Days bled into nights, and the torment from fellow captives only grew. Ray's isolation intensified as more slaves targeted him, fueled by fear, jealousy, or perhaps instinctual recognition that he was different. Liora remained a lone comfort, whispering encouragement in the shadows, but even her presence could not shield him from the cruelty of the others.
Then, during the early hours, the ship shuddered violently. Alarms blared, red light flooding the corridors. Aliens moved with precision, rounding up captives for an unknown purpose. Ray's chains hummed at an accelerated rhythm, reacting to the sudden surge of energy around him.
"You," a commanding pulse struck his mind, stand aside.
Before he could react, strong alien hands seized him, separating him from Liora. She struggled, calling his name, but the translucent guards ignored her. Ray tried to resist, sparks flickering violently along his arms, but the aliens' technology was stronger than he yet knew.
As he was dragged through the labyrinthine corridors of the ship, his chest tightened with dread and anger. Liora's voice echoed in his mind, a tether he could not sever. They were tearing him from the one person who had given him hope, and something deep within Ray stirred.
He didn't know where they were taking him, or what awaited, but he did know one thing: he would find a way back. No matter the cruelty, no matter the power of the overlords, the spark that had awakened in him could not—and would not—be extinguished.