Xina had been right- the bunker was small- clearly meant for a last- minute escape. Iris had explained to her that everything else their ancestors built had been torn down by mainlanders, reducing the camp to tents- but the bunker had been carefully concealed, hidden inside the main building, which was left for showers and indoor plumbing.

There was only three rooms- though large, it was hard to stuff over a thousand Outcasts inside- one room was clearly meant for sleeping, but there was only a couple dozen bunks inside, which were carefully reserved for the sick and injured. Everyone else, including Liana, covered the floor, and it was hard to walk out without stepping on someone's foot or arm. The second room was colder- a mess hall, filled with rusty tables and even a kitchenette filled with stale rations. A few bathrooms were also located near the mess hall, cracked and covered in spiderwebs. The third was the coldest, had the highest ceiling, and was littered with armor, wooden swords, arrows, and stuffed dummies. Maybe it was once an elaborate training room, but it had since been reduced to piles of junk. However, it would have to do- otherwise, everyone might go sick from boredom.

Liana laid on the floor of the sleeping room, trying to tell herself that once she was rested, she could solidify the fog. She knew this wasn't a possibility- as soon as someone opened the door to the bunker, the fog would leak in- but maybe Liana could create a shield using her ability? People were certainly counting on her, and now she felt as if she had let them down.

Sleep did not come easily that night, but nightmares did. Her friends drowned in endless red fog, choking on their own blood, begging for her to help, as Blackthorne towered above them all, cackling as fog poured out of his mouth. Liana tried to move, tried to do anything, but her body and power were frozen by his hologram pad, and this time, it wouldn't shatter.

She woke with needles in her spine, and cold sweat trailing down her neck. Get yourself together, Liana!

Are you okay?

Liana sat up with a jolt, looking around, trying to spot Jerik. Yeah, fine.

Don't lie.

She gave up and pushed herself back down, looking at the cold dark, ceiling. I should've at least tried to push back the fog, like in Taylor's vision.

His Fortelling is like a web. You just chose a different strand, a different path. He didn't know you were going to tackle Blackthorne at Blackhawk Bay.

I didn't, either.

His mental voice wavered, hesitating. He can only tell the most sure futures. Others are shaky, and the smallest thing could set it off.

Has he predicted big things before?

A long pause made Liana shiver. Seconds seemed to melt into hours before Jerik finally responded. I think there's something I should let you know. Something he saw.

What?

He told me it was more clear than his other visions. He thought it meant it was more likely to happen.

Does it concern me?

Another pause, before he whispered, Yes.

Liana felt a little hurt that Taylor hadn't come to her first, but curiosity chased off the feeling. What is it?

SEAM. He thinks they're creating... Jerik lapsed into silence, searching for the right words. Another Psychokinetic. To rival you, and, if it can, they want it to-

Kill me.

The silence told her she was right.