My head rang with pain and horror at what stood before me. My friends had fallen, and their stupor had consumed them. I could barely see—my eyes were growing dim. I fell onto my back, clutching myself. Before me was what I feared most.
The ringing in my ears slowly faded.
"I hope you like the gift. I didn't like yours very much," Fen said convulsively, touching his burned face with his burned hand.
I stared straight at him, and it seemed to me that blood was running from his cheek.
Maron.
Poor Maron lay curled up in the crate, barely breathing. He looked at us and moaned, as if telling us to run. But there was nowhere to run.
I looked at Durs and Reni. They were no less afraid than I was, but only Durs tried to keep his composure. But even he was afraid. Everything had fallen apart in a matter of minutes.
I tried to stand, but two soldiers of the Emperor's personal guard in their armor with spears suddenly appeared behind me. They grabbed me by the shoulders and forced me to my knees, making me lift my head to the Emperor and Fen in supplication. Like a slave.
I had to beg. But for what? For mercy? Or for compassion? We forget who we are from the very beginning of our journey, and when we come to ourselves again, we are too deeply immersed in the very filth we swore never to enter, beating our chests before everyone. So tell me, what should I have begged for?
Should I have begged him for my life? Or should I have begged him for the lives of my friends? The only thing I understand years later, sitting here on this damn rock, greeting every sunset and sunrise that gives me hope, is that in that moment, I should have begged him for death.
"I beg you, Emperor, have mercy!" I cried to him through tears of pain. Tears born of my friends, of my love for them.
I begged. I would have given my entire life for them, my whole self, just so they could live.
The Emperor looked at me lazily, then at Fen, and spoke words that broke me completely. Shattered my soul and hope into tiny pieces that dissolved in the sinister silence around us.
"I am not your Emperor."
His guards twisted us even harder, and I nearly screamed in pain. They pressed on our nerves and muscles, nearly paralyzing us. It was a burning pain, as if you were being set on fire piece by piece.
Maron was still squirming in his box, suffering from the confined space. There was barely enough air for him in there.
Fen began to approach us. He walked slowly, his boots tapping on the marble floor. He went to Reni and pulled him to his feet.
"Dear Renod, you can save your friends if you help me," Fen offered.
Reni looked frightened and confused, but he had to act. Now or never. We had to kill two birds with one stone. With one poison.
But would Reni have time to draw it before the guards killed him? I didn't want to sacrifice him. No one did.
"Tell me, what have you been plotting? What other incident have you devised?" he continued. "And maybe I will forgive you for what you did to me," he said quietly, grinning widely.
I never found out what Reni saw in his smile that made him turn away and grimace.
"We have nothing. We haven't plotted anything," Reni began to say quickly.
Fen was just playing with him. Even if Reni had told him about the poison and our plan, he wouldn't have let any of us go.
"You know, Reni, I trusted you like a son," Fen said heavily, and then suddenly pulled something from his pocket.
The sound of a uniform being cut, then skin. A knife.
He stabbed Reni in the stomach with the knife, and Reni recoiled slightly, looking him in the eyes. Fen was like ice.
"No!" Durs shouted, trying to break free from the guards, but they only pressed harder on him.
He struggled even harder, until one of them struck him in the neck with the butt of his spear.
He stopped struggling, and all his strength left as quickly as it had come. Durs fell unconscious.
Only I remained. I watched poor Reni sitting on his knees, clutching the white knife protruding from his stomach, scarlet blood streaming down his black uniform.
Fen walked past the unconscious Durs and came to me, then crouched down, looking me straight in the face.
"Don't you feel sorry for them, Kyle?" he asked me.
What a disgusting animal he was. Not a drop of conscience or compassion.
"You pathetic, vile creature, who should have been killed back on the Chaos!" I shouted in his face.
He just smiled.
"So why didn't you kill me?"
He stared at me for a few more minutes, then stood up and walked to the Emperor. Reaching him, he looked over all of us again and whispered something in His Majesty's ear, then stepped to the left of the throne, standing beside the legate.
