Asural, Desmond, 10416 P.C.

Todd struggled to sleep that night. Images of the girl played in his mind: her sobs, her tears. Justine had told the girl in quiet, solemn tones that her father hadn't made it, and the hysteria that followed was heart-wrenching. The child kept shrieking for her father, once so attached to Todd and then struggling to get away again. He didn't want to let go. He understood this pain, this grief, the unbearable weight that burdened this girl, and yet Justine had ordered him to leave. He had wanted to argue, especially when the girl had fled to the corner of the room and collapsed in a shaking, wailing heap. He wanted to help. But he couldn't.

The turmoil of emotions within him almost distracted him from the aches and pains in his muscles from the long day of training. Benjamin had pushed him hard, and all Todd wanted to do was run away and find his way back home. He didn't want this. It was too hard, too heart-breaking, too much to bear. These people were so broken, so lost, just fighting for a way to survive and here he was caught in the middle of it all, an alien foreign to their sufferings and way of life. Here in Desmond, he was even more pathetic and weak than he was back in Amissah.

Coward. He had been brought here to help these people and here he was just wanting to run away. Todd opened his eyes, staring into the darkness consuming his room like a black hole. Run away. That's all he ever did. It was the only thing he was good at.

It was four in the morning, according to the alarm clock Benjamin had given him. He didn't know if he had slept or not. He didn't even know if he could sleep anymore. Getting out of the bed, he fumbled for the light switch, squinting as light flooded the room. It was a humble room. Small, but warm. Taking a deep breath, Todd stood still.

Why him? Why was he chosen for this? There had to be a reason — this wasn't a random selection made by this greater power above. Todd was meant for this somehow. But how? Why was a boy who was only good at running away chosen to be the weapon against the tyrannical powers of a monstrous dragon? Why was a boy known only for his cowardice chosen to be a part of a mission demanding courage?

Todd dressed and slowly wandered his way back into the TR room. It was the only place he knew containing an exterior exit. He knew it was stupidity, but he couldn't stay. He had to go. He had to run away. It was the only thing he was good at.

He walked across the empty TR room. It was eerie in the dim lighting — the full lights were not on, but the four corners of the room were lit by small lights casting shadows across the room. Todd climbed the stairs to the exit and opened the door. He expected sirens, but there were none. Only the empty tunnel greeted him. The tunnel to the outside world. The tunnel to find his way home.

He was an idiot, he knew. There was no way home. He was stuck in Desmond. He was stuck in his role as their Deliverer. There was no way out of it. There was no choice in the matter. This was do or die.

He sucked at the do. But he really didn't want to die.

Closing the door, Todd started back down the stairs. He walked across the room and climbed up onto the starting block of the obstacle course. Before him, the first obstacle, the monkey bars, sneered, suspended over the icy pool of water and laughing at his weakness. He had tried and failed at crossing them so many times already. The weight of everything that was required of him was crushing. The obstacle course loomed before him. Impassable obstacles. Things he wasn't strong enough to face. Battles he couldn't win.

Todd turned away from the course and did the only thing he was good at: he ran. He ran to the far wall and kept running. He ran around the TR room once, twice, three times. He ran and ran until he couldn't run anymore, until his lungs were fire and he was flaming, burning, cracking, aching. Then he ran a bit more. He ran until his legs were stiff, until he was coughing and choking on the burn in his throat, until he hit the floor with the world a dizzying fog around him.

He let it pass. Then he climbed the starting block again, breathless, the fire inside creating pain like nothing else. It was a fiery pain mixed with furious anger bringing tears to his eyes. He was worthless, he was broken, he was weak and pathetic, and yet somehow he was also chosen. Chosen to be everything he was not.

By dawn, someone was going to be proven wrong about it all.

Grabbing the second bar, Todd swung out over the water.