The bed was disgustingly soft on Cain's back as he laid down. His eyes were focused on the viney ceiling, while his cybernetic eye flashed information about the type of plants used in this room; grape vines adorned the ceiling and the corners of the room. The walls were plastered with simpler vegetation such as moss.

  He sighed and shook his head as the memories of the meeting with Synara flooded his brain again. He clenched his fist. ‘A pawn that reaches the other side of the board becomes a queen.’ Synaras voice recalled in his mind. Cain struggled to understand what she meant. He knew it was a figure of speech. But for the first time in his life he couldn’t grasp the exact idea the person followed.

  He hated this feeling. He hated not knowing. He hated not being sure. It was a feeling he didn’t feel since he was a child.

  ?Blind loyalty, Cain, is nothing more than a leash. A chain around your neck, pulled tight by the will of those you serve.? Synaras voice pressed on. ?I’ve learned how to bend the chains that bind me. You, though? You’re still letting them drag you wherever they please.? Cain bit his lip. ?You matter, Cain. But not to them. Never to them.?

  He clenched his eyes shut, doing his best to drown out her voice when, like a wish came true, his datapad rang out with the most annoying sound imaginable

  With a groan, Cain rolled over and snatched the device off the bedside table. The caller ID was enough to make his stomach tighten. Elohan.

  Forcing himself upright, he swiped to accept the call. The screen flickered to life, revealing Elohan’s sharp, calculating features. His eyes bore into Cain with the weight of judgment.

  ?Cain,? Elohan said, his voice calm yet carrying a weight that made Cain sit up straighter.

  ?Sir,? Cain replied, his tone clipped, doing his best to suppress the uncertainty gnawing at him.

  ?I’ve received Synara’s report on your meeting,? Elohan began. There was no preamble, no warmth. Only business. ?And I must say, I am... disappointed.?

  Cain’s heart sank, though his expression remained stoic. ?I handled the meeting as I was instructed,? he said defensively.

  Elohan’s holographic eyes narrowed slightly. ?Did you? Synara walked away from that meeting feeling emboldened. You didn’t hold your ground, Cain. You allowed her to undermine your authority with words. Words, Cain. Do you understand how weak that makes you appear??

  Cain’s jaw tightened. ?She’s manipulative. It’s what she does.?

  ?And yet, your brother would never have let her get the better of him,? Elohan said smoothly, his tone sharper now. ?Abel knows how to handle situations like these. He knows how to command respect.?

  The comparison hit like a punch to the gut. Cain felt his chest tighten, his fists clenching. ?I’m not Abel,? he said through gritted teeth.

  ?No,? Elohan replied coldly. ?You’re not. Abel knows how to navigate the complexities of power. He knows how to balance loyalty with competence. You, Cain...? Elohan leaned forward, his holographic image growing more imposing. ?Your loyalty is meaningless without competence.?

  The words struck Cain like a blade. He felt the familiar burn of anger rising in his chest, but he forced it down, meeting Elohan’s gaze with a defiance he didn’t entirely feel. ?I’ll do better,? he said simply.

  ?You’ll have to,? Elohan replied. ?Because if you can’t, Cain, then you’re no use to me. And I don’t keep useless tools.?

  The line went dead, leaving Cain alone in the room, the faint hum of the datapad the only sound.

  For a long moment, he didn’t move. Elohan’s words echoed in his mind, each one digging deeper than the last.

  ?Your loyalty is meaningless without competence.?

  Cain’s fists tightened, his nails digging into his palms. He stood abruptly, pacing the length of the room, his thoughts a storm of frustration and doubt. The vine-covered walls seemed to close in on him, the soft bed now a mockery of the comfort he couldn’t afford to feel.

  He thought of Abel—perfect, untouchable Abel. The golden son who always seemed to do everything right. And then he thought of Synara, her smirk, her words like poison.

  Cain stopped, his breathing heavy, his mind racing. He couldn’t shake the feeling that they were both right. Synara’s taunts, Elohan’s disappointment—they all pointed to the same bitter truth.

  Something had to change.

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  But what?

  For the first time in his life, Cain didn’t have a clear answer.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  Cain put his sword and gun back into their holster and straightened his back as he looked out the window, overlooking the blooming city below. The sun started to set already and the city light sprawled to life.

  He watched it with disdain.

  The vibrancy, the beauty—it all felt hollow. A fa?ade to hide the rot that ran through this city. It, like so much else, belonged to Synara’s domain, and her influence seeped into everything, down to the glowing lights that illuminated the streets below. Cain turned away from the view with a sharp exhale, grabbing the small bag he’d brought with him. He hadn’t unpacked much—he never did.

  As he swung the bag over his shoulder, his datapad chimed again. He froze for a moment, his jaw tightening. Another call from Elohan? Synara, perhaps, with more veiled insults wrapped in sweet words?

  He glanced at the screen, and his brows furrowed when he saw the name: Abel.

