“I mean what I said,” Daud answers, voice flat and inflectionless, utterly composed even in the face of Billie’s alarm.

“The monsters were attacking a girl — one of us.” The awakened, the ones of the grave, whatever they’re called now. “We were too slow because her animas was injured. It caught Mercy before we got back inside.”

He pauses, thinking, then looks up at her again. “I don’t know why I’m not dead. I could feel her being torn apart, but then she was gone.” Despite the harrowing experience, there’s something in his expression that’s almost lighter. Daud’s never been one to carry his burdens very openly, but it’s there. However, his expression remains sober, finger fishing out the thong around his neck holding the glass vial with its strange fluid inside.

“I noticed there was less of this, after.”