The alien pulse returned, sharper this time, forcing the humans to kneel. Ray felt the chains flare against his skin, his energy responding instinctively, pushing back. The alien halted, sensing the resistance, intrigued.
"Interesting," a melodic, resonant voice whispered in his mind. Who are you? Not hostile—curious. Ray shivered. There was a familiarity to it he couldn't place.
He tested the spark within, letting it surge, and a jolt of energy rattled the chains of a nearby captive. Gasps swept the chamber. Liora's eyes widened in awe—but she didn't move away. Instead, she nodded at him, silent acknowledgment of defiance.
That night, when the alien overlords withdrew to their upper decks, Ray whispered to Liora, "I don't know what I am…or where I came from. But I know we can't stay like this. Not if we want to survive."
Her hand brushed his. "Then we fight," she said, voice steady, determination burning in her gaze. "And maybe…we can take back more than our lives."
For the first time, Ray felt purpose beyond survival. Sparks of rebellion, fragments of a forgotten legacy, and a forbidden hope ignited inside him. Somewhere out there, the truth of his heritage awaited, and when it came, he would rise—not as a captive, but as the Starborn heir he was born to be.