Back in the first war, when the Architects had been twisting human worlds one at a time, with a lazy indifference to how many millions were still on them. Back when nobody had any hope and every mad plan was worth a try. Idris had already heard that they were wrecking people’s brains in an attempt to replicate whatever it was that made Saint Xavienne special. He hadn’t wanted to have his own mind destroyed, of course he hadn’t. But he’d signed up because you had to do that thing, sometimes, that was bigger than what you wanted.
