The Great Nate Exchange

Isla only turns her attention to Sunjata and the body he carries when she is sure that the Wraith is able to take care of her incision via her own abilities. And when she does, it's to give Nate a gentle but cursory glance over, wincing at the news about his eye (for diplomacy's sake she resists glaring at Ronin, but the feeling is definitely there). "He can have one of mine," she says to Jata - what's an eye between friends, after all? She's about to turn to face the demigods again when the Voice slithers into her mind, sparking through her bones and spinning her circuitry at speeds that seem unsustainable. Time doesn't slow, but it certainly feels like it does. Nearly, Isla laughs. That isn't Remi, she wants to say. He knows better, he wouldn't bring himself here. He'd never be... But the Voice has tested these waters before and found the duplicate back in the Woodlands. If she's sure now, then... so, so stupid... Wessex joins the mental fray like a battering ram, and Isla reels from it, sick and uncomprehending. It would be permanent. But she doesn't agree. We are here for peace, she protests. We aren't here to start a war, we... no, Wessex, stop! It's like she can already feel the blood on her hands, welling beneath her fingernails. Whose is it though? Remi's? Or the countless Ascended in the war? You have no idea what you're asking me to do, she hisses. Or what it will mean if I do it. You said it yourself that you could barely take Ronin with Nate. If I kill Remi in front of him, what do you think will happen? Do you think he will ever stop hunting us? Would you? She shakes her head firmly, as if to dislodge the Voice and the Wraith both. I don't consent to this. I won't be the monster they say we are. If you want to do this, keep me out of it. Because there's no stopping the Voice and Wessex from taking the shot anyway. Hell, there's no stopping them from commandeering her, consent be damned. ISLA pray for me pray to me