Isla's analysis of the process of becoming an Ascended was like a death knoll to Sam - she was talking of herself but the practicalities were the same. If she was right, if the operation was so indepth...there likely was no reversing it, for him or anyone else. Sam chewed on his lip as he fought down the heavy feeling in his throat.
_But you won't want to help eventually_ he thought, but could not say it. If he gave the thought voice he feared it would become true.
He stood with her and nodded, letting her lead the way. Honestly he was glad to leave the infirmary, the sickly sweet smell of illness just making it to his senses enough to be nauseating.
"So...if you cannot see it being changed for you...I su-suppose there is no hope for me?" He asked as soon as they set off - as little as he wanted to hear the answer, it was better to find out now and not when he'd let hope build in his heart.
