“The kind that makessense if you can see the future.”
The words echo through the chamber and bounce around my skull like a fucking ricochet. For a second, all I can hear is the hum of machinery around us and my own pulse trying to punch its way out of my throat. Because…
No.
Nope.
Absolutely fucking not.
“Okay,” I say slowly, holding up a hand like I’m trying to pause reality itself. “So…what? One of your Ascended slaves has precognitive abilities?”
Malcolm lets out a soft breath of laughter through his nose, almost fond. “You’re smarter than that, Cason.”
Of course I am. I was just hoping itwasn’tthe other thing.
“You’re Ascended,” I say, and it’s not a question this time.
My uncle inclines his head once, and somehow, that quiet confirmation hits harder than every explosion upstairs combined.
I stare at him. At the man who’s been around my entirefucking life. The man who orchestrated my kidnapping. The man who destroyed Reese. The man standing in front of me now like he’s discussing quarterly earnings instead of confessing to being something not entirely human.
“How?”
Malcolm is silent for a moment. Then, “It’s been twelve years since my wife and I were in that car accident.”
That part I already knew. A drunk driver crossed lanes during a storm, and Aunt Claire died instantly. At least, that’s the story we were all told.
Malcolm’s gaze drifts somewhere past me, somewhere distant as he continues. “We were trapped in the car together. The engine compartment had collapsed inward, and I couldn’t move my legs. I could hear her breathing. At first.”
The room starts feeling a little smaller as something twists uncomfortably in my stomach. But I let him speak.
“I remember trying to keep her awake. Talking to her. Telling her help was coming.” He swallows, his voice trembling on the next words. “But it was all lies. I knew she was dying.”
I haven’t heard Malcolm talk this emotionally since my father’s funeral, maybe not even then.
“She bled out sitting beside me while I watched. And there was nothing I could do.” His chin shakes. But then his jaw ticks, and it stops. When he speaks again, his voice is more steady. “When they finally got me out of the vehicle, I flatlined on the street.”
Thatpart I didn’t know.
“EMTs were able to revive me on the scene and took me to the hospital. When I woke up…” His eyes settle back on mine. “I could see things.”
The low blue light reflects strangely in his gaze now, making him look different than I’ve ever seen him.
“Possibilities,” he says. “Fragments of different futures.Probabilities branching into outcomes. Nothing concrete, not destiny. Merely paths. Some clearer than others. And many of them included Ascended.”
“And your first instinct was to become a fucking supervillain about it?” I snap.
I swear he almost smiles.
“Actually,” he says, “my first instinct was fear.”
Okay…well, I guess that tracks.
“‘Fear is the path to the dark side,’” I mutter under my breath.
“Most of the futures I saw ended very badly,” he continues. “With violence and chaos. Cities burning. Governments collapsing. Ascended using their abilities without restraint. People like Reese Morgan.”
My jaw tenses. “Don’t.”
