It's incredible how much stamina you can find when you're fighting and enemy in battle, even if that enemy is just in your imagination.

I'd been so set on an escape that was now impossible, and the only form of freedom left to me was death. It was a terrible kind of freedom—one from misery and pain, yes, but also one from lightness and laughter and life. It was an absence of everything.

Nobody cares. You shouldn't either.

Something in my gut twisted so hard that it felt like I was being tickled by an invisible hand, and it took me a moment to realize what it was. Hope. It had been so long since I'd felt it that the sensation was like something living inside me, something wonderful waiting to break free, just like I was.

Only another twenty thousand or so days of this to go.

This place is full of unwritten rules.

The world is an inferno. It will burn until every nation has fallen, until all who oppose us are dead, until people see the true light.