SAGE
I didn’t move from the ground.
No one moved.
Now what? I couldn’t fathom any way to ever pull myself from this dark pit. I didn’t know how to climb out from underneath the drill that dug me deep into the ground.
Then, my father’s words reverberated in my mind. No, not my father’s words—words from the man who wasn’t really my father but who I desperately wished had been my father.
His words reverberated in my mind: “It’s only because it’s what she wants. That’s how powerful her mind and body are now.”
Did he speak the truth about this? If so, why had he died? Did I not want him to live? Did I not want to be strong enough to carry him along?
Too many parts of that equation felt convoluted.
I only knew what I wanted now.
I wanted some tactile connection to the source of who I was and where I came from.
I knew I would never get that, and because of this truth, anguish blossomed in my heart.
I felt that anguish rolling through my body. Really felt it. It flowed through me like a river.
And then, I pictured sucking that pain out of my body and holding it in my hands, playing with it like a liquid ball. I shaped it into something dark and ugly.
Slowly, steadily, I molded my pain into anger. And then I shoved it back inside.
At that point, everything became clear.
Oh, yes.
Yes, I knew what else I wanted.
I wanted to make myself into the most powerful weapon Vasterias had ever come up against.
I wanted to experience what they’d really made me to be: Prowess. Strength. Skill.
I wanted to destroy everything Dr. Adamson had taken from me.
I would find whatever clues my non-real dad had left for us. I would hunt down a cure for Imogen. And when my work was done, and everyone innocent was safe, I would make them all pay.
Dr. Adamson. Vasterias. Every evil person involved in this entire, wretched scheme.
They would pay for my non-real mom’s death. And my non-real dad’s death. And Caesar’s death.
They would pay for every pain I’d ever felt and for the darkness in my heart now.
I would be the instrument.
I would forge myself into the tool I needed.
The stirring began deep in the pit of my stomach … a sharp, twitching sensation that spread out from my core.
It oozed across my entire body—this awareness of my ability to create inside me whatever I wanted.
And then, I felt it.
I felt myself transforming.
END OF BOOK TWO