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“G– What? Got who?” Niko knew who, but his brain struggled through denial to catch up with the icy, numb horror that had already begun pooling in his gut.

“ Dad. Niko, he’s gone. They got him. Fucking Honeybliss. And not just him, but Loolae too. Someone broke into his apartment and her fucking gym.”

“ Gone? ” Niko could barely force the word out; it emerged as a whisper from his tightening throat. He glanced around the room, his gaze raking over the acoustic padded walls.

“Missing,” Zann clarified. Niko was able to breathe again, but only just barely.

To know they were potentially still alive was a comfort, though a pale one.

Honeybliss having a hold of Oliver and Loolae—the Xermotl physical therapist who had trained Niko to utilize his suit—was harrowing, a terror that he felt in every cell.

He swallowed. “You’re sure it’s Honeybliss?”

“Pretty fucking sure. They are clearly targeting you now, Niko. They even left a paper note, just for you, in Dad's place. All it said was, ‘ Estrella. Drop this or they’re dead.’ ”

“Fuck. Oh, fuck.” Niko tried desperately to think of a solution—any solution—that could fix this, make it better.

He couldn't breathe, the horror of his reality strangling him.

His gaze flicked towards Death in the background.

“Can we, uh, can… Can we run some kind of handwriting check on it? Match it to anyone?”

“It's typed and printed,” Zann said dully.

“What about security feeds? Galapol? Weren’t they supposed to be watching him?”

“Whatever the fuck Honeybliss did got around it all.”

“Cancel the broadcast,” Elliott called out to Lady Death. “And the file distribution. We have to cancel.”

“No!” Niko shouted, a new wave of panic coursing through him. “D explained it. This might be our only chance.”

“Broadcast? What broadcast?” Zann said, his voice tinny and drowned in static through the phone. “Is that him? ”

“Zann—” Niko felt dizzy, his pulse pounding in his temples and in the backs of his eyes. He couldn’t breathe. “It's— I went to Lady Death and— The copycat murders—”

Elliott pressed in. “No, we can’t go through with this. Not if it means your loved ones getting killed. This is over. It’s not happening.”

“ What broadcast?” Zann asked again.

It was all too much. Niko wrenched his eyes shut, willing one breath into his lungs, and then another. He spoke as calmly as the slurry of panic, rage, and frustration allowed him. “Zann. I’ll call you back. I need a minute.”

“I really don’t think you should be doing any kind of fucking broadcast right now!”

“ I need. A minute .” He hung up on his brother, silence briefly heavy in the room. Every second that passed was strangling him tighter.

“We can’t do this, Niko. I won’t do it,” Elliott said. His tone was deadly serious. The gravity of it only added to Niko’s agitation. “Let’s focus on getting them back. We have to.”

“Can—” Niko turned his gaze up towards Death, who peered at him with a quiet sympathy through her remaining eye. He ran a gloved hand through his hair. “Can we postpone this? Delay it to another time?”

He already knew the answer.

“No.” She pursed her lips, clearly unhappy to deliver the word.

“I explained it. Too many strings were pulled to make this happen. We had to work in tandem across several different networking companies, and my contacts hijacked them and these stations all at once across the stars to make this possible. We can’t pull this off again. Period.”

“Right. Fuck.” Niko clamped his hand over his mouth.

“It’s alright,” Elliott said. “We’ll find another way. Or just keep doing what we’ve been doing.”

“No.” Niko groaned. “No. We came this far. We can’t lose this. We'll never get this back. The public needs to know what Honeybliss has done. And innocent people are dying every day over this fucking bounty. We can’t lose this, Elliott.”

“Niko, your family might die if we do!”

They’d already had to push it back by several moments. The whole thing could fall through at any time. They had one narrow time slot to distribute this vital statement to people across the galaxy.

He had to make a choice. And he had only seconds to do it.

This broadcast would undoubtedly save countless lives. It would stop the copycat murders of innocent people from predatory opportunists pretending to be Elliott.

The distribution of the files would finally reveal the sordid secrets people of power and influence across the galaxy had kept successfully hidden away for years.

And it would also likely put his father and Loolae through an even darker fate than they were already facing down right now. It would possibly— probably, even—kill them. In a terrible, painful way. Their deaths would be on his hands alone if he made the call. Their suffering already was his fault.

