Relief washes over me, but I wasn’t here to find my inner Zen. Every time I blink my eyes, old emotions surface. I see my childhood flash before me.
My father. Everything I kept buried. That which is illusory unlocks all that is real inside my heart.
He’s gone now. That’s the reality. I should feel relieved. But this feeling of loneliness hurts more than any of the physical pain this alien cyborg menace has brought me.
“When will you let me go?” I ask.
His grin tightens. “Time for sleep,” he says. “Tomorrow is the start of your transformation.”
He’s right. This isn’t a game. It’s not a place for finding love or redemption.
This place is not what I expected. It’s evolving with each word spoken.
This is a sadist’s wet dream. And I want to see more of it.
6
Kalxor
I’m real.
I know I’m real.
I remember the day I was born.
I come from Praxis, a galaxy defined by conquest. Our people were ravaged. First, by outside alien forces, then by our own. The old Empire was crushed, and the galactic struggle between human and alien life forms was waged once more.
My father was a meager potter. My mother, a kind woman who raised me well. We weren’t the warring type, but we were trained to fight when threatened. Everyone knew something else was bound to happen. It always did.
But as time passed, we forgot about the atrocities we had witnessed. My sister was too young to remember.
We celebrated life, love, and family. Every single day was a joy to behold. Those were the days of rich storytelling and long night swims in the sea near our village.
It feels like ages ago, but I still remember it like it was yesterday. I can still smell the salt in the air, feel the wind rush against my back, giving me goosebumps as I dive back underneath the dark waters. Even now, when I close my eyes, I can see it so clearly, my sister’s muffled laughter coming from above.
It was a time when memories of the old glory were cherished. It was a time when the Emperor could rely on the loyalty of his own followers to carry his dynasty forward. It was the time of the Spectre and the First Order, high ranked Xebulon officials who made terrible choices that defined the cosmos forever.
The base of power shifted over the course of several years. As one planet was eliminated, another empire rose. Another was replaced by human supremacists acting as alien imperials.
They unleashed their armory of unknown technology. Praxis was transformed into a never-ending source of division, persecution, and violence.
But we fought back and won. We took back our galaxy and iced out the Praxis separatists. We cleared the stars of the corrupt. As a symbol of our newfound strength, we unveiled a unique flag, wiping out the First Order once and for all.
But old flares came back to haunt us.
Our democracy collapsed. We were invaded again – the war wouldn’t end. And when the bombs hit, they laid out a systematic siege onto our world.
They killed my family, maimed the young and innocent, and they took me as a prisoner of war.
That’s when my new life started.
I became a chance inmate, transported to the prison dock space station far above, where I was observed and tested on for God knows how long. I played my part well, forming a relationship with the scientists.
I was naïve.
I thought I could escape.
Eventually, the test results came back, and I passed with flying colors. After my verification was completed, I was placed into one of the holding cells. They injected me with nanobots, strange chemicals, and foreign particles known to alter brain and hormone functionality.