Honestly, she shouldn't have been that surprised. Fintan had survived the Everblaze, after all.

Why couldn't Kenric have?

His normally messy red hair had been cropped to short spikes, and she was slightly shocked to see him wearing a Neverseen cloak. More than slightly shocked.

"Kenric?" She gasped.

He stared at her blankly. "Do I know you?"

Gisela stepped in front of her. "No, you don't. We're here about the Initiative."

Kenric's face lifted into a cold, empty smile that was so unlike the one she remembered. He swept his arm in a circle around himself and took a step back. "Feel free to look around."

That was enough set her mind reeling on a different track other than Kenric is alive?! and his sudden oddities.

Her fingers itched for her eyelashes. She remembered all the times the Lodestar Initiative had been mentioned casually, or not-so-casually, when she was still with the Black Swan. She and her friends had sacrificed so much just to find out what the Lodestar Initiative was, and now she was going to find out everything in a matter of minutes. 

The room behind Kenric was narrow. It was actually more like a hallway, or a corridor. It was even more poorly lit than the room downstairs, and there were still no windows at all. It gave off a sinister vibe that slithered down Sophie's spine.

Even the fire from the dripping candles seemed to glow an evil shade as the Neverseen tentatively walked forward. Kenric silently brought up the rear. Sophie counted the seconds habitually to calm her nerves.

As the her count rose higher and higher, there was still no end in sight. She wondered what the passage led to, and why it was taking so long.

Somewhere in the middle, she found out that there was indeed a window. It was small and circular, and while the view outside into the town they'd passed through earlier looked crystal clear, the light that should've been coming through it and illuminating the corridor seemed to be swallowed by the darkness around them. The window provided even less light than the candles. It was slightly ironic to see the contrast between the happy townspeople dancing below and the mood of the task at hand.

The whole situation reminded her of when she had traveled the Vasari Corridor with her old friends when they had first gone to find the Black Swan—just a whole lot more sinister. 

But she was leagues away from smiling and laughing like she had back then. And as they got closer and closer to the end of the hallway, the skulking feeling got so bad that Sophie felt her hands creep towards her knives, her thoughts becoming jittery. She was both relieved and anxious when another lone candle could be spotted through the semi-darkness and Vespera beckoned them through another door at the end of the corridor.

Based on the view from window behind them, Sophie assumed that they had passed into a whole new building. 

The room they finally stumbled into wasn't much better than the dark corridor—she assumed that there was no hope for proper lighting in an off-the-radar Neverseen hideout. Or whatever this place was.

The walls looked similar to Keefe's Alluveterre bedroom walls when he had taken a fathomlethe, the marble-looking medicine barraging his brain with surfaced memories so Keefe could write them all down. Every square inch of free space had been covered.

It seemed like whoever had plastered the notes all over the walls had taken a fathomlethe, too, because when Sophie looked closer, she could make out hundreds of tiny phrases, words, and sentences. She couldn't see what they were, because the candlelight was so dim, but she assumed that they all revolved around the Initiative.

There was a small, neat table against the one wall. More scraps of paper were littered across the top, and Sophie was intrigued when she observed a notebook labeled 'criterion' sitting among the organized clutter. It seemed to be the same one Keefe had mentioned when he was recapping what he had done during the time with the Neverseen. She itched to get a closer look.

At second glance, the room wasn't that big—just a little more than half the size of the first grand room Sophie and the Neverseen had walked into. Granted, it was large by human standards, but scaled compared to the spaces the elves usually built.

Sophie restrained herself from going over to the desk by adjusting her eyesight so she could see what else was in the room. She was pleased to say that she'd gotten quicker at adapting her eyes to see in the dark since her Exillium training.

The wall with the door they'd just come through was also completely covered in slips of paper, like a flooded canvas. She caught some phrases like gnomes—Ravagog and combine plans? and the Shade.

One piece of paper made Sophie catch her breath: Use the Moonlark. It probably meant that she would be an essential advantage to the Neverseen when they faced off against the Black Swan.

But when she spotted what occupied the last wall, she forgot how to breathe.

It was a view into another room.

But it was not like the other rooms they had passed into; this room was enclosed by bars. Thick, dark, metal ones.

Sophie got an odd sense of déjà vu, even though she knew she'd never even been in this building before.

