I decided to keep it simple. “Who are you people?”
“Unalarans,” he said simply. His tone was surprisingly conversational. “More specifically, Unalaran hunters. We collect valuable specimens from worlds too weak or too isolated to join the Union. Sometimes both, which is the case with your world. Earth is so weak in magic; the last time your portal stone absorbed enough charge for a crossing was back when I first took my oaths as a Vyrn.”
He took on a wistful look. “That was fifty-seven Union years ago. Good times.”
So much information in such a short statement. My voice wavered as I asked my next question. A stupid question, no doubt, but one I needed a solid answer to, nonetheless. “I’m on another world, aren’t I?”
“You’re on Unalar. Our home planet.”
The events of the past hour—or however long it had been—were so far out of my wheelhouse that I wasn’t sure how any sane person could cope with all this. But what choice did I have? I was alone, completely outmatched, and somehow, I was on an alien planet.
“A lot to process?” he asked, voice calm, almost sympathetic.
I glared at him, my fists clenching reflexively. “Why are you being friendly after what your people did to mine? You slaughtered so many.”
He shrugged apologetically. “Animosity achieves nothing. And as for your people... Try not to take it personally. This is business, and like all businesses, we have overheads and margins. We can’t just take everyone we meet. Buyers need fighters first and foremost, so if your people died in our attack, it means they failed the most basic test of value.”
His callous words sent a wave of rage through me. Useless rage, for what could I do with it but seethe? “Is that why you killed the scientists outright?”
“Scientists?” He tilted his head. “I don’t know this word. If they died, it’s because they were of no use to us.” He motioned toward another corridor, his tone light. “Lucky for you, you survived. If the Archons accept you, and you prove your worth, you could live a very good life in the Union.”
“A slave’s life is not a good life,” I snapped, though the words felt hollow. Deep down, part of me was just glad to be alive. Alive, there was a chance.
“We’re here,” he said, stopping in front of a door unlike any I’d seen so far.
The others we’d passed had been wooden, with black metal work. This one was made of a smooth marble-like material with a myriad of colors in its grain. It slid open silently as we approached, revealing the thin alien who had healed me.
“Good, you’re here,” he said, standing up straight, looking exhausted. “All the channels are flooded with power. The crystal is fully charged and ready to go.”
With deft movements, he finished whatever he was doing before closing the compartment with brief glow of hands. The closed cover merged seamlessly with the smooth ebony walls of the room.
“All yours, Earther. I hope you’re worth the cost. Not many earn an ascension so soon after capture.”
“What does that mean?” I demanded, my voice cracking slightly. “What is ascension?”
“What it sounds like,” my escort said as he pushed me into the chamber. “We’re making you better.”
The thin one snorted. “Not better. Just unlocking your pathways. Your body and mind can finally reach their full potential. If you live long enough.”
Before I could respond, the door slid shut with a soft whoosh. The room was plunged briefly into darkness before a pulsing red glow was emitted from the walls.
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For a brief moment, it reminded me of the time I had used a sunbed—a misguided attempt a couple of years ago to tan my pale skin before a holiday. I was eighteen at the time, burned bright red like a cooked lobster. It wasn’t my finest moment with the pain taking an hour to surface and a week to leave.
In this room, the burning started immediately, and there the similarity ended. The pain escalated into the sensation of a million tiny needles driving into every bare millimeter of my flesh.
I screamed and writhed. My new favorite hobby, it seemed. When the sensation subsided, the torture still wasn’t over with. It deepened until I could feel it in my bones, a sensation like being ripped apart from the inside out. I was certain I was going to die, and once again welcomed the darkness.
When I awoke, there was little doubt I’d passed out again. Starfished on the floor, I was now bathed in a soothing green light. My body hummed with the familiar healing energy that the skinny Unalaran had used on me, and as the sharp edges of my pain receded, the light faded.
By the time it disappeared entirely, the door slid open again. My escort stood watching me with an intense curiosity.
“Welcome, Adam Henshaw,” he said, his voice tinged with amusement. “Your level is comfortably above average for fresh game. Congratulations.”
I froze. “How do you know my name?”
A faint smile lifted his face. “The ascension reveals your basic identification. Your name and level are displayed clearly. You are Level 12, which is high for a newly ascended captive. What I’m more interested in is your individual stat levels; I’d appreciate it if you let me know. The Archon representative is here, and he is eager to meet you.”
“Here?” I replied feeling a surge of panic. “The person you want to sell me to is here already. That was fast.”
“Not really. Ascension takes a two full Union days. Approximately forty-two of your Earth hours to carry out.”
My jaw dropped. “No, that’s not possible. I’ve been in here a day and a half?”
He offered a sympathetic smile. “We are on a tight time scale here. You tell me your stats, and I’ll explain a little more about the ascension capsule as we walk.”
Despite my revulsion at the situation, a flicker of curiosity gnawed at me. Levels and stats? Who wouldn’t want to know how they measured up. “How do I go about checking those numbers?”
He gave a faint smile. “Let’s start with something simple. Focus on me first. My essence, if you like.”
I frowned, unsure as to what he meant. “Your… essence?”
“Yes! Focus on me as a whole, beyond what you see with your eyes.”
It sounded ridiculous, like the sort of bullshit a motivational speaker would spout. Still, I had no better ideas, so I tried. At first, I stared at him blankly, my mind a jumble of frustration and uncertainty. Then I glared, letting my anger build as I thought about what he represented.
My hatred flared, but his calm demeanor threw me off balance. He seemed so at ease, so friendly. This was just a routine day in his monstrous line of work. And while I could hate what they’d done to me and my fellow humans, I had to at least acknowledge that humans had been trafficking each other since time fucking began. The moment I acknowledged that our races probably weren’t so different, something clicked.
A rush of clarity flooded my mind, and words appeared, not in my vision but somewhere deeper, as if my thoughts had organized themselves into clean, readable lines:
Name: Pero Ala
Title: Vyrnsoul of the First House of Hunters
Level: 38
Class: Warrior/Tradesman
I blinked in astonishment, my heart pounding. I had done it. Without showing any outward sign of my discovery, I forced myself to remain neutral and turn my new focus inward.
The sensation was strange—like peeling back layers of myself, navigating the subtle changes left behind by the red energy of ascension. It didn’t take long for the information to surface. Again, it didn’t manifest in front of my eyes but seemed to exist inside my mind, crisp and clear, as if it had always been there:
Name: Adam Henshaw
Title: —
Level: 12
Class: —
Stats:
- Toughness: 12
- Mental Acuity: 12
- Harmony: 14
- Total: 38
Progress in Class:
- Warrior, Level 0: 0/10
- Tradesman, Level 0: 0/10
- Mage, Level 0: 0/10
I soaked in the numbers, absorbing them. Toughness and Mental Acuity seemed straightforward, but Harmony… that was a curveball. Why was it my highest stat? What did it mean?
“You have found them?” The Vyrnsoul’s voice cut into my thoughts, sharp and expectant.
I hesitated. Revealing my stats felt deeply personal, as if laying bare my weaknesses and strengths to an enemy who could exploit them. My gut screamed at me to keep them to myself, but my gaze flickered to his level—38. The difference was staggering.
Swallowing my pride, I nodded. “Yes. I’ve found them.”
Satisfaction flickered in his eyes. “A promising start! You’re handling this better than most. Now tell me.”
I clenched my jaw, saying nothing for a moment, the shame of my powerlessness bubbling beneath the surface. My time would come, I told myself, gripping tightly to the thought. One day, I’d turn the tables. Just not today.
Today I would endure. Today I would survive. Today I would tell him all of my stats like an impotent coward.