The Emperor rose slightly from his seat and began to interrogate us. Truth be told, he interrogated only me.
"Where is the rebel headquarters?" he asked sharply, looking me straight in the face. Surely beneath his mask were malice and rage.
I was silent. Tears rolled down my cheeks.
"Where?" the Emperor roared, striking the arm of his throne with his hand. The ringing sound of metal and wood echoed through the enormous hall.
"I don't know," I answered him. The tears slowly faded. I must not be weak. Not now.
"You know, you son of a bitch. We will kill everyone like you and burn all your planets!" the Emperor shouted again.
It seemed to me that his mask would shatter under his rage and foolishness. Where there is power, there is fear of losing it.
"Not today…" Reni hissed, touching his uniform near a button.
That was where the poison was. If only he could snatch it and throw it toward the Emperor, it would all be over.
The war would stop. All the soldiers would return home to their families. Planets and moons would no longer suffer from endless bombings and orbital artillery. Cities would no longer have to hide their people in underground bunkers, hoping for protection and help. My family could stop worrying about me, and maybe I could even return to them.
The universe would rise again from horror and pain, filling everything with love and hope. Only one action separated us from that. One.
He reached for it, ripping off the button. A tiny vial the size of a nut fell into his hand. He tried to stand and do what he had to. Seeing this, Fen rushed toward him, nearly falling, to stop him.
"Don't you dare!" he shouted at him, but it was too late.
Fen ran toward him while the guards ran toward the Emperor, trying to evacuate him. In that moment, time slowed down. Everything stopped around us.
I watched as Fen drew his blade and flew at Reni to tear him to pieces and stop him from using the poison. Durs, to my surprise, had already come to and was reaching into his pocket. I just sat on my knees, looking at Maron's face—he had already resigned himself.
Moments later, the poison flew from Reni's hands straight toward the Emperor's guards. Fen had already raised his blade when a shot rang out from beside me, snapping me back to reality. Everything returned to its place.
I looked toward the shot and saw Durs aiming his pistol at Fen and firing. The round tore through space straight at its target. At the moment Fen swung, the round struck him in the chest and exited the other side.
He fell, unable to strike Reni. Reni tried to stand and come to us—he couldn't. Despite everything that had begun, we had to keep moving. And only one thing was clear in that moment: Fen was dead. Now for sure.
I saw his death with my own eyes. I saw him fall, his blade beside him, his malicious face smeared across the floor. All the betrayal and pain he had caused died with him. Forever.
The guards began to lead the Emperor away as the vial of poison flew into one of the guards and exploded, dispersing the poison. Two of them fell instantly. The others began to run and cough. Every second counted. The farther they could get the Emperor, the higher his chance of survival. We had to stop that.
Durs understood me immediately. He started shooting at them, but his rounds bounced off their armor. In that moment, sirens blared throughout the entire complex, and all windows and doors closed with steel shutters. We were trapped.
I ran to Maron's crate and tried to open it, beating on the glass and the top lid. Nothing worked. Soon Durs noticed my attempts, came over, and told me to step back. He fired a few times into the locks, and the crate fell apart, Maron—bound and exhausted from all his attempts to escape—tumbled out.
I knelt beside him and began untying him, loosening the knots on his hands and feet. After removing the gag, he thanked me and got to his feet.
"Glad to have you back in action," Durs told him.
"Shut up, you savage," he said, then ran to one of the guards Durs had managed to kill. Maron took a pistol and a knife.
"Help your friend and follow me," he commanded, looking around.
We immediately began following his orders. Grabbing Reni, who had already been through so much, we hoisted him onto our shoulders and moved after Maron.
Before running out of the hall and facing the hordes of soldiers—warriors who alone could kill hundreds of ordinary soldiers—I looked back to memorize the place. To see it one last time.
Once, someone dear to me said: "You can spend your whole life striving for something higher, and when you achieve it, you will turn around and see that you never lived at all—you only fought."
That is why I began to look back often. To remember everything that was. To remember how I lived.
