Firstlife Read Free Page A

study...absolute conformity. To them, Firstlife matters just as much as Everlife, fate is a myth and, when we experience Second-death, we enter into the Rest, never to be seen by human or spirit again.
    Troikans refuse to negotiate covenant terms, offering the same benefits to everyone everywhere without exception. The same laws, too. To them, what is right is right and what is wrong is wrong, for one and for all. Everyone on equal footing.
    If one realm says the sky is cloudless, the other will say a storm is brewing.
    They’ve been at war for centuries, the other’s destruction the ultimate goal. That’s why they fight so hard to win souls. That’s also why picking the right side is so important. Someday, someone is going to lose.
    Here on Earth, the Myriad and Troika supporters aren’t segregated...exactly. They try to coexist, but it’s in imperfect harmony and there’s always an underlying hum of tension.
    Sometimes riots break out, and the government is forced to execute martial law to prevent an all-out brawl.
    A rare few people, like me, have no idea which side to back. We see merits to both sets of beliefs. We also see downsides.
    We are called the Unsigned.
    For us, there are rumors of a third spirit realm, the place we’ll end up after Firstdeath. My parents used to tell me horror stories about it, stories whispered in the dark of night. The Realm of Many Ends, where nightmares come to life.
    I’ve often wondered... Is Many Ends a made-up place intended to scare kids straight?
    â€œDo you?” Bow asks as she zips up my jumpsuit. “Have plans for the Unending, I mean?”
    â€œI’m not talking Everlife with you.”
    Her features scrunch with disappointment. “Why not?”
    â€œI’ll be here another three hundred and fifty-two days.”
    3 + 5 + 2 = 10
    â€œAnd?”
    And she will leave sooner rather than later. I recognize her type. Extremely optimistic until something goes wrong. After her first beating, she’ll cave and do whatever her parents want, guaranteed.
    â€œForget the next life. What about this one? Tell me why you’re here.” I motion to our illustrious cell with a tilt of my chin.
    â€œMy guardian sent me.” She strides to the second twin bed and sits, and there’s nothing graceful or feminine about her. “Told me to be a light.”
    Ugh. What I hear? Absolute conformity. “You signed with Troika, then.” Not a question.
    Her nod contains a thread of pride. “I did.”
    We’re going to clash so hard. “What is light, exactly?” What’s she going to be pushing on me?
    â€œWhatever is needed to help someone find a way out of darkness.”
    Darkness. “Meaning Myriad.”
    She ignores my dry tone. “Meaning a problem, any problem.”
    Well, I’ve got plenty of those—though I tell myself this situation is fertilizer, and something good must grow from it.
    â€œWhy are you here?” she asks me.
    â€œI refuse to make covenant with Myriad.” Covenant—the equivalent of signing a contract in blood.
    Sometimes, in an attempt to convince me to sign away my rights, I’m pampered. Isn’t this nice? This is what awaits you in Myriad. Most times I’m tortured. This is only the beginning of what you’ll endure in Many Ends. Not knowing what awaits me is the worst.
    â€œPrynne is supposed to be unaffiliated with either realm,” she says with a frown.
    â€œIt is.” How else could Dr. Vans convince one kid to sign with Myriad and another to sign with Troika? Which he does. All the time.
    She meets my gaze, a little surprised, a lot hopeful. “Do you want to make covenant with Troika?”
    â€œNot even a little.” As her shoulders droop, I add, “I hate to break it to you, but your guardian sucks. He—she?—sentenced you to hell. For nothing! No one here will accept your light .” Trust no one.