As I stare at Harper’s palm, her armour begins to move again. But it’s shifting more slowly this time, almost as if it needs time to think.

“She’s not going to hurt you,” Harper whispers to me from the other side of the table.

“All the suits are equipped with basic survival functions,” Silas continues as I try to push my craving for ice cream aside. “Flashlights, fire, and ice picks to name a few.”

And then, I see it. The surface of the glove is moving, almost as if it’s alive. Now that I see the movement, I see it everywhere.

“Has he seriously not figured it out by now?” Jonah mutters under his breath, still loud enough for me to hear even though he’s all the way at the other end of the table.