It's like . . . time is flowing backward. We're caveman archeologists in the ruins of the future.

Hockey,' mused Marcus. 'The sport of kings.

Manhattan was a no-man's land, empty, an unofficial demilitarized zone between Partials and the human survivors. No one was supposed to be here, not because it was forbidden but because it was dangerous. If something happened to you out here, either side could get you, and neither side could protect you.

I'm a good person," I said, "because I know what good people are supposed to act like, and I copy them.

I didn’t study medicine to watch people die." -Kira

It's not enough, is it? Just to follow; just to have faith in someone bigger and smarter and better informed. That's how we're built, that's how every Partial is wired - to follow orders and trust in our leaders - but it's not enough. It never has been. We've followed our leaders, and sometimes they win and sometimes they lose; we do what they say and we play our part. But this is our decision. Our mission. And when we're done, it will be our victory, or our defeat. I don't want to fail, but if I do, I want to be able to look back and say, 'I did that. I failed. That was all me.

I simply felt alone, one leaf sitting miles away from a giant, communal pile.