"Don't you see?" The head doctor's eyes were blazing with fervor. "That fruit isn't just food. It's power! Pure, concentrated power!"
"And if we keep eating it—if we eat enough of it—we might even become Blessed ourselves!"
The word hung in the air like a curse.
Blessed.
The ultimate aspiration of every mortal who had ever lived.
To be Blessed was to be elevated above the common masses.
To wield powers that defied the laws of nature.
To be respected and admired and feared wherever you went.
It was the dream that every child harbored and every adult secretly nursed, even when they knew it would never come true.
But these adults, these corrupt, greedy, worthless adults had found a shortcut. Or so they believed.
"Get out of the way, little girl!" The doctor said. "We don't want to hurt you. We just want the boy to do his job."
"He's not your slave! He's not your—"
"Enough!"
The doctor lunged forward, and Anya knew with absolute certainty that they were going to take Mika.
