We shall bring them death. The words of Reviek reverberated through Samor's mind as he sat with his back against the wall, having not slept at all since returning to Sector 1560. How could he sleep? Especially after reliving the experience akin to the worst moment of his life? Exhaustion permeated him, begging to be satisfied with sleep. Samor refused it, turning a glance towards his sister and Wanya, both of whom were fast asleep in each other's arms. Peaceful. No longer crying.

  Samor had waited until they were fast asleep before allowing his tears to fall, silent as he watched some adults move Hange. She appeared so peaceful. At least she had not died suffering.

  The only problem was, just like with his mother and father, no one understood why she'd died. Hange had been fine when they'd left, laughing and caring for Wanya. Hange had been a kind woman, a backbone of support following Mother's and Father's death.

  Yet she was gone, leaving behind a daughter who didn't have anyone to protect her. At least Mya had him, but that wasn't saying much. Everything he did was guesswork, praying to Odia he'd do the right thing. So far, it had worked.

  But perhaps his luck would run out.

  Until then, I will protect her. I will make sure she gets to live, even if it costs me everything…

  Samor breathed out, realising he'd been holding more tension again. He allowed himself to rest his head back, almost surrendering to the temptation to close his eyes. He refused. Not yet. Not until Mya was alright. Though she hadn't wept a single tear, that was what made Samor afraid. He had only seen her cry once, and after, she'd become the radiant light which kept them going. In a strange sense, it was like they kept each other going. Sure, Samor acted like the adult, but did she need him? Did he make much of a difference? These were questions Samor didn't want to answer, but they were always there, crawling beneath his skin.

  Just like Reviek.

  Samor sensed the Odian now, watching through his eyes. He sensed cold judgement through his body. Retribution was coming. Part of that terrified Samor, even if he agreed with the notions the Odian discussed.

  Still, there were many questions going unanswered. Where had the Odian come from? Why had he chosen him? What was he?

  Sure, he described himself as an Odian, but weren't Odians meant to be protectors? Guardians? Reviek didn't sound like an Odian, not in the way he talked. When Samor had tried asking these questions, pangs of amusement met him, as though Reviek didn't seem inclined to answer him. That was frustrating.

  It filled Samor with the fear that he was heading towards a terrible path, but what other choice was there?

  He turned his tired gaze towards the dawn that was rising to the west of the city, illuminating the towers and buildings with an amber hue. Scents of burned-out barrels hung in the air, while a light breeze prophesied another beautiful day. Samor sensed agitation. A beautiful day. For who? Those who had money?

  Those who weren't like them?

  Something burned within, a sense of hatred that couldn't be satiated. Samor saw Goya emerge from the opposite staircase, looking at him.

  'You haven't slept at all, have you?' the old Osirin asked. Samor didn't answer. He was almost sure Goya sighed as he walked towards Samor. The old Osirin seemed content to leave the conversation there, as he sat himself down alongside Samor, releasing a contented exhale.

  'I know what this reminds you of, Samor,' Goya said, his voice soft. 'Mya too. I saw it in the way you both reacted.'

  Samor said nothing to that either, turning his gaze back towards the city, allowing himself to seethe again. It was better than to remember. Samor had tried to stop the memories from returning. Of course, he had failed.

  But at least this time he had Reviek, a welcome distraction from his memories. There was only pain within them. The agony of knowing he and Mya were alone, with no one to protect them. It took everything not to bury his chin in his folded arms, so he shook instead.

  'You're allowed to feel, Samor,' Goya said. 'You are too harsh on yourself. You're still a child.'

  'That doesn't matter,' Samor said, his face wrought with tension. 'I have to be harsh, else how can I make sure she remains safe, Goya?'

  Towards that, he sensed Goya's gaze on him, considering.

  'You're not alone. We're here for you both. A child shouldn't bear such a burden.'

  Yeah, but everyone around me is dying, Samor almost answered, thanking Odia that he didn't. After losing Hange, that truth rang a little too close. It threatened to bring the memories back.

