The wind howled on the old airstrip. Dust and small rocks flew around. The ground was cracked, just like the old memories coming back to me. The air smelled of gas and blood, a smell I knew well. My heart pounded as I stood in the middle of the field, facing a man who shouldn't be there.
He looked just like me.
Obsidian Heitt stood a few feet away. His face showed nothing, but his eyes—my eyes—held a cruel kind of amusement.
"I always wondered what it would feel like," he said, tilting his head. "To see my replacement."
I took a deep breath. "I'm not your replacement." My voice was strong. "You're the past. A mistake."
Obsidian smirked and moved closer. "A mistake?" His voice was smooth. "Is that what they told you?" He pointed to the shadows where my friends, Sophia and the others, w