She unwittingly stepped forward, almost in a daze, and reached out to brush her fingers against the cold metal. She craned her neck for a better view, and peered at a chair in the exact center. It had cut ropes hanging from the sides and a few black marks that looked like seared handprints. There were no windows or candles, so she guessed that if it was closed off to the room they were standing in at the moment it would be pitch black.

But her body went completely numb when she saw what word spilled across the top of the one wall in curly black letters:

Criterion.

She slowly turned her head back to the table. At the notebook labeled with the name word.

What did it mean?

Vespera, Gisela, and Ruy were all examining the walls plastered with notes. Kenric was examining the Neverseen members, hands clasped behind his back.

Finally, Gisela spoke up. "Are we ready to progress to the next stage of the timeline?"

"Yes." Sophie still struggled with the fact that this cold, distant, and unfriendly voice was the same one that she'd relied on for comfort and counsel so many times. "But it's not the stage you're thinking," he continued. "I moved the... relocation part."

Gisela head snapped up. "To sooner or later?"

"Sooner. We're ready."

Lady Gisela's lips twisted into her own rendition of Kenric's cold smile. "Perfect. It's high time this world gets the leadership it needs."

Sophie had been listening attentively, and her head spun as a memory surfaced at Lady Gisela's words—the first time Fintan had mentioned the Lodestar Initiative, when the Drakostomes plague was still underway, and the Council had called a meeting with the gnomes.

"This is madness," Councillor Terik had shouted at Fintan when he summoned fire.

"No—it's called taking action," Fintan snapped back. "A new concept for you, I realize. I remember when I was a Councillor. Always sitting back, thinking we needed more time, more information, more thorough consideration. We claimed it proved our superior wisdom. But really? We were cowards. Afraid to make the hard choices and do what needed to be done."

"And what are you accomplishing by killing the gnomes?" Emery had shouted.

"It's called getting your attention," Fintan said. "We have a plan—one that I wish I could take credit for, but that's owed to our previous leader. It's a shame she couldn't be here to see her vision realized. In the end, she was a coward too. She wanted to think more. So I removed her to see the Lodestar Initiative through."

And then the second  time the Neverseen had dropped a vital clue about their plan—at the Peace Summit.

  Councillor Emery had been speaking. "...We all share the same goal: a united world where our people can coexist peacefully, with a proper balance of freedom and structure to maintain order—"

"And there we have the greatest lie of the elves," Fintan had interrupted, struggling to stand with his clunky chains. "We talk of freedom and equality—but demand authority and superiority. And why shouldn't we? Simply put: We're better, on every level. Smarter. More powerful. With talents and skills none of you can even comprehend."

Angry shouts had erupted from the other rulers, and Sophie had slouched in her chair.

She'd heard the elves refer to themselves as superior many times—and it had always made her uncomfortable. But to broadcast it so boldly in front of the other species was both uncalled for and insulting.

"There's no need to be offended," Fintan called over them, resting his chained hands on the glowing table. "Being superior isn't all it's cracked up to be. We're stuck solving all of your problems, trying to keep millions of people with different wants and needs and challenges satisfies with their lives. Why do you think we're here?"

"Before you start shouting again," Councillor Bronte had interrupted, "remember that you're the ones who voted that Fintan be allowed to attend. Perhaps now you see why we've been working so hard to silence them."

"But I won't be silenced!" Fintan had shouted. "Because the old ways are failing—have been failing for centuries. This world doesn't need diplomacy. It needs quick, decisive leadership from someone who offers actual solutions. Someone not afraid of making hard choices. Someone willing to make changes. Let's be honest—how many of you fully expect to have most of your demands ignored during these negotiations?"

Sophie remembered herself being confused, and the leaders exchanging a few more heated sentences before Mr. Forkle stood up.

"What you're witnessing is the folly of the Neverseen. They don't offer solutions. They shout and wail and stir up unrest, and make everyone lose focus on what actually matters. Let's not forget that we're here today because one leader"—he pointed at King Dimitar—"decided to violate the treaty his people signed, in large part because he was listening to the advice of the Neverseen. Surely you've heard of the disgusting plauge they unleashed on the gnomes in a pitiful attempt to force the species into slavery..."

He had said some more words, and of course everyone else had had something to say, too. But Fintan called the attention back to him. 

