It was time.

The Rebels gathered in the small Divinian compound. They inventoried their weapons, made one last survey of the garrison blueprints, rehearsed the plan one final time. And then they set out to destroy the Empire’s seat of power on Belazura.

Or die trying.

X-7 suppressed a smile. He knew which it would be. He was just sorry he wouldn’t be around to watch. “Div, wait,” he said, pulling his so-called brother away from the others. “I need to talk to you for a minute. In private.”

Div looked indecisively back and forth between X-7 and the departing Rebels. “Can it wait?”

“It really can’t,” X-7 said. “Brother.”

Div checked the time on his datapad and nodded. “Five minutes,” he agreed. “Then we need to get into position.”

X-7 didn’t say anything.

“Well?” Div asked. “What is it?”

“Not here.” X-7 led him upstairs, into the room that had once belonged to Trever. He shut the door.

He had considered letting Div go, showing some form of mercy to the man who might be his adopted brother. But that impulse was just a symptom of the sickness, the rot that had eaten away at his insides, turning his durasteel will to Sarkanian jelly. And Div was at the root of it all. These memories, these delusions, these repulsive feelings, they all revolved around Div and his stories of the past. He was the only link to Trever, the only thing tethering X-7 to humanity. With Div gone, Trever would die forever.

X-7 would be free.

“What’s going on?” Div asked. X-7 could tell he was starting to get suspicious.

He should just do it. But he wasn’t ready. Not yet.

“I couldn’t let you go with them,” he said. He turned his back to Div, picked up one of the old photo albums, and leafed through. Shot after shot of Trever and Lune, happy boys, happy together. But he wasn’t looking at the images. The photo album shielded him as he drew the palm-sized laser blaster from his coat, readied himself to fire. At point-blank range, there would be no risk of error.

“What? Why not?”

“They’re all going to die,” X-7 said coldly. “The Empire is waiting for them to arrive. As you should have been waiting for me.” He whirled around, raised the blaster.

But he didn’t pull the trigger.

Div froze. His eyes widened. “You sent them into an ambush?” he said.

“You’re worried about your friends?” X-7 asked. “Now?”

It was the final straw. If this was what it meant to be human, X-7 wanted nothing to do with it. Ignoring the threat to one’s own life because someone else was in danger? It was the quickest way to die. Other people were like anchors, dragging you down. If you let yourself become attached, you’d inevitably be pulled under.

This, X-7 finally understood, was what made him superior. He’d deceived himself long enough, pretending he could be one of them. He’d torn himself apart, pretending to be someone he wasn’t. Pretending to be someone.

It was a lie. He was no one.

He was X-7.

There was no escaping that.

“What is this?” Div said quickly. “We’ve been over and over this. It’s not a trap. Everything I’ve told you has been the absolute truth. You’re my —”

“Brother,” X-7 said. “Don’t worry. I believe you.”

Div released a nearly imperceptible sigh.

“That’s why I need to do this,” X-7 said.

He fired.