Epilogue 1
EPILOGUE 1
AEFRE
I stand alone on the observation deck, my breath fogging against the reinforced glass. The once-raucous arena is silent, its lights dimmed, the seats long since emptied. Only the echoes of the audience’s cheers remain, a distant memory of the spectacle that ended in my ultimate humiliation.
The labyrinth is still partially erected on the arena floor below, half-collapsed walls and flickering holograms casting ghostly shapes in the darkness. It was supposed to be a testament to my finest work. Ash and Ember were to be my masterpieces, living proof that, with enough guidance, any human could be molded into perfection.
Instead, they are gone. Taken by that opportunistic half-breed, Gael the Returner. The memory of his sudden appearance, the sabotage he orchestrated right under my nose—it coils in my chest like a living snake. The feed from the final phase replays in my mind, the moment I lost them captured in looping clarity. I should have seen it. I should have known.
I close my eyes, remembering the instant I realized they’d chosen escape over victory. The corridors erupted in alarms, and Kaelin and I tried to give chase, but it was too late. They’d vanished into the maintenance shafts, leaving behind nothing but scorched metal and the furious roars of the crowd.
My jaw tightens. I imagine how, even now, Ash’s collar is probably lying in some trash heap, severed and discarded. Ember, the one I had counted on, depended on, turning his back on me in that final moment.
I gave them everything, training, discipline, sex, food, comfort, and a chance at glory. In return, they have left me with nothing but questions. When did Ember first decide to abandon me? Was it the day Fifi died? Or was it when he realized he loved Ash?
I run my hand over the control ring —its circuitry inactive now, severed from any collar. The ring feels heavier than ever, a relic of a bond that has been irrevocably broken.
A faint hiss signals Kaelin’s entrance behind me. He’s silent, his rage simmering just beneath the surface. We have no words for each other. There is only the quiet accusation in his eyes, a question that neither of us dares to voice aloud, Where do we go from here?
“I’ve spoken to Ira. He’s demanding an explanation.”
“I will tell him the truth,” I say, surprising myself with how steady I sound. “We were betrayed. The system was compromised by Gael the Returner. Ash and Ember… seized an opportunity to flee.”
“And you just let them?”
I bristle but hold my composure. “They didn’t ask my permission, Kaelin.” The retort is sharper than I intended. Kaelin did warn me after all. “Focus on solutions, not blame.”
He nods and then with a curt bow, he leaves me to my solitude.
Once he’s gone, I tap on the console beside me. A new display crackles to life, showing star charts and flight paths. In the center glows a red dot indicating the boundary near the border—the place where Gael’s ship vanished from Imperial tracking.
I zoom in. I analyze the data, searching for any sign of where they might have gone. Do I chase them beyond the border, risking condemnation for crossing into neutral territories? Or do I remain here, rebuilding my reputation, forging new pets into champions?
For the first time in my life, I’m uncertain. The Empire sees humans as commodities, but Ash and Ember, they challenged my long-held view. Part of me wants them back, if only to prove that I was right all along, that my methods do work, and that humans can’t survive in the galaxy on their own because they aren’t sentient, not fully. But another part of me wonders if, in losing them, I’ve liberated myself from a bond I did not fully comprehend until it was too late. And that Ember really is one of the one-in-a-million humans who are sentient and deserve to be free. And maybe Ash too?
I stare at the star chart until my eyes burn. Perhaps I will track them. Perhaps not. But I suspect we are far from finished with one another. A bond like ours can’t be undone by a single act of rebellion, no matter how triumphant.
My hand clenches around the control ring. My perfect pair—gone.
Closing my eyes, I draw a slow, deliberate breath, steeling myself for the inevitable next move. Tomorrow, I must face Ira. Tomorrow, I will account for what happened here. But tonight, I stand in the hush of the deserted arena, letting the reality sink in. A reality I will only ever tell myself. I failed Ash and Ember.