I stood in the hallway, staring at the ceiling while the four of them waited for my explanation. My mind was working through probabilities, running scenarios the way Strategist would have helped me do if I wasn't so exhausted that even thinking felt like wading through mud.
Elliot.
Would he accept us?
I thought back to how we'd met. He'd been a fan of Mr. Angel—the persona I'd used during my astronaut days. Had looked up to that masked figure who'd somehow made it to Mars and back. When I'd encountered him in Europe while playing Mr. Jester, trying to save Evelyn, he'd been starstruck despite the different persona.
Then we'd found Anika. A victim of the Cain Protocol like Evelyn would soon become. A young woman whose brain had been rewired to see certain me as a threat, to attack on sight without conscious control.
Elliot had helped. Had been kind to her when she needed it most. Had shown a capacity for compassion that reminded me why I was fighting in the first place.
