Akari huddled in her hiding place as the battle waged below. Kalden, Relia, and the others fought a dragon named Zakiel. She’d tried getting down there, but more Grevandi patrolled this floor—all Apprentices. They’d picked off the Unmarked one by one until she was the last one standing.

Her mana watch also showed 0/73. Otherwise, she could just copy Kalden’s trick and get to the floor below.

Then what? Join the fight? Even with full mana, she couldn’t scratch an Artisan. She’d gotten lucky in Costa Liberta, but this guy was on full alert, fighting dozens of Mana Artists from all directions. She’d be the weakest person there, without a doubt. Even Kalden had advanced again, putting him and Relia on equal footing. Meanwhile, she’d hardly gotten any stronger these past few weeks.

Deep down, she and Dream Akari had always shared this secret fear. They were different people, but they’d cared about one thing above all else: becoming stronger so they didn’t fall behind. They both would have done anything for power, and they’d each proven that in their own way.

But they weren’t the same. Not exactly. Dream Akari had parents who loved her—parents she’d never listened to or appreciated. But Real Akari had spent years of her life truly alone. In hindsight, that was a fitting punishment for what she’d done. Akari had helped the man named Ashur Moonfire destroy Last Haven and send its people to an island prison. Every man and woman she’d killed on Arkala might have once been civilians in that sect. She’d sent them there in her quest for power, and then she’d killed them in her escape.

Focus.

Feeling sorry wouldn’t help her friends. It wouldn’t even help her parents, or all the other people she’d wronged. It was too late to save her mother or the Martials she’d killed. But Mazren was still trapped in that prison, along with thousands of others. Advancement was the only way to save them.

The battle continued below, and mana flew through the canyon of broken hotel fragments. Her friends struggled without her, and she’d give anything to be down there with them.

Dream Akari would have disagreed, of course. She would have saved herself and lived to fight another day.

“There are worse things than dying,” Kyzar had said earlier.

That’s it.

Reptilian voices echoed farther down the hall as the Grevandi approached.

After weeks of searching, the revelation finally kindled inside her soul, rising to her lips. The words felt wrong to say—the exact opposite of who she was today. Nonetheless, they’d been true at one point in her life. Her past self never would have admitted it, but now it was her only path forward.

“I’d do anything for power,” she whispered. “Even betray the people I love.”

No sooner had the words passed her lips than the mana flowed through her soul. But this felt nothing like the euphoric rush she’d felt at Silver. This mana felt tainted, staining her channels as it moved through her.

Memories struck her as well, along with a rush of bittersweet emotions. She remembered being young, and the days before she’d become a Mana Artist. She remembered her parents and the simple life they’d given her. Back then, she’d never understood why Mana Artists like them would turn down a life of power and fame.

Now, the answer was clear as glass.

This life was the alternative.

And as the memories filled every corner of her mind, she felt her past self there as well, threatening to take control. It felt natural to slip back into her mindset. They’d always been the same person, after all. She’d lived these past few years in a cloud of weakness, and that weakness made her soft. But—

No.

Akari pushed her past self back. She was stronger in this moment than she’d ever been before.

Her consciousness stretched out into the web of dreams as she synthesized her memories and her thoughts. They were both one person, and they could choose who that person was. Akari embraced the memories and the skills, but she also embraced the changes. Before, she’d only fought for herself. Now, she had a purpose.

“I’ll do better.” She said, even louder than when she’d spoken her revelation. “I’ll make up for what I’ve done.”

She thought of Last Haven—not just the sect in the Espirian mountains, but the island prison it had become. She thought of the thousands she’d trapped there. In that moment, she understood why Elend had surrendered to the Martials and worn those cuffs. She understood why Relia had been reluctant to fight them. They’d all been victims. Yes, they’d done terrible things, but so had she.

“I’m coming back for you,” she said.

She remembered the dark form in the sky above Last Haven. Akari might be responsible for betraying the sect, but that man had pulled the trigger. She didn’t have a face or a name. She only had six unheard syllables, and an aspect that could wipe people from existence.

I’m coming for you, too.

The footsteps grew louder as the Grevandi drew closer. Akari took several deep breaths, calming the memories that flooded her mind. She’d spent hundreds of hours training, refining her techniques against the best Foundation duelists in the world.

What were a few thugs compared to that?

Finally she glanced down at her mana watch.

689/689.

Gold. Akari smiled as she stepped out of her hiding spot, armed with nothing but a dagger.

Four Apprentices loomed in the corridor. Two of them stood within ten paces of her. The other two held up the rear.