"Isn't it ironic to hear such a speech coming from someone who is himself the leader of a rebellion?" Fintan had asked. "Someone who trusts the Council so little he won't stand in front of them under his true identity. Someone who relies on fake names and false appearances and works on his projects in the shadows. He may like to believe that he's better than me, but in all the ways that matter, we are very much the same. And we've both earned the power we've acquired because the people of this planet—regardless of their species—are desperate for the guidance and direction needed to survive the coming crisis. Our world has far greater issues than rebellious ogres—in fact, I happen to know that a primary reason King Dimitar was initially open to my suggestions is something you all grow more frustrated with every day. And if you think this Council is ever going to offer you a solution, get ready to be severely disappointed. They'll hem and haw and return to their glittering castles—maybe even erase the problem from their minds and pretend it no longer exists."

"And what exactly is this problem that you speak of?" King Enki had asked.

Fintan's eyes had focused on Sophie's, his lips curling into a smile that had given her prickles. "The problem is humans."

"What do we do, Fintan asked, "With a species that's clever enough to build and create, yet foolish enough to design its own ruin? Creatures so violent, they're always at war—but with others of their own kind? Creatures that destroy everything they touch, including this planet we're all forced to share? Creatures so prolific, they've consumed the majority of the productive lands, and yet even the Councillors themselves refuse to classify them as intelligent? Creatures we hold to no treaties—no codes of honor—and no laws except their own flawed logic? Creatures that don't even know we exist?" His eyes had roved around the table, before coming to rest again on Sophie. "To them, we're nothing more than silly stories and legends. We're magical. Mythical. Credited to their own fanciful imaginations. And should they discover our existence, their only response would be violence. And yet what has our Council done about it?"

"Another clever way of distracting us from the actual issues at hand," Councilor Emery said. "At this rate, the Summit will stretch on indefinitely."

"We can't have that," Fintan had told him. "I have a timeline to stick to."

"A timeline for what?" Queen Hylda had asked.

"The realization of my vision."

Sophie's eyes widened as she slowly started to piece things together.

The last memory that surfaced was when Atlantis was flooding, and Gisela had given her the choice between stopping her or saving the people.

"Clearly you're still refusing to trust me," Lady Gisela had called from the promenade. "Do you really not see how much I'm trying to help?"

"What I see," Keefe snapped, earning a groan from Ro as all heads whipped towards where they were hiding, "is you dressed up like the Neverseen."

"It's called taking back what's mine," Lady Gisela had told him. "You have no idea how many strings I've had to pull—how many plans I've had to weave together—to clean up Fintan's mess and get us to this moment. But here we finally are."

"We're not a we," the old Sophie had reminded her.

"That's what you keep saying. And I've been waiting for you to realize your mistake. But this one"—she pointed to Vespera, who stood with folded hands, studying her—"has accelerated the timeline. So it seems I need to give you both a nudge."

The exchanges after that were insightful, but not what she needed—so Sophie's mind skipped ahead.

"I see you sneering at me," Gisella was saying. "I even understand why. The change our world needs comes with a cost. One many of you are afraid to pay. But we must, if we want to save what matters most. That's the truth the Black Swan refuses to accept. And it's why they'll fail. Both of our orders are fighting the same problems—but mine is the only one willing to make the necessary sacrifices."

"You mean murdering people, and burning down cities, and threatening entire species, and collapsing a castle full of people, and torturing humans for research?" Sophie had asked. The last accusation earned a wave of gasps.

Lady Gisela had shrugged. "I already told you I'm here to clean up Fintan's mess. But sometimes we do have to tear down what isn't working in order to have enough space to rebuild something stronger. That's what she taught me." She pointed to Vespera. "Her teachings have guided every plan I've built. And now we'll finally have a chance to combine our visions."

"They cannot be combined," Vespera informed her. "Our philosophies are different."

"They're not as different as you think. Once you read my archtype—

Keefe had interrupted her, and more exchanges had followed—until Gisela forced Sophie to make her first impossible decision when she shot Ro.

"Since you've taken it upon yourself to steal from me, I'm no longer feeling generous. So you can either use that on the princess, or save it for Sophie's family. But you won't be able to do both."

The old Sophie had closed her eyes, giving herself one second to sink into dread and anguish. Then she told Linh, "Do it. Ro needs it more than they do."

"Fascinating," Lady Gisela said as Linh pressed the green blob onto Ro's chest. "I wonder if this is proof that you're finally learning. I guess we'll see soon enough."

And then the next one.

"Mostly I needed the princess out of commission so I could teach you some proper priorities. I must get both of you ready for everything ahead."

