The news came out swiftly and decisively. The Archangels had decided that we were to do... nothing. Nothing. Nothing to save her, that was. Instead, we’d do something afterward? Seriously? Like some cruel joke, Blood Thunder would get to parade her around and cut her up before the whole world. And we would come in and destroy the Demons... after. But this was supposed to be best? This was supposed to be what was right?

“This is absolutely insane, Miriam. How can you take a position—”

“Not now, Quinn.” The Archangel of Flight Ensifer stared back at me with tired, dark brown eyes. The rest of her body was transformed, of course, plated in thorny greens and reds that melted into each other with her heartbeat. The swarm of locusts around her were even more agitated than usual, circling her body and flitting out in all directions. “This is our decision, one made by our deliberation, and through consultation with the Chorus of Symbiotes. It is what must be, and so it is what will be.”

“You’re just leaving Russula to die?”

“She is an Angel, Quinn. She accepted this risk already.” Miriam sighed.

“Joy?” I asked.

“She is an Angel,” Joy echoed. “She knew what she was signing up for.” This time, even Melody simply bit her lip.

“I’ll leave you to figure this out yourselves. We have preparations to make for our action. It is important that we strike our adversary, and swiftly.” She turned and left, leaving the rest of us sitting around our cafeteria table. The cloud of locusts followed in her wake, though a few remained, presumably to keep an eye on us.

It was important that we strike in time, sure. But not in time to save Russula. “And what’s with this ‘Chorus of Symbiotes’ anyway?” I whispered.

“The Archangels meet with the collective consciousness we all share,” said Vespa. “As an aid for when the time comes to make.. difficult decisions.”

“And you decided that Russula needed to die.”

“We reasoned that our adversary is surrounding us. They want us to move rashly to save Russula. If we stay put, we can sow disinformation, cast doubt upon their claims. Then, while they are in disarray at the failure of their plan, we can make a strong push to retake our position. The time is not yet right to reveal ourselves, but it is fast approaching.”

“The time isn’t right? What are you talking about?”

“Quinn,” said Joy. “It may be hard to wrap your head around this, but there is a time and place for everything. In the grand tapestry of time, we have our parts to play. We have our cues. And the collective minds of our symbiotes are attuned with the tapestry of time through their connection to Gaia. They know what must be done.”

But what if what must be done wasn’t right? I couldn’t stand for this. I wouldn’t stand for this. The Angels never knew what was best. Back in Vancouver, they’d locked me up, told me I was a liability. And I hadn’t gone out of there, we wouldn’t have stopped Ecto. We wouldn’t have saved the world. No matter what Joy or Vespa said, the plan was... they were going to let someone die for no reason. If they could attack in a week, they could attack now. And if they could attack now, they could save...

Or maybe there was another way. My eyes met with Melody’s. She definitely had reservations about this plan as well. But it seemed that she, too, had bit her tongue in the presence of so many others. If only I could talk to her. Alone.

She winked at me, slowly. Of course, Miriam’s locusts were still watching Joy prattle on about what we had to do. About our place as Angels. They were distracted. I winked back. Slowly. But after establishing contact, how would we actually meet? When would we be alone? Abruptly, she stood up. “I... I forgot something in my room. Don’t wait for me.” Melody hurriedly brought her tray to be cleaned and disappeared through the door.

I stood up. “I... have to go to the washroom,” I lied, promptly following her out the door. She was waiting just outside and said nothing, starting on the way up to her room. I heard the telltale flapping of wings: one of Miriam’s locusts was following us. Melody eyed the creature with suspicion. As long as it was here, she wouldn’t be able to speak her mind. With a single motion, I snatched it out of the air. The locust squirmed in my hand, its six legs wriggling as I held it by its wings between my thumb and index finger.

I closed my fist around it, crushing its exoskeleton in the palm of my hand. The lifeless shell fell to the ground, and Melody and I sprinted the rest of the way to her room, slamming the door behind us.

Her room was very cluttered compared to the typically spartan bedrooms of Sanctuary 1. The bed lay almost completely unadorned save for an oversized stuffed teddy bear sitting by the headboard. The rest of the room was filled with potted plants in various stage of flower, from fresh buds to full bloom and wilt. The room smelled sweet, an aromatic mix of nectar and honey.

We’d made it safely without Vespa noticing. Or the others. For a bit, at least. And Miriam wouldn’t be able to report back either. As for Melody’s... where... “Where is your symbiote?” I asked.

“I killed her,” said Melody.

What? “What do you mean, you killed her?”

