He looks at me.

  As if I said something rotten. Something disgusting. Like an idea pitched that would get laughed at amongst the team.

  I can’t tell if he’s surprised, or anything. Maybe surprised on the revelation he’s caught me. I’m a phony. I’m no true ranchmaster.

  “Look around. It’s became the norm. Nobody bats an eye, and even everyone in the lobby knows.”

  “Even if someone did care—what would they do? Korioh Landings spent a century perfecting the lie. You’ve said it best yourself. For a century, it’s been here.”

  “Meaning that we? You, me? We are just another speck in the history of this place, fulfilling a role. Another gear in a rusted system. How long until someone finds out? What if they never do? What if they can’t?”

  “I’ve noticed it when I got here. I was hoping that the “slaves” in question were just mindless monsters, but they weren’t. They were living, breathing, people. Probably with their own aspirations and dreams. That are all shackled away by the atmosphere of this place.”

  “You and I are nothing more than pieces, working for the system. It’s not the people, or the Oni. It’s Flugel. He’s the system. I seen the way his greed and overall behavior is of him.”

  “He’s indefinite, and everlasting. He fulfills his fantasies and desires on the Oni whenever, however he wants. His greed, his lust, his flesh—it'll all outlive us. He'll keep devouring until this world burns down to ash... and even then, he'll still be hungry.”

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  I slowly look at him, turning to. Just to see anything. Just to see if Wayne still had that sliver of confidence and hope in his eyes as before.

  But it was gone.

  I didn’t know what I should say after, or what I wanted to. I’ve never had the chance formally to express how I feel.

  And now that I’ve done so?

  I feel sick for even thinking about it. Sick for even going on with this lie any further.

  I didn’t say much afterwards. Neither did he. We sat in the water, quiet, tormented, and confused.

  Because in all honesty, neither of us knew how to get out of this.

  I couldn’t tell, if he was genuine. About the whole slavery thing. I originally thought he was a spy. Perhaps to questions my motives. Make sure I’m still a decent discriminatory ranchmaster.

  And I failed. Right here.

  But the more I think about it.

  The more I’m starting to realize he might just be like me.

  As in, tired of the system. But not having power to change anything. Anything at all.

  Maybe his genuine concern for slavery was real, and that he was tired, and was looking towards me to help him.

  But I’m nothing more than the Golden Insignia I’m respected by. All the power, but none of it for myself. In the end, it’s nothing more than stolen valor.

  I don’t say anything other than that, not that I could or wanted to. I sat there. Sinked into the water.

  For the rest of the time, neither of us had said anything.

  Maybe it’s better to not say anything at all, and suffer in silence.