The boy looked taken aback when he heard Clyde's words.
For a moment, the hatred and instinctive hostility faded from his eyes. Something fragile surfaced instead. Something that had been buried too deep for too long.
His lips trembled, and his gaze wavered, as if those words had struck a place inside him that had been aching in silence.
It sounded like something he had been longing to hear.
Someone actually cared about what had become of him.
Once, he had just been a normal boy. Ten years old with nothing special. He had parents who loved him. A home, a life small and warm and ordinary.
But it was before the Selection Stage, before the sky cracked open, before the world ended.
He remembered the day clearly.
They had gone on a picnic. The weather had been good. His mother had laughed when the wind caught her hair. His father had teased him for running too far ahead. The sky had been blue.
Then the sky cracked.