Death pressed her fingertips to her ear, listening to some transmission. Her antennae flashed a bright blue. “We lost the Coroaan station. Galapol seized it back from my guys.”

Niko swallowed, his breath emerging from him now in short, sharp pants. Sweat crawled over his body, underneath the suit, his nerves prickling in fear.

Every eye in the room was on him now, waiting, watching. Elliott, Death, her guards and militia. The recording crew.

Outside, he heard gunshots.

“It’s now or never, Niko. But it’s up to you,” Death said. “This is your call alone.”

Elliott looked at him. “Niko… Don't do this. Please.”

Niko turned back to face the camera drone, his entire body trembling.

“We’re going live.”

A full minute of silence reigned over the recording studio.

“You’re sure?” Elliott’s green eyes bored into him, searching.

“Yeah,” Niko ground out, sounding far more determined and confident than he felt. He wasn’t sure at all. He fought himself to not give in to panic and renege on his decision.

“Niko,” Elliott breathed out. “Do you remember what you said? To stop you if things start going too far?”

Niko looked away.

“This is too far,” Elliott said. A heavy, tense silence hung between them.

“Elliott, this will save countless lives,” Niko said quietly. He finally lifted his head and looked at Elliott again. “Thousands of people, maybe. We have to.”

They stared at each other.

“We have to,” Niko said again.

Elliott looked devastated. He glanced away, but didn’t fight him on it anymore.

Death merely nodded, murmuring something into her earpiece, then listening to whatever voice was on the other side of it. “Going live in twenty seconds,” she said. “Let’s go.”

When they got close to time, she indicated the last remaining seconds with her fingers.

Three.

Two.

One.

The light on the hovering camera changed from red to green. Behind it, the hologram on the wall blinked to instead read ON AIR.

A quick glance at Elliott showed any of the pain and struggle in the other man’s expression had vanished, replaced now with a mask of perfect, stoic calm.

He was a far better actor than Niko was.

Niko tried to will his face to arrange itself into something more neutral, but he couldn’t stop the trembling of his body.

They were live now, their faces and voices hijacking almost every mainstream channel across the galaxy, overriding whatever programs had been previously running.

The two of them were now projected onto any TV hologram tuned to major and local networks.

Living rooms, bars, businesses. Offices and phone cable live feeds.

They were everywhere now.

Niko opened his mouth to speak, but nothing emerged. Whatever words he’d once had inside him were determined to stay there, buried deep.

He stared at the camera, completely lost now as the seconds silently crawled by. Another muffled gunshot sounded from somewhere outside. Niko glanced nervously at the door, but Elliott stared straight ahead at the camera, unflinching.

He picked up where Niko couldn’t, his cool outward persona present in his tone as he began to speak. His voice boomed, loud, crisp, and clear as a bell.

“People of Delevia. Of Yhanwe-ha. Of Haneen. Of all civilized worlds within this galaxy. Can you hear me?

“My name is Elliott James Kestrel. Beside me is Niko Estrella, and together, we are Starhawk.”

He’d actually used the name. In any other circumstances, it would have brought a smile to Niko’s face, but all he could do now was listen.

“I am responsible for the deaths of seventeen members of a vast but secretive network who call themselves Honeybliss.

You may know these people as trusted leaders.

As inspiring creators. As a force of good within this galaxy that you can trust. Unfortunately, that's only a hollow and carefully curated image that they want you to see.

The real truth is something far darker. As I speak, years of data I've compiled on the crimes of these individuals is being published across the internet.

It's not something for the faint of heart.

But bringing these crimes into the light is necessary.

“For years, I’ve tried to get this information out.

I tried to get anyone to listen to me. The Galactic Police.

The press. I was ignored, silenced, and even painted as delusional and unreliable, again and again.

The files I tried to share online were quickly wiped clean.

Now Honeybliss can hide no longer. Their names and faces will be known and evident in the videos they themselves recorded for entertainment and titillation.

“Haaltha-se, the Prime of Ghalaecua. Nurun-Jia, Senator of Delan-6. Nadeen Navarri, philanthropist and heiress. Horu Duu’mari, film director. Essthessvia, the Grand Sovereign of Yhanwe-ha…”