“Did I stutter?” Melody sat down on the bed, leaning back with her feet dangling in the air. Noticing my bewildered expression, she explained. “Things haven’t been... haven’t been right, lately.” The hexagon-shaped indent in her headphones was eerily empty, now that she’d called attention to it.

“Hold on. You could just... just kill them? Just like that?”

“Yes. I... She was just like Miriam’s little locust friends, following me everywhere.. Watching me. Whispering in my ears. Haven’t you noticed it, Quinn? Something is going wrong. The Archangels, the symbiotes, everything is growing... wilder. More feral. More out-of-control.” Melody’s eyes were wide open, almost glowing golden. “Russula was taken. They won’t even try to help her. They won’t even pretend...”

“What are you implying? That this is all intentional?”

The words spilled out of her mouth like water. “I don’t know. I don’t know anymore, Quinn. But when my own Symbiote was whispering, whispering in my ears, to just let everything go... to dissolve into my base instincts... When Grace had an episode like that, going insane, brutalizing that Demon. She could have killed you! I’m just... I’m... I’m going crazy.”

“Maybe you aren’t.” I sat down on the bed beside her. “After all, Vespa’s been whispering the same sort of things to me too. And...”

“I...” Melody’s breaths were short and fast. She took a moment to collect herself. “I had so much faith. So much trust in the Angels. In the Archangels. In our purpose. That this was all for a purpose. But now I can’t help but wonder if all... if it’s all wrong.”

“I...” I’d had many of the same thoughts. “You’re not alone in wondering that,” I said.

Melody broke. The tears started pouring down her cheeks, and they wouldn’t stop coming. She nearly tackled me, holding tight not because she loved me or knew me, but because there was nobody else. Her fingers clawed at my jacket. She wouldn’t let go. “Thank you,” she managed to choke out. Her grip didn’t loosen at all. “I... until you spoke out like that, I wasn’t sure... wasn’t sure if anyone else was feeling remotely the same as me. Remotely worried about where all of this is going. And knowing that there’s a traitor among us, I couldn’t just out and... and say it. As much as I love her, Joy would have never understood. She... Nobody born like that would understand.”

I reassured her as best I could. I couldn’t help but feel the same. It felt strangely reassuring to know that another Angel was struggling in just the same ways, wondering... wondering how to make sense of all this. “I don’t think any of us understand.”

She nodded. “No. But the silence only made it worse. The eyes were on us, all the time. The locusts always circling to keep watch and report back to Miriam. It was choking me. Especially after I... after I killed Apis.” She started hyperventilating again; I patted her on the back to help calm her down. “I didn’t want to kill her... I... she was my friend! My friend. And now she’s gone. I... I was so upset, so mad at her, and I took it out on her. I crushed her. And that only made things worse.”

“It’s okay, Melody.”

“I killed her, Quinn! I’m so paranoid. There... there are eyes everywhere, and sooner or later they’re going to find out, and how am I supposed to explain it? How am I supposed to say that I just felt she was going off the rails and—”

“Don’t worry.”

“And now Russula is going to die. She’s going to die because she saved me and hid me and was taken instead. And I... I...”

“Don’t worry.” There had to be a way to save her. Had to be a way. And regardless of whether the time was ‘right’ or not, we would do it. We would escape. Sneak out. Stage a daring rescue. We could do it. We had to do it. “We’ll find a way to rescue Russula, Melody. We’ll just have to find a way.”

She seemed hesitant. Naturally. But it seemed I’d given her a ray of hope. Her ragged breathing subsided. “How. How, Quinn? I thought of this already. I just don’t see how it’s possible.”

“I... I don’t know.”

“Even if there was a way to get past the enemies all around us, there’s still the matter of finding a way out of this place, now that they’re locking everything down. And Miriam’s eyes are everyone. Sure, we killed one of the locusts, but... there are eyes everywhere. Who could we trust? Joy is... Joy is out of the question, I think. Faith as well. Grace?”

Grace. Oh wait. No. She couldn’t have... or... I pulled away from Melody, tossing off the covers of the bed. There was... was there any sign? Anywhere? I removed the pillowcase, checked the pillow and fabric... nothing. Nothing... until I pulled up the corner of the bedsheet and found exactly what I’d dreaded. A small, brownish bug was squirming just beneath the covers. It was flattened from above, with a few bands along its back. Two beady little eyes were on its tiny face, with a sharp proboscis sticking out from beneath. A bedbug. Someone had been listening to all of this. Someone, of course, being Grace.

And as if on cue, there was a knock on the door. A familiar voice spoke from behind the frosted glass. “May I come in, Quinn?”