Images flicker, each one bringing its own sorrow or its own smile. Sometimes both. At the very worst, an impenetrable and sightless black and at best, a happiness so bright that it hurts the eyes to see, coming and going on some unseen projector perpetually turned by an invisible hand. One, then another. The hollow click of the shutter. Now stop. Freeze this frame. Pluck it down and hold it close and be damned by what you see. Henri always said: the price of a memory is the memory if the sorrow it brings.

No more, no less. I'm an idiot. I really need to let this crush go.

I'll come back to you," I say, "If it's the last thing I do, I'll come back to you.

The Mogadorian caught Number One in Malaysia, Number Two in England, And Number Three in Kenya. I am Number Four. I am next..." - I AM NUMBER FOUR

There's no set futures, only the one we make." - Marina / Seven

No one, and nothing, will ever hurt you as long as I'm alive.

We break our huddle and Eight immediately transforms into one of his massive avatars. His handsome features melt away, replaced by the snarling face and golden mane of a lion. He grows to about twelve feet, ten arms sprouting out of his sides, each of them tipped with razor-sharp claws. Nine whistles through his teeth. 'Now we're talking,' Nine says. 'One of your parents must've been a chimæra. Probably your mom.