Humanity was broken.
In worse ways than one could ever imagine, and yet it continued to thrive.
From his years of dwelling on such topics, Elijah had come to understand that despite the malignant hatred that swarmed people's hearts, there was still hope.
Hope changed people for the better. It always had.
But hope was not the gentle thing people liked to dress in soft light and angelic choirs.
It was ruthless — bloody-knuckled, heart-wrenching, a creature that clawed its way out of despair and refused to die.
It tore through the dark with raw nails, clinging even when reason whispered to let go.
There was nothing delicate about it. There never was.
After all, there was a reason why it was also hidden in the pandora's box, caged with other sins that made humans miserable.
Worse than hope itself was the loss of it.
With Alexei's antics, Elijah felt that truth pressing against him all over again.
