Elsewhere, on a private, unknown starship hurtling through the void towards Planet Xylos, Ethan Goelet slammed his fists against the table.

The surveillance footage played on the screen before him. It was transmitted live via quantum relay now that he was finally within range of the planet’s communication network.

The feed was still a little grainy, piggybacking on the employee dormitory’s security systems.

But it was clear enough to show exactly what he didn’t want to see.

Grayson was kissing Neville.

In the corridor outside Room 4410.

Ethan’s teeth ground together so hard his jaw ached.

The timestamp showed it had happened just a few minutes ago. Which meant that Grayson had been inside Neville’s apartment for hours before that.

Hours of... what?

His imagination ran wild, painting scenarios that made Ethan’s blood boil.

When the door had finally opened, both men had looked a little disheveled in his opinion.

Neville’s collar was wrinkled, his lips visibly swollen even through the low-quality feed.

Grayson’s hair had been mussed, and his usual cold, calm exterior showed a little playfulness.

It was practically an announcement to anyone who saw them.

They did something.

They must’ve done something

The thought repeated in Ethan’s mind like a poisonous mantra.

Grayson had touched him. That bastard touched what’s mine—

Ethan felt like he couldn’t breathe.

He tried to force himself to breathe.

But it was hard.

His fingers unclenched from their white-knuckled grip on the table’s edge.

Neville might not be his right now.

But he wasn’t with anyone before either.

Now, he might not be his anytime soon because a bastard named Grayson continued to stand in our way.

But that didn’t mean Ethan had to accept that Grayson would forever stand in their way.

His interest in Neville had started as a scientific interest that had twisted into an obsession.

It wasn’t just about the research anymore.

It was about Neville himself.

And now Grayson had finally plucked what Ethan had been waiting to harvest.

"I’ll kill him," Ethan muttered, the words slipping out before he could stop them. "I’ll kill that bastard."

The surveillance feed continued to play on loop. Grayson laughed as the door closed. Neville’s wide-eyed, blushing expression, just a moment before the panel slid shut.

Ethan watched it again.

And again.

His fists clenched until they bled a little.

The pain somewhat woke him up.

He closed the footage.

The cabin plunged into darkness, save for the faint running lights along the floor.

Ethan sat perfectly still for a long time, staring at nothing, and let the silence press against his skull until the noise inside quieted down.

Then he opened his contact list.

He scrolled until he reached the most recent addition.

No name displayed—just a string of encrypted digits that would mean nothing to anyone but them.

He tapped it.

The line connected on the third ring.

[What’s up?] A woman’s voice, sharp-edged with irritation.

There were all sorts of noises around her—music thumping, clinking of glasses, and overlapping laughter.

It seemed like she was at a party.

Ethan’s expression didn’t change, but his tone went flat. "Get out of there first."

The woman paused. Ethan knew she heard the graveness in his tone that hadn’t been there the last time they had spoken.

[Hold on.]

It was enough as he heard the background noise change. Then, he heard a muffled whump of an exterior door and the sudden ambient quiet of the outdoors.

A few more footsteps and a hover car’s proximity sensor chimed as it recognized her approach, then the hydraulic sigh of a door sliding open and closed.

The acoustics contracted to the insulated hush.

[There,] the woman said. [Talk.]

"Why are you with other people?"

He hadn’t meant to start with that.

But, oh, well.

[A welcome party for the owner who came back,] she said, her tone hovering somewhere between nonchalant and genuinely annoyed, as if the answer should have been obvious. [Of course, I was there. What did you expect me to do, sit in my quarters and knit?]

Ethan’s fingers curled against his knee. He forced them to relax. "Don’t get too cozy. Remember the plan."

The woman let out a low, mocking snicker.

[Me? Get too cozy?] She let the words hang for exactly one beat, then twisted the knife. [How about you? You sound so pissed, even from light-years away, I can practically hear your teeth grinding.]

Ethan said nothing.

[Mm-hm,] she hummed, clearly pleased with his silence. [That’s what I thought.]

