The bars buzzed with power.
Jackob sat cross-legged on the cold metal floor, staring at nothing. His mind was racing.
waiting for the devil
Footsteps came again.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
Liz.
She appeared as before — calm, composed, terrifying in her stillness.
Jackob didn't stand. He just raised his eyes to meet hers.
"You're not a bug," she said.
"Took you that long?" he muttered.
"You lied."
"I do that sometimes."
She didn't smile. Not this time.
"You're not one of the Reds. You don't talk like them. Or think like them."
Jackob shrugged. "I'm a special case."
She folded her arms and crouched in front of the cell.
"Where are you from? What species?"
He didn't answer.
Liz tilted her head. "You're not a synthetic. You're not mutated. You're not grown. You're... something else."
Jackob smirked. "Flattered."
She stared at him for a moment, then listed absently, "Ghost… Angel… Dragon… Human…"
Jackob's smile froze.
His face changed.
Liz noticed.
She stared at him. Not blinking. Not breathing.
"Human?" she repeated.
Jackob held her gaze. "Yes."
Her body tensed. Her face paled slightly. Her next words were barely audible:
"Impossible."
He stood and stepped closer to the bars. "Not really."
"There are no humans left," she said, almost trembling.
"Then I'm a myth."
Liz's lips parted, but no sound came out. She stared at him like he was a ghost from her nightmares.
"We were told... your kind vanished."
Jackob tilted his head. "We don't vanish. We adapt."
She shook her head slowly. "You're dangerous."
Jackob smirked. "That's what makes us fun."
Silence stretched long between them. Then Liz asked softly:
"What's your name?"
He raised an eyebrow. "What, so we're on first-name basis now?"
"Yes. I want to know what to call the myth in my cell."
He considered.
"Jackob."
She nodded. "Liz."
They stared at each other.
A ghost.
And a goddess.
And for the first time… they weren't enemies.
Not yet.
Where are you from, really?" Liz asked.
Jackob sat on the cold cell floor, arms crossed, expression unreadable. Then—grin.
"Fine, fine. You want the truth?"
She said nothing, only watched.
"I'm from a noble family," Jackob said casually. "Very old bloodline. My father is a king—one of the major houses from the eastern galactic belt. Rich. Powerful. We practically own a star system."
Liz blinked once. Then twice.
"You're lying."
Jackob raised an eyebrow. "That obvious?"
"You smell poor."
He blinked.
"You don't carry noble scent," she continued. "You don't have the air, the posture, or the blood. And if your father really was a galactic king, I'd have heard of you. All of us would. Especially since your kind doesn't live long."
Jackob opened his mouth.
"And you wouldn't be crawling around my ship disguised as a bug."
He sighed.
"Okay, you got me. My dad's not a king."
Liz stared. "What are you, then?"
Jackob shrugged. "A survivor."
She walked closer to the cell, folding her arms. Her eyes gleamed with memory.
"You know," she said slowly, "I didn't believe the stories. Not at first."
"What stories?"
"Of your people."
Jackob leaned forward.
"Humans," she said. "They appeared from nowhere… and started a storm in the universe. Not with numbers, but with talent. With weapons. With defiance."
Jackob blinked. "Go on."
"They were one of the only races in the universe that rebelled against the gods."
Jackob blinked again. "Gods?"
"They ruled many worlds—or think they do. But humans… humans didn't kneel. They fought back. And worse—"
She paused.
"They killed one."
Jackob's jaw dropped.
"A god?"
"One of the strongest. In open battle. The legends say it shook the heavens. That day, they broke the god's heaven itself and tore a hole in it. My ancestor described the sound as the end of the world."
Jackob laughed nervously. "That sounds… like something we'd do."
"They became enemies to all divine races. Some feared them. Others respected them. Many envied their weapons."
She stepped away, speaking more to herself now.
"Your people had three pillars of power—Warriors, Engineers, and Arcanes. Each ranked across nine tiers. And with every tier they passed, they grew. Not slightly — but many times stronger than before."
Jackob's eyes widened. "They all did?"
"Yes. All of them. Physical, mental, magical. The higher the tier, the more terrifying they became. Most species plateau. They have limits. But humans? They just kept going."
She turned slightly, voice softer now.
"Warriors were physical monsters. With each tier, their strength, speed, and resilience multiplied. It's said one of our ancestors fought a human warrior in hand-to-hand combat and lost. And that human wasn't even tier nine."
Jackob felt his heart race.
"The idea of a tier nine warrior terrified the universe. It still does."
Liz paced slowly.
"Then the Engineers—those were the creators. Builders of extinction-class weapons. Smartest beings alive. One weapon could erase a species… without the engineer even being present. Their machines thought, planned, adapted."
Jackob swallowed.
"And the Arcanes?"
"The rarest. The most terrifying. They bent elements. Created storms. Flew through space unaided. Changed the weather of planets. Some say they bent time itself. But the worst… they could bring back the dead."
Jackob blinked.
"Arcanists could raise entire legions of undead. But they didn't stop there. They could also control the living. Bend minds. Twist loyalty. If an Arcanist walked into your camp, your allies could become your enemies in seconds. You wouldn't even see it coming."
Jackob was speechless. Excitement bloomed in his chest like fire. Pride.
"So… what happened to them?"
Liz's voice dropped.
"They died. All of them."
Jackob stared.
"By who?"
She hesitated.
"The gods," she said quietly. "A million years ago."
Jackob felt his legs weaken.
"A… million?"
She nodded. "You're an echo, Jackob. An ember. Something the stars forgot."
He leaned back against the wall, stunned.
"But if we were that strong… some of us should've survived. Scattered. Hidden. Something."
Liz looked at him, long and quiet.
"Maybe you did."
Jackob shook his head. "Then why are we slaves? Why are we digging rocks underground for creatures who piss on us?"
Silence.
"I don't know," Liz admitted. "But I know this — if even one of you survived... the universe has reason to be afraid."
He chuckled darkly. "I'm just a starving idiot with a death wish."
She smiled faintly. "Maybe. Or maybe you're the worst thing to crawl out of history."
Jackob looked up. "Why do gods hate us so much?"
She corrected him gently:
"They don't hate us. They hate you."
He rolled his eyes. "Right. Because you're their favorite, huh?"
She smiled wider. "Obviously."
And for the first time… they both laughed.