  Of his father's last words.

  Protect Mya, Samor…

  'I promised them, Goya,' Samor said. 'I won't fail.'

  'Yes, but you must grieve, Samor. Even if it was a few months ago, those feelings you're repressing will eat you from the inside. They will prevent you from ever healing.'

  'I haven't got time to heal…' Samor said, turning so that he shifted onto his hands and knees before rising to his feet. By Odia he was so tired. Exhaustion was something he was ever-conscious of as he fought against it.

  Until it won. Until that moment, Samor resolved to keep fighting. He would protect Mya.

  And that caused something to stir within. The presence that was not Reviek. It filled him with agreement, with resolve. This only seemed to embolden his Odian, who filled Samor with relish. That terrified Samor, as he turned his gaze towards the city.

  'Goya, why are things this way?' he asked, knowing the question would catch him unaware. He sensed the older Osirin turning his head in his direction.

  'What do you mean?' Goya asked, a logical next step in the conversation. Samor smiled at that, noting how the sun was rising, casting more blues upon the amber and crimson hues that filled the sky.

  'Do you not think this is wrong?' Samor asked, turning back to regard Goya. 'We live on one of the most advanced worlds in the galaxy, yet citizens like us are barely surviving. Most Osirins pretend we don't even exist, like we're blemishes on their otherwise perfect world. Do you ever get sick of being ignored?'

  Goya smiled, as though understanding why Samor was asking those questions. Samor didn't tell Goya that the questions fuelled Reviek's emergence. To him, the answers were obvious. Everything was wrong, the result of a deluded world and its beings that felt themselves superior, hypocrites that refused to see the truth. To Reviek, they had to be shown the truth, so that it couldn't be denied.

  They needed to pay.

  'The universe is not perfect, Samor,' Goya answered instead, surprising him as he did so. Samor frowned at him, which caused the older Osirin to smile back.

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  'When you've lived as long as I. When you've seen what I've seen, you understand that most of us regard ourselves as better than we are. We choose to ignore our imperfections, our hypocrisies. Rather, we move forward, never realising the things we ignore will cause us pain and suffering in the future. Yet, it is those very things that help us learn, Samor. Yes, Osiris regards itself as better, and we are an example of this hypocrisy. But, it can learn from us. We can help it become better.'

  'How can we when we're shut away, caged like wild animals?' Samor asked.

  'We're free to come and go as we please,' Goya argued. 'It is not as simple as you think.'

  'What do you mean?' Samor asked, watching as Goya eyed him in silence. He moved to rise to his own feet.

  'I mean that I'm pretty sure I understand how you're looking at this world, Samor.' Goya said gently. 'Through your pain, you're looking for reasons to hate this world. You blame it for how our lives have turned out. Most of all, you blame it for what happened to your mother and father.'

  'Can you blame me?' Samor said, noting his agitation which he tried to contain. It seemed harder to do when he sensed Reviek inside, prodding his emotions, fuelling the anger inside. Still, Goya seemed unperturbed by this, casting his own gaze towards the rest of the city.

  'No, I guess not,' he admitted. 'But that's no reason you can't change things, Samor. Make a better life for yourself and Mya. You're both so young, so full of potential. Why waste that on anger and hate? You both can leave, go whenever you want, choose another way.'

  'And where would we go?' Samor asked, unable to help the bitterness emerging in his voice. 'We have no family, no money, nothing. How do you expect us to choose another way?'

  'You make assumptions, Samor,' Goya said. 'You think this entire world will reject you.'

  'Hasn't it?' Samor asked. 'Has it not rejected all of us?'

  'How do you know?' Goya asked. 'Has someone told you that? Or is that something you've decided?'

  'Again, is it not obvious?' Samor asked. 'Look at this place! Look at everyone here! We're all suffering, having to steal to eat and keep warm! Those who can't die, and no one outside cares!'