Leaving the hall, we ran through another one just as enormous. From the side, two guards ran toward us, trying to stop us, but Maron's skill and marksmanship foiled their plans. They fell mid-stride. He hit one directly through the eyehole, tearing the front of his helmet apart—along with what was inside. War is cruel, but the people who take part in it are even worse.
Running into the corridors, we headed for the elevator—the same one the legate had taken us up in. I looked back at Reni to check on him. The young soldier and, above all, my close friend was feeling unwell—it was obvious. He had gone pale and kept closing his eyes. Durs saw this and began encouraging his younger brother.
"Just a little more, brother. Just a little," he said gently and softly, like a mother to her child. "You did it."
My heart was breaking from these words, but I couldn't help him. Removing the knife would be too dangerous—it would cause heavy bleeding and possible infection.
Reaching the elevator, we jumped inside and began descending. Silence and tension surrounded us. We breathed heavily, trying to gulp down every cubic meter of air.
"How did they catch you?" I asked Maron, who was gripping his pistol so tightly it seemed it might break under the pressure.
"Traitors among the rebels. The damn whores sold me out," he snorted angrily.
I didn't answer. When the elevator arrived, we were waiting. I don't know why we didn't think of it then. Maybe adrenaline and fear had taken over us and our minds.
The moment the elevator opened, two officers in snow-white armor stood before us—like snow on a high mountain in ancient human Japan, now the Interplanetary Yakuza Union. Brave warriors, just like their ancestors.
Behind them, dozens of soldiers hidden behind cover or simply standing aimed rifles and machine guns at us, ready to open fire.
"Drop your weapons!" commanded the armored officer, his hands clasped behind his back.
Maron understood the situation and dropped his weapon. One way or another, death awaited us, but which one depended on our actions. We decided to surrender. Who knows, maybe our diplomats would help us.
He slowly lowered his pistol to the floor of the elevator, and we raised our hands. Durs also began to discard his weapon. Only then did they allow us to step forward out of the elevator.
"Blades!" he commanded again.
Maron's blade fell to the floor. The sound of metal echoed through the corridor, creating silence.
Soon, satisfied that we were unarmed, soldiers approached us and struck us in the stomachs with their rifle butts. Lightning pain shot through someone. They spared Renod, seeing the knife already in his belly.
But what I remember most is that they led Maron aside.
"Where are you taking him?" I asked, trying to stand.
They led him to the wall so we could better see what they would do to him. They wanted us to see it—to make us afraid. They wanted us to know who the true power and authority was here. Who had the will.
They made him kneel with his back to the wall. I looked into his eyes and saw fury and rage. He knew what was coming, but even though all his hatred for them was inside him, he showed them a smile on his face. He showed them all the joy for the work he had done.
My dear mentor, Maron Eln. I hope you have found peace in the great hall of warriors. That you are somewhere on Earth with your family and loved ones. And I hope you know that everything you did was not in vain. Because of you, we ended this war.
A shot rang out.
The poor, tired captain slumped. He sagged heavily to the side, trying to fight the end that was coming for him. He tried to delay it as long as possible, so we could see that he was not dead but alive, and that despite everything, he kept fighting. He wanted us to see it. And we did.
I saw a strong, invincible man who is not afraid of death. Who strikes and destroys his enemies like a shadow. A man who serves the people. A man who forgot how to die and how to fear.
I said nothing in that moment. I did not make a single sound. All that was inside me then was emptiness. Loss.
"Put these in a shuttle under guard in the hold," a clear, authoritative voice commanded the soldiers standing near us. "The Emperor has ordered them sent to hard labor."
We were roughly lifted and led down the corridor where Maron lay—already dead. I could not look at him or into his eyes. I simply knew that even though he was gone, he remained in each of us. A piece of his wisdom and wildness will always be with us, especially with me. I have not described much of our relationship here, but rest assured, there is much I have not told about him.
We were to be sent to three different planets—into slavery. Where each of us would be sent, I did not know for a long time, but a harsh trial awaited us. They wanted to separate us and kill us with backbreaking labor in some mines and factories.
But even knowing this, I knew that one day we would meet again.
All together.