty or forty feet above the ground, looking down on a large, coffin-shaped enclosure of clear glass. Within the glass structure was a soft bed with a person on top of it, asleep or dead. The person was me, looking just as blank and pale as in the other image. I wore a dark suit, and didn't look much older at all.

For a few seconds I could do nothing but stare at myself, almost expecting to see movement—an eye twitch, a yawn, rolling over onto my side. But of course, it was a photo, and nothing moved. Then I noticed everything else in the picture.

Completely surrounding the glass encasement were a group of soldiers, standing at the ready, machine guns raised in defense. They were dressed in green military issue, but with no distinctive flags or emblems proclaiming whom they represented. The soldiers and the glass wherein I was laying all sat atop a rectangular pyramid of steps, at least fifty feet high. The bottom-most step was surrounded in barbed wire and heavy fencing material.

Outside of this barrier were people—lots of people—going all the way to the very edge of the picture. They were just standing there, looking upward at the soldiers and me. Some of them were holding flowers and ribbons.

It made no sense, but it put a lump in my heart.

After a minute or two, the picture faded back into its original form—my school picture. I waited for something to change again, but nothing happened.

The heavy feeling of dread that filled me was almost unbearable. What did it mean? Were those two pictures the only possible future before me? Surely there was something else, some far better outlook. Despite the heavy, vile feeling inside of me, I could not truly believe that no matter what I did, I would end up dead—be it in a world of gray dreariness or camped inside some glass coffin.

There had to be something else. There had to be.

Perhaps it was all a vain wish, a way for my brain and heart to deceive me so that I would continue on in the fight. But I surprised even myself when I stood up and threw the picture into the trash can. A renewed sense of determination filled me. I would not let some dumb photograph ruin my life or make me give up.

I convinced myself that the picture had just neglected to show all the possibilities. I would avoid both of them, and we would somehow win this bizarre battle against an unknown and so far unseen enemy called the Stompers. I wasn't sure where it came from, but I was filled with strength, and decided to go chat with Tanaka until I felt tired.

I went upstairs and found him snoring loud enough to wake the fish at the bottom of the ocean.

I woke Tanaka up and reminded him of his important duty as watch guard, and then went to my room, just as Rayna was sneaking back into the Mess Hall and retrieving the picture I'd left behind. She would not tell me about it for a very long time to come, but the photo had transformed into a third prophetic image—one that was even worse than the two I had seen.