This thing. This monster. Memory fragments exploded through his mind – documents he wasn't supposed to read, conversations he'd overheard late at night. His parents' faces, illuminated by emergency lights as they boarded the Ark. "It's for the best," they'd said. "The war needs us more than you do."
The war. This war. These fucking Harbingers.
"We have to kill it," Noah said, his voice so raw that both Lila and Kelvin stared at him. In the background, Lucas Grey crashed through another tree, blood trailing through the air.
"That's statistically impossible," Kelvin started rambling, his technopathic interfaces flickering green around his head as he continued trying to reach the base. "Your ability isn't even combat-oriented, Noah. The data shows—"