  Goya nodded, not agreeing or disagreeing. That extinguished Samor's anger as he rued instead. That seemed to stir Reviek more, which surprised Samor. He had expected something from the Odian, but he seemed content to listen instead.

  Why aren't you agreeing with me? Samor wondered, finding himself more confused by the Odian than ever. He shook his head before turning his gaze back to Goya.

  The old Osirin was smiling.

  'You burden yourself with all our suffering, yet unlike us, you can still make a wonderful life for yourself and for Mya. Tell me, rather than focusing on everything wrong, what do you want? Who do you want to become?'

  'Why are you asking me that?' Samor asked, frowning.

  'Because life moves on, regardless of who lives and dies, regardless of everything you see that's wrong around you. We all die someday. Is it not better to focus on what you can do, rather than what the rest of the universe should do?'

  Despite himself, Samor considered that, turning his gaze towards the floor.

  But I can do something about this world, about this universe, Samor thought, considering Reviek. Still, he hadn't considered what he wanted to do. If he wasn't homeless. If he wasn't like this. What would he choose to do? The question made him remember the Osirins he sometimes saw on the outside, wearing white robes with sashes of varying colours. They seemed smart, distinguished.

  But that seemed an impossible dream, for they were scientists. Only those with money became scientists. Only those with families who had connections to the Citadel of Science.

  'What do you dream of becoming, Samor?' Goya asked. 'If you weren't here. What would you choose?'

  'A scientist…' Samor answered, sensing another stirring from Reviek. 'I would go to the Citadel.'

  'Then what's stopping you?' Goya asked. 'There's nothing for you here, Samor. Just pain. Memories you'd rather forget. Why don't you try to see how to become a scientist?'

  'Because I know I can't,' Samor said, regarding him.

  'How do you know?' the old Osirin asked. 'Have you tried?'

  Samor said nothing to that, already knowing the answer. He turned his gaze away, frustrated. A hand rested on his shoulder.

  'You carry burdens you should not have to carry,' Goya said. 'Samor, get away from here. Please, don't allow yourself to become consumed with everything that is wrong with this world, with Osiris. Instead, take advantage of everything it has to give. You believe it judges you for your beginning, and maybe it does. That doesn't mean you can't do something. It doesn't mean you can't achieve great things. Your mother and father believed in that, and so do I.'

  'So I should just abandon you?' Samor asked, feeling a tear running down his cheek, 'Should I just run away with Mya and pretend that none of you exist, just like everyone else?'

  'If it means a better life, yes,' Goya said, smiling. 'Don't let here become your prison, Samor.'

  'But that's not fair!' Samor snapped, pulling his shoulder away from Goya's hand, turning to face him. He found his fists clenched, emotion rushing to his face. 'You think I could live with myself, knowing that I threw you all away, just to live a better life? No, I don't accept that! This world should be better! Osirins should be better!'

  'You cannot force an entire race to change, Samor…' Goya said, his smile fading. At that, Reviek chuckled.

  Oh, but I can… he said, filling Samor with anticipation. Though I agree with this Goya on many things, he can't comprehend me. What we are capable of together…

  And what are we capable of? Samor asked within. Tell me, can we make Osiris change?

  Reviek didn't answer but instead filled Samor with amusement. Samor forced himself to stifle his rising agitation. He wanted to understand Reviek, and why he had chosen Samor. There had to be more to this.

  But where could he find out the answers? The library? No, that wouldn't work. They couldn't afford to get in. But who would know anything about Reviek? If he knew, then perhaps he could decide.

  Then, an idea struck him, as he looked up towards Goya.

  'Goya, how far is the Citadel of Science from here?' he asked, watching as the old Osirin smiled at him, not possessing the faintest clue why Samor was really asking.

  'It's only a few sectors north of here,' he said, gesturing towards the city beyond. 'Are you thinking of going?'

  'Better than that…' Samor said, before turning to the sleeping forms of Mya and Wanya, 'I'm taking my sister, too.'