Magpie reached the top of the first level. Instead of running to the exit, though, Magpie sprinted down a row of seats, yelling, “Catch!”
Nova’s heart galloped, as she imagined Magpie giving the helmet to Captain Chromium or the Dread Warden or even Adrian or—or—
Magpie threw it as hard as she could. Nova’s gaze traced its arc over the bleachers, one hand gripping the rail she’d just vaulted over, her mouth dry.
A pair of hands clumsily caught the helmet.
Nova blinked, dismayed. She stumbled. Callum?
He appeared equally bewildered, almost frightened, as he looked from Magpie to Nova. He was practically alone in the stands, most of the Renegades having made their way to the field to join the fight. He surveyed the helmet that was suddenly in his possession, not with a hungry greed, like some might have. Not with revulsion for its history, either.
He just looked like Callum. Awestruck and giddy.
“What are you waiting for?” Magpie screeched at him. “Put it on!”
Pressing her lips, Nova started moving down the nearest row of seats. Callum was an easy enough target. She just had to get close enough to put him to sleep. Wouldn’t be the first time.
Callum lifted the helmet and dropped it on top of his head.
It made him look like a kid playing dress-up.
Snarling, Nova catapulted into the next row. Callum was not a formidable opponent. She would get the helmet and she would complete her mission.
But she hadn’t gone a dozen steps when she was struck by a thought so staggering, so brilliant, that it made her stumble over her own feet. Her knee smacked the hard plastic arm of one of the seats, but she barely felt the stitch of pain, because …
She was still alive.
She laughed, a little startled by the realization. How many attempts on her life had been made in just the past fifteen minutes? And yet, she had survived them all. She was still standing, still breathing, and …
What was more, she wasn’t the only one.
Frozen in place, Nova peered out across the arena floor and felt as though she was seeing it clearly for the first time. Yes, there had been death. Not only Winston—Winston, who sacrificed himself for me—but others, too, heroes and villains alike. There was havoc. There was ruin.
But amid all that, there was still hope. Hope that things could change. Hope that this wasn’t the end.
Nova’s lungs squeezed. She had been a recipient of Callum’s wonder-inducing superpower enough times to know that what she was feeling was a byproduct of his ability. But she also knew her thoughts were the truth or, at the least, what she believed to be true.
There was still hope that things could be different. That things could be better.
She was not the only one who had been frozen under the weight of this realization. All around her, people were exchanging speechless looks. There was a clarity in their expressions, born out of the stillness of the moment.
Despite all odds, she still had this one precious life. She still had a chance to do things differently. Which meant they all could do things differently. They could choose a different future, a different fate. Together, they could end this senseless destruction. They could choose to rebuild, to create, rather than tear down and destroy. Isn’t that what Callum had been trying to tell her all along?
She realized that Callum was watching her from behind the face of Ace’s helmet, and she knew, beyond a doubt, that he recognized her. He saw her. He knew her.
And still, somehow, he did not look at her like she was the enemy. What would have seemed impossible moments before now seemed not only possible, but inevitable.
Life was full of second chances.
* * *
Not two minutes ago, Adrian had woken up, flat on his back in the Sentinel’s armor, feeling like he’d been struck by lightning, then run over by a truck. He didn’t know what Nightmare had shot at him, but he hoped he never came in contact with one again. In the first few moments after opening his eyes, he’d been confused, hurt, and somewhat shocked that he hadn’t been trampled where he lay. The arena was a disaster. The fight showed no sign of letting up, not until one side was completely demolished.
He staggered to his feet, hoping that the tingling vibrations in his limbs would fade with movement, and started scanning for signs of Nightmare. All his old fury returned, and he swore that this was the