Chapter 52
Fifty-two
“Do you want me to go with you?” Leo kisses my collarbone as I slide my pants back on.
A quick detour back to his apartment after training turned into an hour-long rendezvous that now has me scrambling.
His hands trail down my body, toying with my waistband, getting dangerously close to where my body still wants him.
“I’m going to be late if you keep that up.” I turn and kiss him deeply. “And no, but thank you. This is something I need to do myself.” That, and I don’t want to involve him any more than he already has been, now that I’ve seen a snippet of what Pluto’s capable of.
Astralis is quiet tonight, a more subdued presence.
Fewer people roam the streets; only the occasional lovers stroll hand in hand or someone leaving work, tired and dragging.
While the calmness of the city is welcome, I prefer it when it has a heartbeat—when Astralis feels alive.
I watch Brinn through the bakery window, sweeping up and cleaning counters.
The door jingles as I enter, the soothing scent of lavender hitting my senses.
“Oh, hi! I’m so glad you’re here.” She uses a dustpan to collect her sweepings and stores the cleaning materials in a closet. “Follow me. We’re going to meet downstairs.” She wipes her hand on her apron and opens a door with brightly lit stairs descending into a corridor.
“Of course, I’d love to share more with anyone willing to hear me out, even if it’s only a few people.”
“Well, hopefully you don’t mind talking to more than a few people…” We reach the bottom and round a tight corner. I halt abruptly, overwhelmed with the sight in front of me.
The corridor expands extensively, larger than I had assumed.
Intended for storage, Celestials and Astrals linger between storage cabinets and racks of food.
Some sit at stray tables or lean against the wall.
There have to be at least fifty people here.
“Brinn,” I look around, taking them all in, “this is incredible.” The room grows quieter as more and more people recognize my arrival.
“Wow, this is a lot of attention on one person. Not my thing—here she is, everybody!” Brinn gestures to me before sliding herself against the staircase.
“Oh. Okay. Hi everyone. I’m Zellie. I really can’t believe how many of you are here right now!” I laugh in disbelief.
“I was in the bakery the day you came in. The Kosmos has been deceiving us for too long. There is no reason we should live better than you.” A male sitting nearby discloses his feelings; his large form overtaking in the small chair.
“Or how about how they push the use of humans in the Games and act like you’re disposable?” Someone else calls out—an older female, smudges of colorful paint blotched on her skin and clothes.
“It feels like they’re gatekeeping power. Do you know how much easier our lives would be if we had access to the other elements?” A female with a toddler on her hip adds.
“Right? Why can’t we? We only have the powers that they decide to ‘bestow’ upon us at birth. Where are the checks and balances? Why do they get to decide who we are?” Another woman nearby replies.
“I’ve heard instances where they’ve whisked people off for experimentation.” Hushed whispers break out at the accusation. My head whips to a man leaning against the wall, his arms crossed. Is that what happened to Orion’s sister?
“How about the taxes they impose on us? They’re taking all our silver!” Angry voices ring out around me as individuals bring the Order’s wrongdoings into the light.
I’m not alone. We are not alone. People recognize what is happening. Emotion clogs my throat, and I look to Brinn, not sure where to start.
“Tell us everything,” she prompts me.
So I do. I tell them how dull our planet is in comparison, how robotic our lives are.
I describe how devoid of color, art, fragrance, music, flora, and experiences it is; how we are alive but not living.
That cameras are lurking, capturing our every move, and granting access to areas throughout the unit.
I recount our lack of freedom or inability to choose our station—how we are told each day where, when, and what we are expected to be.
Then, I explain my experience of being forced into the Games.
The threatening behavior to stay in line, the guilt, and the pressure to save the humans.
I share my stories of training and what has happened within the games, how we are forced to act no better than animals, and how they have turned us into monsters. I add that our very lives are at stake in each competition, and some of those lives have been lost.
The crowd listens on quietly as I regale my tale. As I finish, I see tears streaming down cheeks, hands clutching others, and disgust written on features. These are the empaths. These are the people who will make a difference. “We are with you!” A female farther back shouts out.
“Tell us what you need!”
“What can we do?”
I am showered in affirmations as a dangerous feeling takes root in my chest—a dream.
We are going to change the galaxies. “We will rise and illuminate the shadows. We will overcome the evil that has spread, poisoning our worlds and marginalizing us all. They have categorized us, creating an ‘us versus them’ mentality. They did not expect ‘us’ to unite. Today, we will!!”
“Today, we will!”
“Today, we will!”
Goosebumps prick my skin as the crowd chants and cheers. The moons have turned, and so have we.