Chapter 21 - Samantha #2
“Shall I remind you? It wasn’t you who defeated me.
It was the Confederation’s squadrons who razed Vagantu.
And it wasn’t your soldiers, but the jaws of a Krakelodon that nearly killed me.
If I’m here now, it’s not because you bested me.
So don’t strut on that throne like you conquered it.
You just picked up the scraps left behind by others.
And now you parade me around—chained, wounded, surrounded by five of your goons. There’s nothing glorious about that.”
Danuk narrows his eyes, then murmurs, almost to himself,
“Truths…”
I’m paralyzed.
All those times I tried to learn more about him… all those questions that went unanswered.
I thought he carried wounds too deep to share.
But no. He lied to me. He hid who he truly was.
“You must’ve laughed at me,” I whisper, my throat tight.
“Sam, shut up. This is really not the time,” he snaps, not even glancing in my direction.
Then he turns back to Danuk, eyes like steel.
“The honor of the Srebats is not an empty word. I know you won’t hand that throne back to me.
And I’m not asking for it. A throne isn’t given—it’s earned.
So I challenge you. In the arena. But not now.
Not like this. That fight would be worthless if I’m still weakened.
I propose we settle this when I’ve recovered. ”
Danuk studies him for a long moment, silent.
Something flickers in his eyes.
Respect? Or maybe challenge.
“I accept,” he finally says. “You have eight days. Eight days to heal and prepare. Then we’ll face each other. For control of the Red Arena. It will be a fight to the death, as tradition demands. And the Eastern Quadrant will witness a spectacle they won’t forget.”
“It won’t be a spectacle,” Noviosk replies, his voice heavy. “It’ll be a warning. And maybe… revenge.”
The room empties slowly.
Danuk walks away, satisfied, flanked by his guards.
Felone disappears behind him, that smug smile still clinging to his lips.
We’re left alone—in a holding cell where the guards dumped us.
The silence between us is heavy.
I stare at him.
He still won’t meet my eyes.
“You could’ve told me,” I whisper. “Just once. Told me who you really were.”
He doesn’t answer. He sits down slowly on the bench, his shoulders heavy, his eyes lost in the void.
“You let me believe you were like me. A survivor. A fugitive. A fellow prisoner who made it out of Vagantu. But you were its ruler. You lied to me, Nov.”
“I didn’t lie to you, Sam… You wanted to believe that version of me. And I let you.”
His voice is low.
“You can’t understand what it means—to be the former master of Vagantu. Wounded. Broken. Humiliated.”
“And me? I didn’t deserve to know the truth?! You let me get attached to an illusion. To a man who didn’t exist!”
He stands, limps toward me, but I step back, my heart pounding, throat tight.
“I lost everything, Sam. My empire. My world. My name. I didn’t want to talk about it. Especially not with you.”
“Why not with me?”
“You don’t see things for what they are!" he snaps. "From your cozy little corner of the galaxy, you think everyone’s kind. They’re not. And I’m not!”
I stare at him, tears blurring my vision.
I don’t recognize this man. I don’t want to.
“Then tell me one thing. My brother… Logan. He disappeared on Vagantu. Do you know what happened to him? Would you have at least told me that?”
Silence. Long. Crushing.
Then Nov closes his eyes, as if bracing himself against what he’s about to say.
“Logan… yeah. I remember him. I crossed paths with him. Briefly.”
“He’s alive?!” I ask, hope bursting out before I can stop it.
He opens his eyes. And I see the answer in them before he says the words.
“I’m sorry, Sam. He’s dead. The man who captured you suspected something about your brother. When Logan threatened to expose Vagantu’s coordinates to the Confederation, they executed him. In front of me.”
I stagger. The floor slips from under me. My heart shatters.
“You knew…” I whisper, my voice shaking. “All this time… you knew he was dead. And you said nothing.”
“I was trying to protect you, Sam. What you didn’t know couldn’t hurt you.”
“Protect me?! You let me hope! You listened to me talk about him, wait for news! You stole my grief from me!”
He lowers his head, unable to meet my gaze.
“I’m sorry…”
“No. You’re not. You’re just tired. Tired of lying. Tired of pretending to be a good man… when you’re anything but.”
He lifts his head. His eyes dark. His voice sharper.
“I never claimed to be a good man, Sam. Never. You’re the one clinging to meaning.
To goodness. In a world where there’s only one truth: survival.
You want monsters or heroes? Forget it. Everyone’s got shadows in them.
Your brother included. Some are just better at hiding it.
But Sam, in this world, only two things matter: strength… or weakness.”
“Strength?" I snap. "You mean the strength to kill? Or the strength to stand up to injustice, even if it costs your life? My brother was that kind of strong. He never hurt you, Nov! He was just taking me back to his base after my family died—”
“He was a threat to our organization. And in situations like that, there’s no room for feelings. There are those who act… and those who lose.”
“Logan was innocent!” I shout, my voice trembling but steady. “You know he was!”
“Innocence protects no one, Sam. Not in a galaxy where trafficking calls the shots. You think you can stay out of it, but sooner or later, everyone gets dragged in… And I didn’t kill him!”
“Oh, but that suits you just fine, doesn’t it? Go on—say it! Say that if that man hadn’t shot him in front of you, you would’ve done it yourself!”
He says nothing.
Not a word.
Not even a breath.
His silence cuts deeper than any blade.
I stare at him, heart in pieces, fists shaking. Then I look away. I can’t look at him anymore. I won’t.
My legs start to give, but I refuse to fall.
I grit my teeth. The tears fall anyway—hot, burning, unstoppable.
“My brother is dead… and you knew.”
My voice cracks.
A sob escapes. And with it, everything I’ve been holding in. The rage. The grief. The hope.
I let go.
I collapse to my knees, alone in this cold cell, while he just stands there—motionless, unable to fix what he’s broken.