Akari cycled her mana as she strode toward them, taking in every detail of the scene. The left dragon was covered in small, silver shavings, marking him as a Metal Artist. The right dragon’s channels shone with a molten hue beneath his green skin, and he wore the heat-proof armor of a Fire Artist.

Kalden’s backpack lay on the ground behind the first two, along with two grenades.

The Metal Artist raised his hand, and his mana coalesced into a silver throwing blade.

Her mind raced through the possibilities. Four against one. If she tried to dodge or block their attacks, they’d overwhelm her within seconds. If she ran, they’d chase her down and get the same result.

She could probably outclass them all in terms of raw skill. That meant the close confines and chaotic environment favored her. Unfortunately, she couldn’t punch through their Cloaks, so she’d have to get creative.

The Metal Artist threw his blade, and it flew horizontally toward her throat. Akari put herself between the two dragons at a ninety-degree angle, forming a dense shield, no wider than her hands.

The metal mana ricocheted off her shield, spearing the Fire Artist in the chest.

One.

Akari rushed past the fallen dragon, putting herself between the Metal Artist and his two friends. If these were trained soldiers, they would have raised their shields and boxed her in.

But for all their strength and numbers, the Grevandi didn’t fight as a unit. Instead of standing their ground, they panicked and hit her with a storm of fire. Akari raised a Construct and dropped to her belly, letting the fire become friendly with the Metal Artist.

Two.

She snatched up Kalden’s pack pulled the pin on one grenade, and rolled it backward. She grabbed the other grenade and ran for the opening between the hotel fragments.

The corridor shook as the grenade exploded behind her, but it barely slowed the Grevandi down. Akari rounded the corner, and two sets of footsteps followed.

She waited for the first one to follow, then she hit him with a horizontal Construct, clotheslining him as he charged.

The second dragon skidded to a halt. It would have been a treat if he’d tripped over his friend, but you couldn’t have everything.

Akari yanked the pin on her second grenade and tossed it between them.

The ledge was barely big enough for them before and the blast, and it would kill her too if she stuck around. So Akari jumped off the ledge toward the battle below.

She barely fell two feet before she stretched out her hands and launched two Missiles forward. The force of her mana threw her back onto the floor below. An explosion followed up above.

Three?

The surviving dragon copied her trick, leaping over Broken Hotel Canyon and pushing himself back toward the open corridor.

Damnit. She’d almost forgotten Fire Artists could survive long falls. Of course he’d follow her.

Akari lashed out with a pair of Missiles, but that barely slowed him down. His feet landed on the precipice of broken concrete, looking about as steady as a mammoth on a tightrope.

Akari threw another Missile at his face, which he deflected as he regained his balance. She followed with a kick to his solar plexus, and he leaned back just in time to catch a stray blast from the Artisan below.

Her opponent screamed as the flames climbed his back, but he pulled Akari down with him as he fell.

Oh, shit

They flew toward the floor together. The dragon clutched her boot with one hand, using the other to throw a Missile at her face. Akari tried to block, but raw power beat skill this close, and the fire struck her vest and helmet.

The air left her lungs in a rush, and the impact cracked the visor on her helmet. Akari kicked off from her opponent when he struck the ground.

Four.

Then, by some miracle of raw instincts, she flipped through the air and landed on both feet like a cat.

Everything lay in piles of smoking rubble with two pieces of canyon looming above them, and the night sky beyond that. Relia and Kalden sat on the floor across the room, half-hidden behind a fallen pillar. Zakiel approached with slow determination.

Akari cast aside her broken helmet and pulled Kalden’s pack off her shoulders. She found one potion still intact, and she chugged it without reading the label.

The mana moved into her soul, but the number on her watch didn’t increase. Weird. What kind of potion was this? She vaguely remembered Kalden buying some aspected potions the day before, but those would be useless to—

“Hey,” a familiar voice rasped. “Shokita!”

She spun to see Hector laying on the ground, surrounded by a dozen bodies. He bled out from a long wound across his torso, but he held up a familiar weapon. The Artisan blade that Elend had won in Costa Liberta.

Akari accepted the weapon by the hilt, and Hector nodded once.

“Charged it for you,” he said through several ragged breaths. “Should be good for one hit.”

Good enough. She’d already killed one Artisan with this blade. Why not a second?

Akari drew in a long breath as she approached her opponent. She’d been hoping to take him by surprise, just like before. But he spun away from Kalden and Relia at the last minute, shifting his golden gaze on her.

Their eyes met, and his scaly lips pulled back in a satisfied grin. “There you are.”

He fell into a fighting stance, and a blade of red plasma formed in his outstretched hand. He raised it toward Akari’s own weapon. “Let’s see how you do in a real fight.”