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She never would have believed herself capable of such brutality, but there’s something oddly comforting in discovering this steel inside herself. Whatever comes next, she knows she has the will to confront it.
Hephaestus has been waiting to die ever since he fled the fog. He persevered to rescue Ellie, then he stayed alive because his mother needed him. He stalked this island from one end to the other like a soul in purgatory. He screamed in his sleep every night, fearing the dark and the quiet, terrified of other people.
She’ll have to wake the humans, she decides. That’s the only way. As soon as the fog’s halted, she’ll go down to Blackheath and start releasing them from their pods. If they want their world back, they can work for it, the way she has.
“The world ended ninety years ago because too many people just let it,” I say. “They had a chance to change things, to write a different future, and instead they gave themselves to apathy. They let themselves believe the job was too big so they wouldn’t risk failing. This is how you save the world, Emory. One failure at a time, but always in the right direction.
For the first time, Emory sees the pain burning at the heart of this woman, the agony of living. She’s been trapped here for ninety years, lied to by people who cared more about her skills than her well-being. In that light, she seems more villager than human.
“You’ve killed everybody,” I say in Emory’s mind. “Kindness first, always,” she replies defiantly. “You taught us that. I just wish you understood what it meant.”
“They wanted to create a new world for us, but they both thought they had to burn the old one down first.”
Poor Thea. She barely got beyond the farms before the fog reached her. Of course the sixty-one people who were with her survived, much to their confusion. Once they realized they were immune, they huddled around Thea, trying to protect her, but there was nothing they could do. She died thinking of Hephaestus.