"They will never be," Vespera warned, still trapped in Ruy's force field.

"We'll see soon enough," Lady Gisela told her. "I'll win either way—I made sure of it. But I'm hoping to see some growth. Before we start the new game, though, I need your answer. Ready to work together? Or ready to go back to prison?"

"You're not giving me much of a choice," Vespera had noted.

"No," Lady Gisela had agreed.

Vespera nodded. "I suppose I can respect that. Very well. Consider me your reluctant new ally."

"Uh, do you really think we're letting either of you walk away from here?" Sophie had asked.

"Yes," Lady Gisela had said. "Because there's another reason I recruited a Psionopath."

White light flashed again, and Ruy had shouted something Sophie couldn't hear over the screams as he raised his arms and pulled them back down in a strange twisting motion.

Thunder boomed, shaking the city hard enough to crack some of the crystal towers, sending shards raining down on the fleeing crowd. All of Ruy's force fields vanished as he stretched out his arms again, sending bolts of lighting blasting into the dome.

Linh had shrieked and stumbled backwards as darkness poured into the city though a jagged, inky splotch. It took Sophie a second to realize the falling streaks weren't made of shadows...

...Atlantis's force field had been breached.

"You now have two choices," Lady Gisela had shouted over the roar of the rain, which was falling down hard enough to rock the buildings.

Sophie almost relived the dread and helplessness she had felt as everything crumbled around them, but she pushed through. She almost had the last piece.

Lady Gisela was talking again. "I want to see that you're capable of making the right decision. So I'll make this simple." She had used her free hand to pull a vial of Candesia's pale light from her cloak, along with a small crystal that looked like it had been shattered and glued back together. "You can take this light and this crystal and use both to bring Ro to Foxfire."

She and Ruy made it clear that there was no way to take the things from her hands.

"...This isn't a bargain. It's a test. To see if you're beginning to understand the losses and gains we're going to face in the times ahead. Which is why your other option is to stay. Ignore my help. Do what you always do—try to have it all, try to be the hero—and fail. You may even drown, depending on how long it takes for you to accept that there's nothing you can do to stop this—even with your Hydrokinetic friend. And by then, it will be too late for the princess."

She pointed above them, to where the hole Ruy had punched through the force field was already twice as wide. Then to Linh, who was leaning on Tam, veins bulging in her forehead as she strained to keep the water away from Ro. She finished by pointing to the rising water, which was now past their ankles—and the canals were already spilling over their banks.

"You're destroying an entire city—to test us," Keefe had said.

Each word had had shockingly little bite. And there was no fury in his voice. No rage.

Only bleak recognition, as if Keefe had stared into the monster's eyes and realized it was far to wicked to face.

"We should've let go of this city long ago," Lady Gisela told him. "Atlantis is out past—not our future—and the more we cling to it, the more impossible it is for us to move forward."

"It's also filled with thousands of innocent people," Sophie had snapped.

"Yes, and the strongest and smartest of them will manage to evacuate," Lady Gisela told her. "The rest aren't worth saving. And let's not forget that many, many more will be in danger if King Dimitar declares war—which he absolutely would if he found out you had a chance to spare his only daughter and ignored it. The right choice isn't easy, Sophie. But that doesn't mean it's not right. I need you to show me that you understand that."

Of course, the old Sophie had chosen to save Atlantis, and it all had worked out in the end.

But she now could see Lady Gisela's point that her eyes were open. 

She'd finally gotten the last puzzle piece; but now that she was looking at the finished picture, it was like staring into the void she passed though when she teleported.

Sophie stumbled backwards, the weight of everything that had just suddenly cleared up dropping their full force onto her and making her suck in a breath. Her mind was spinning.

The Neverseen constantly talking about hard choices—

The Council not making any decisions—

The Neverseen announcing that the old ways were failing—

Fintan and Lady Gisela's clashing visions—

All the tests, the plans—

Vespera saying that she and her old friends would never be ready—

Gisela announcing that the smartest and strongest would make it out of the Atlantis flooding alive, and the rest weren't worth saving—

The human readings, asking which Keefe would save—

Fintan talking about humans being a problem in front of all the species' leaders at the Peace Summit, putting his ideals into their minds—

'Criterion'—

The mysterious cell-room next to her—

And Sophie finally understood, with dawning admiration, what the Neverseen were planning to do.