Dwelling on his own state was not going to take him anywhere. She had already extracted more than he had intended to give.

He exhaled through his nose and asked, "How’s Lilianna?"

The lazy amusement of the woman instantly changed.

She gritted each syllable as she said, [Don’t talk about that bitch.]

Ethan’s eyebrow twitched, and he leaned back in his seat. "What happened?"

[She’s done for.]

Ethan furrowed his eyebrows, "The aquarium incident happened, yes. But she’s not a discarded card yet—"

[She brought someone with her.] The woman’s voice was still flat, but she was seething in anger. [Whoever it was got her cleared and pulled her out before I could make a move. By the time I found out, she was already gone from my reach.]

Ethan froze and was visibly annoyed.

Lilianna Gringer was an unstable pawn. A liability on her best day and a loose cannon on her worst. But she was a loose cannon pointed at other people, which made her extremely useful.

"Why didn’t you do anything?" The question came out harder than intended.

The woman matched his tone without flinching.

[And risk ruining the plan?]

Each word was enunciated like she was teaching a particularly slow child.

[We didn’t spend months cleaning your shit to fail for another failure. You already cost us the last window, Ethan. I’m not letting you cost us another one.]

Ethan’s jaw tightened.

She was right, and that was the worst part.

He tried to cool his head. Tried to think clearly, but he couldn’t help it.

The image flashed back into his mind.

And his blood boiled.

Stop.

He pressed the heels of his palms against his eye sockets until stars burst behind his lids.

Drew a slow, controlled breath.

Released it.

"What do you want?" he asked, his voice dropping back to its baseline.

On the other end, the faint, lazy, contemplative sound was heard on the other end.

[Nothing,] the woman said lightly, noncommittal. [I’m just a little bored.]

Something about the way she said bored made the hair on Ethan’s arms prickle.

Not with fear, but with understanding.

It made Ethan chuckle in a low, raspy voice, with a sharp tone. It was a noise that would have made anyone take a step back.

There was really not one person around him who was normal.

Not even him.

So, is this what they call birds of a feather flock together?

Ethan thought with cold indifference.

I beg to disagree.

His hand dropped from his face.

In the blue glow of the shuttle’s standby lights, his reflection caught in the darkened viewport.

A pale, sharp-featured face that most people found approachable, even kind. Warm eyes. An easy smile that had cost him years of practice to perfect.

I’m different from them all.

The mindless anger drained from his expression, leaving behind something harder and infinitely more dangerous, a cynical expression.

When he spoke again, his voice had changed.

"You need to take Lilianna out."

Silence.

Three seconds.

Four.

[...Why?] Not a question but more of a demand for justification.

Good. At least it sounded like she was willing to listen.

Ethan leaned forward, elbows on his knees, gaze fixed on the darkened viewport where the stars streaked past in long silver threads.

"Think about it. Would Master really arrange what happened for a simple demonstration? He’s not that bored."

He could hear her breathing change as she thought of the idea over.

[I know,] she said after a beat.

[But that’s not enough to convince me.] A low, velvety chuckle. [You’ll have to do better than that, Ethan.]

"Well then." He spread his hands, a gesture she couldn’t see but could almost certainly hear in his voice. "What do you want?"

The pause this time was theatrical.

She was enjoying this.

When she finally spoke, the boredom was gone from her voice, replaced by something avid and particular.

[I want a newborn fetus.]

The words settled into the cabin air like a stone dropping into still water.

Ethan’s expression didn’t change. He had long since lost the capacity to be shocked by her requests—only annoyed by the headaches they created after.

"You know how hard it is to extract one without getting caught," he said, with irritation. "Why do you think we planted you in that place in the first place? It wasn’t so you could go shopping for specimens on the side."

[Well,] she said, utterly unbothered, [Can you do it or not?]

Ethan’s mind flickered to the inventory in his private lab. The new specimens he had acquired during this last excursion.

"I’ll get you one."

[Great.] He could hear her smile.