“Was it hard?” I ask. “For him. Before.”
Jack is quiet for a moment, and when he answers, there’s a weight to it. “Yeah,” he says. “Hard doesn’t really cover it, to be honest.”
I glance at him.
He’s looking ahead, but he’s clearly not really seeing the tunnel. Seeing memory instead.
“Following the Queen’s command did a number on him,” he says. “Not just physically. He survived because he could. Because he had to. But surviving like that…” He shakes his head once. “It leaves marks.”
That, at least, I understand.
Terrafeara isn’t subtle in the way it damages people.
“He and I both know joining the rebels doesn’t exactly sign us up for a quiet life,” Jack continues. “But at least now he’s choosing what he fights for. He’s not being forced to obey cruelty just because someone more powerful told him to.”
I don’t argue.
I can’t, really.
Not after the cell. Not after the Queen. Not after the easy, almost bored way she hurt me just to make a point.
Not after ten years of seeing what her system does to anyone it can collar, control, or profit from.
“Yeah,” I say quietly. “That matters.”
“It does.”
We walk a few more steps in silence. It’s not the strained sort. Just the quiet of two men with enough thoughts to fill the space without needing to spill all of them.
Then I ask, “Jamie?”
Jack’s whole face changes at the name. It’s not soft, exactly, but sharper, maybe. More alive.
“Varek’s told me about him,” I say. “Bits and pieces. That he’s with you. That the research into the rifts, all of this—” I gesture weakly with my good hand, meaning the rebellion, the books, the risks, the plans built on plans. “—it all keeps circling back to finding a way home.”
Jack nods once. “It does.”
“For him?”
“For everyone who wants to get out… if we can.” He glances at me. “But yeah. For Jamie especially.”
There’s no hesitation in it. No strategic spin. Just certainty.
“He’s incredible,” Jack says after a moment, and pride warms the words in a way that catches me slightly off-guard. “Smart as hell. Braver than he should need to be. Good kid.”
“Sounds like it.”
Jack exhales, looking suddenly older than he does when he’s joking with Sonny or talking through plans.
“But if I can get him out of Terrafeara,” he says, “out of this dimension, I will.”
The firmness in his tone leaves no room for question.
“This world’s too cruel.”
The words land hard because they’re true.
Not dramatically so. Not as some grand statement about evil and darkness and fate. Just true in the plain, practical sense. Too cruel for a kid. Too cruel for most adults, if we’re being honest.
