Ninth graders with machine guns: its hard to make that a happy story.

Its the fate of all creators: They fall in love with their creations.

Still Caine hesitated. A big, warm bed. A beautiful girl to share it with. Food. Water. Everything he needed, just a few miles away on the island. The logical, rational answer was obvious. "Which is why the world stays messed up," Caine said under his breath. "People aren't rational." He took a few deep, steadying breaths, and prepared to die for power.

The point is,” Caine continued, “you and I share something in common, Sam. We were born just three minutes apart.” Sam felt a tingle go up his spine. “Three minutes,” Caine said, moving closer. “You go first. And then me.” “No,” Sam said. “It can’t be.” “It can,” Caine said. “It is. And you are… brother.

Okay, look. I get it. You're one of those people who thinks they have to help screwed-up people. Or maybe you're attracted to dangerous, unbalanced people. But listen up: I'm not Edward and you're not Bella" - Lana

It's not about who's got powers, morons. It's about who's not afraid. And who's going to do what has to be done.

But when reality was hopeless, fantasy became more and more necessary.