  Cain hesitated before answering, forcing his expression into neutrality as the holographic projection materialized in front of him. Abel’s face came into view—handsome, confident, with the kind of ease that only came to those who were always at the top.

  ?Cain,? Abel greeted warmly, his voice carrying that familiar air of effortless charisma. ?You look... tense. Long day??

  Cain clenched his teeth behind a polite smile. ?You could say that. What do you want, Abel??

  Abel chuckled, leaning back in his seat. The faint hum of a ship's engine was audible in the background, indicating he was likely mid-journey. ?Always so direct. You haven’t changed a bit.?

  Cain stayed silent, his fingers tightening around the strap of his bag.

  ?I’m heading to Elohan’s district next week,? Abel continued, his tone light, almost casual. ?I thought I’d let you know. It’s been a while since we caught up, hasn’t it??

  Cain’s stomach twisted. Caught up. As though they were equals, as though Abel hadn’t always been the favored son, the golden warrior, the one who stood where Cain had always wanted to stand.

  ?It has,? Cain said evenly, his voice betraying none of the resentment simmering beneath.

  ?Good,? Abel said, his smile widening. ?I’ve got some downtime while I’m there. How about we go out? There’s a little place I know—not too formal, not too flashy. Just a couple of brothers sharing a drink and talking about life.?

  Cain’s grip tightened further. He hated how easy Abel made everything seem, how effortlessly he could extend an invitation that Cain couldn’t refuse without looking petty or weak.

  ?That sounds... fine,? Cain replied, his voice carefully measured.

  ?Great!? Abel said, clapping his hands together. ?I’ll message you the details closer to the date. And Cain…?

  Cain met his brother’s gaze through the projection, bracing himself.

  ?I know things aren’t always easy under Elohan,? Abel said, his tone softening. ?But you’re doing good work. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.?

  Cain’s jaw tightened, the compliment landing like a punch to the gut. Did Abel mean it? Or was it just another one of his patronizing reassurances? Cain couldn’t tell, and it frustrated him to no end.

  ?Thanks,? Cain said curtly.

  Abel tilted his head, his expression briefly curious as if sensing the tension, but he didn’t press. ?Take care of yourself, brother. I’ll see you soon.?

  The projection faded, leaving Cain alone in the room.

  For a moment, he stood frozen, his bag still slung over his shoulder, his mind racing. Abel’s words echoed in his head—you’re doing good work—and Cain couldn’t decide if he wanted to scream or laugh.

  He turned back to the window, his reflection staring back at him in the glass. The city below sparkled brightly, indifferent to his inner turmoil.

  Cain exhaled sharply and adjusted the strap on his shoulder. It didn’t matter. Not Abel, not Synara, not Elohan. None of it mattered.

  What mattered was the mission. The orders. The work.

  And he would do it, no matter what.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  Cain stepped away from the window, turning his back on the glowing cityscape. He adjusted the strap of his bag and made his way toward the door, his boots clicking softly against the floor. Each step echoed in the quiet room, amplifying the nagging thoughts he was trying to push away.

  This is fine. The words repeated in his head like a mantra. Everything is fine.

  He passed a mirror on the way out and caught a glimpse of himself—straight posture, sharp uniform, the faint scar across his neck just barely visible in the dim light. His cybernetic eye glimmered faintly, a constant reminder of what he’d lost. He paused, staring at his reflection for a moment longer than he intended.

  ?You’re doing good work,? Qbel’s voice echoed in his mind, mixing with Elohan’s biting words. ?Your loyalty is meaningless without competence.?

  Cain clenched his jaw, tearing his gaze away from the mirror. He didn’t need their approval. He didn’t need anyone’s approval.

  He stepped out into the hallway, the vegetation-lined walls whispering with the faint hum of Synara’s influence. The softness of this place felt wrong—alien to him. It made his skin crawl.

  He gripped the strap of his bag tightly and exhaled slowly. ?You’re fine,? he muttered under his breath, the words meant to sound reassuring but falling flat.

  The corridor stretched ahead, dimly lit by bioluminescent flora. Each step he took felt heavier, as though the weight of Synara’s words, Elohan’s disappointment, and Abel’s effortless charm were dragging him down.

  But he pushed forward. He had to.

  Orders. Focus on the mission. That’s all that matters.

  He repeated the thought over and over, trying to drown out the doubts clawing at the edges of his mind. Doubts about Synara’s intentions, Elohan’s growing dissatisfaction, and the unsettling idea that Abel might have been genuinely trying to help.

  No. He wouldn’t entertain those thoughts.

  Cain straightened his shoulders as he reached the end of the corridor, stepping into the dim light of the city outside. The air was thick with the scent of flowers, another reminder of Synara’s touch on this place.

  ?This is fine. You’re fine?

  But as he stepped into the bustling city streets, surrounded by people who moved with purpose and ease, a nagging voice at the back of his mind whispered the truth he refused to face:

  ?You’re not fine. And you haven’t been for a long time.?