Magpie still held a serious grudge against Flux, ever since he'd had the nerve to swipe that thing she'd worked so hard to steal in the first place. Honestly, the gall of the guy!
But then, poof, he was just gone. No word, not even a peep in the usual shady circles, not a single soul had spotted him. It was like the lowlife had just vanished off the face of the earth.
"Fine by me," she muttered more as she hid from the police after a successful heist. One less pain in the neck. She just wish she could've shot him one more time.
**
It had been about a month since Joseph realized he could fly. Maybe more. He had stopped counting after he accepted that he was probably going to die in this place. The fortress was too fortified for escape, the guards too numerous, and he had yet to find the teleportation room. Not that he would have been able to read their writings even if he did.
Koriand'r had told him the Citadel was a cruel interplanetary empire, dominating twenty-one of the twenty-two known worlds in the Vega star system. Takron, the arena where he was imprisoned, was a place for entertainment, bloodshed, and slow execution under the guise of sport. The Gordanians were the muscle, brutal enforcers who kept the prisoners in check, while the Psions assisted them purely to satisfy their twisted scientific curiosity.
Despite the hopelessness of it all, there was one thing that kept him sane: Koriand'r.
Since their first conversation, he and Kori had spent every day together. He had never imagined he'd befriend an alien princess, but here they were. She had confided in him the horror of her past—how three years ago, she was a princess of Tamaran before her older sister, Komand'r, staged a coup with the Citadel's backing. Their family had been slaughtered, and Komand'r, in a show of cruelty, had gifted her own sister to the Citadel as tribute, securing her place as Tamaran's ruler.
Komand'r had always resented her. Kori explained that as children, her sister had suffered an illness that left her unable to fly—a deformity among their people. Their father, in response, had blatantly favored Kori, lavishing her with attention while all but abandoning Komand'r. Kori had tried to mend their relationship, tried to get their father to treat them equally, but nothing had worked. In the end, her sister had repaid that kindness with betrayal.
And if being given to the Citadel hadn't been enough, Komand'r hadn't let her go. Once a year, Kori was dragged back to Tamaran, only to be tortured at her sister's hands.
That was the least of what she endured. The Psions, upon seeing her ability to absorb solar radiation, decided to experiment on her. They wanted to know how much solar energy a Tamaranean could hold before they exploded. But instead of detonating, Kori had adapted. The energy had manifested in bursts of fire-like power from her hands and eyes—her Starbolts. Her suffering had birthed her greatest weapon.
Joseph had listened in quiet rage, unable to understand how someone so kind could be subjected to such cruelty. And yet, despite everything, she had not let it break her. She still smiled. She still held onto hope.
In turn, he told her about his life on Earth. About his mother and how she had died. About the nanites injected into him, the nightmare of running for survival in his own mind. About the thief who trained him, the heists, and how he had stopped a gathering of criminals before ending up here. He told her about the people he had saved, the people he had killed, and the nightmares that haunted him every night in this place. And, most of all, how he feared his mother would be disappointed in him when he died.
Kori had simply placed a comforting hand over his. "She would be proud of you, Joseph," she had said with quiet certainty. "Just as my parents would still love me."
For the first time in a long while, Joseph felt understood. Maybe it was the knowledge that they were both doomed to die here, but she had become his anchor. A true friend.
They spent their meals talking about their homelands, their cultures, the little joys they had once taken for granted. The days were grim, but in those stolen moments, things almost felt normal.
But reality always returned.
His powers had stopped growing after he reached a one-ton bench press and a 1.3-ton squat. The Psions, unimpressed, had started ignoring him. Occasionally, they would check in, running tests to see if anything had changed, but their interest had clearly waned.
Kori, however, was a different story. She was one of the strongest fighters in the arena. With her enhanced Tamaranean physiology and her Starbolts, only a handful of warriors posed any real threat to her. Unless the Citadel miraculously acquired the ever reclusive and isolationist Daxamites, she'd be able to continue winning. Joseph was grateful for that. If Kori had to keep fighting, at least she stood a chance of surviving.
But then fate spat in his face.
"Flux!" a Gordanian guard barked, slapping him hard on the back as they walked. Joseph didn't budge. "Better put on a good show today. I've been making a lot of money off you."
Joseph ignored him.
He stepped into the blinding lights of the arena.
"And now, for the season finale!" the Gordanian announcer boomed. "Our exotic star, Flux, will be facing off against the undefeated Tamaranean ex-royalty… Starfire!"
Joseph felt his stomach drop.