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I was young and could not see the weaponry my ancestors had left for me, the shield in the tall brown grass, the ax lying right next to the tree.

My people didn’t use mysterious powers to track you; we used deduction. Much more reliable.

Would’ve been nice if we could’ve all had normal, of course, but not enough people wanted to share. So now we all burn.

Syenite wonders if there is any point in hating a crazy man. It’s not like he’ll notice, anyway.

When we say that “the world has ended,” remember—it is usually a lie. The planet is just fine.

You’re abbreviating heavily, not lying. That’s what you tell yourself.

Honor in safety, survival under threat. Necessity is the only law.

The Leadership legends have the air of a myth concocted to justify their place in society.

There was the normal high that comes from the hormones of youth, that fresh sense of being unchained. But also there was the omnipresent feeling that It could go down. In those moments—which back then were all of our moments—your neurology was always code red.

That was how I came to understand, how I came to know why all these brothers wrote and talked so big. Even the Knowledged feared the streets. But the rhyme pad was a spell book—it summoned asphalt elementals, elder gods, and weeping ancestors, all of whom had your back. That summer, I knew what Fruitie was trying to say, that when under the aegis of , you never lived alone, you never walked alone.

“Home is people,” she says to Asael, softly. Asael blinks. “Home is what you take with you, not what you leave behind.”

In , Dad found a literature of himself. He'd read and , but from Wright he learned that there was an entire shadow canon, a tradition of writers who grabbed the pen, not out of leisure but to break the chain.