Page 7

CHAPTER 7

S he waited.

Time became a haze, a stretch of nothingness blurred by silence and sterile light. The floating container remained still, suspended in the center of a cold, metallic chamber. The walls were smooth, without seams or visible exits. The lighting was dim and bluish, like the soft glow of a fridge left open in the dark. No sound. Not even the faint hum of machinery. Just oppressive quiet.

Her throat tightened, and the tears came. Not loud sobs. Just a slow, silent welling. She blinked furiously, refusing to let them fall. She wouldn’t give in. Not again. Not after what happened on the trading station. Not after those slimy hands had pawed at her like she was nothing.

But it wasn’t just the fear. It was the humiliation. The fury. The feeling of being erased, turned from a person into property. She was still wearing the skimpy silken outfit they'd shoved her into. Her skin crawled with the memory.

She clenched her fists and stared at the ceiling.

The silence was the worst part.

No one had come. No guards. No servants. Not even him.

The one who bought her. The one in black armor, with weapons and wings and a presence that made the other aliens quake.

He hadn’t said a word. Not even a glance once they were aboard. Just left her like a forgotten object in this sterile chamber.

She thought of calling out. Screaming. Slamming her fists against the walls of the container. She even considered harming herself, just to force some kind of response. But then she imagined his reaction.

She didn’t know what he was. What he was capable of. She only knew the way the air seemed to freeze when he moved. The way others had looked at him… and then looked away.

Doing anything reckless was a gamble she couldn’t afford.

So she waited.

And as she waited, her thoughts turned homeward.

Cronulla. The soft roar of waves rolling onto the beach. Her friends, her family. Her job at the marina café. Her mum’s nagging text messages. Her dad’s laugh. She imagined them waking up and realising she was gone. No note. No explanation. Just... vanished. Would they think she drowned? Got lost? Run away?

Would they ever stop looking?

The ache that thought brought was almost worse than the fear. Almost.

Because in the absence of everything else, there was still one thing she clung to like a rope in the dark.

Hope.

Hope that she might return. Hope that this wasn’t the end of her story, just a detour into something terrible that she could someday escape.

She inhaled slowly, controlled, reminding herself she was still alive. That she still had choices, even if they were few.

Then, the air shifted.

A sound: soft, like air being disturbed by movement.

She sat up straighter.

A figure stepped through the wall.

Not through a door. Through the wall—like it was nothing. Like it had been waiting all along.

It was him.

The being in black.

The one who had bought her.

He moved without sound, his armored frame absorbing light like a void given shape. His presence filled the chamber instantly, a shadow stretching across her thoughts, her breath. He didn’t speak. Didn’t look at her. Just stood there, like a storm waiting to break.

Sylvia’s pulse thundered in her ears.

She wasn’t ready.

But he was here.