That night, Enki found Lulal on a secluded balcony, staring at the stars. The young man's face was troubled.
"He believes he is saving us," Lulal said. "He truly believes it. It is not a lie."
" The most dangerous lies are the ones we tell ourselves for a good reason," Enki said. "He has built his entire world on one: that control is the same as care."
Lulal turned to him. "What is the alternative? If not control, then what? Chaos?"
"Choice," Enki said. "The freedom to be weak, to be flawed, to sing a silly song. The freedom to fail. That is the soil where true strength grows. Not the strength of a wall, but the strength of a spirit that can bend and not break."
He reached into his pack and pulled out a small, rough object. It was another piece of bronze, but this one was not a tool. It was a simple, unadorned bracelet, its ends not yet joined.
"I made this for you," Enki said. "A second key."
Lulal took it, confused. "It is... unfinished."
"Yes. It is a choice. You can have the perfect, finished world he offers. A world where you are his brilliant shadow, where every line is straight, and every sound is approved." Enki met his gaze. "Or you can help me finish this. You can help me build a world with room for the unfinished, the imperfect, the un-approved."
Lulal looked from the unfinished bracelet in his hand to the perfect, terrifying city below. He thought of the silenced girl, the dead sound of the stone, the cold fire in his king's eyes. He thought of the river's desire, the strategy on the barge, the mercy shown to drowning men.
He closed his hand around the bronze. It was cool and solid. A promise. A question.
He had made his decision.