The formal black attire felt like armor and chains simultaneously. As I stood before the mirror in my chambers, the living fabric shifted and adjusted, responding to my bioelectric field with subtle pulses. It had been designed to highlight the wearer's natural beauty and power, which meant on my small frame, it only emphasized what Anunnaki society considered my deficiencies.

  "You look positively diminutive," my handmaiden commented as she adjusted the attire's complex folds. She was full-blood Gibillu, nearly two feet taller than me despite her supposedly inferior status. The irony wasn't lost on either of us.

  "That's the point, Sara," I replied quietly. "Mother wants everyone to remember what I am."

  Sara's eyes—a warm amber that betrayed more intelligence than was permitted for servants—met mine in the mirror. "And what is that, my lady?"

  "A reminder of failure. A cautionary tale."

  Her hands paused in their work, then resumed with deliberate gentleness. "Some would say you are a miracle. The blending of two polarized worlds."

  I almost smiled at that. Sara had been with me since childhood, one of the few constants in my life. She didn't know about our plans for tonight, and it was better that way. The less she knew, the safer she would be when they discovered we were gone.

  "Miracles are celebrated," I said. "I am tolerated. And not much at that."

  The words conjured memories I usually kept carefully locked away. I was four when I first understood I was different. My cousin—full-blooded Anunnaki—had invited me to play in the Gardens of the Black Sun. I'd been so excited, so naively happy to be included. I still remembered the weightless joy as I ran between the towering crystalline structures that chimed softly in the artificial breeze.

  Then I heard the laughter.

  They had surrounded me, five royal children, all at least two feet taller despite being my same age. Their leader—a boy whose name I later learned was Shamac—had smiled with perfect cruelty.

  "Look at it," he'd said. "It can barely reach the lowest crystals."

  "Is it really Lady Ereshkigal's daughter?" Another had asked. "It looks more like an abandoned pet."

  I had stood frozen, confused, as they circled me. Shamac reached out and gave me a push. Just enough to make me stumble backward.

  "So fragile," he'd laughed. "I bet it breaks easily."

  What followed was my first lesson in Anunnaki social hierarchy. They took turns pushing me, never hard enough to leave marks that would raise questions, but enough that I fell repeatedly. When I tried to run, they caught me easily with their longer legs. When I cried out, they mocked my voice.

  It ended only when a gardener happened by and the children scattered, leaving me huddled against one of the crystal formations, tears streaming down my face, sobbing uncontrollably.

  I returned to my mother's quarters that evening with dirt and scrapes all over my body. She looked up from her work, her perfect face showing nothing but mild irritation.

  "You're filthy," she'd observed coldly. "Clean yourself before dinner."

  Later, I overheard her speaking with one of her attendants. "The girl is proving disappointing. Its physical development is stunted compared to projections."

  It. Not she. Not my daughter. Just it.

  That night, I learned to cry silently.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  "My lady?" Sara's voice pulled me back to the present. "It's nearly time."

  I blinked, refocusing on my reflection. My attire was properly arranged now, its living fabric pulsing slightly with my heartbeat. The formal headdress—a delicate construction of copperish and black crystal—made my platinum hair look almost white by contrast.

  "Thank you, Sara." I turned to face her. "…There's something I need you to do for me after I leave."

  Her eyes widened slightly, but she nodded. "Anything, my lady."

  I went to my desk and removed a small data crystal, pressing it into her palm. "When the third moon reaches its zenith, go to the archives and place this in the central repository. Then return to your quarters and destroy your access key."

  "My lady, this sounds like—"

  I placed a finger against her lips, silencing her. "Don't say it. Don't even think it or they will know. Just know that you have been seen, Sara. All these years, you have been understood."

  Understanding dawned in her eyes, along with something I rarely witnessed directed toward me—respect. She closed her fingers around the crystal and bowed deeply.

  "As you wish, my lady."

  A soft chime indicated it was time to proceed to the Hall of the Black Sun. I took one last look around my chambers—the books I had collected, the secret writings hidden in various locations, the small comforts I had created in this cold place. None of it would matter after tonight.

  The journey to the Hall was a gauntlet of sidelong glances and whispered comments. Royal attendants, announcing names, faltered slightly when I approached as if unsure whether to include me with the full-blooded royalty. Guards stood straighter when Anunnaki nobles passed but relaxed their posture when I walked by.

  A thousand small cuts, delivered daily for decades.

  I had cataloged each one.

  The Hall itself was a monument to Anunnaki excess. It was a vast space with ceilings that soared hundreds of feet upward, supported by columns of polished black stone veined with gold and pewter. Though, in my opinion, it was not even a sliver as beautiful as even the most basic human art. Hovering light sources cast dramatic shadows across the assembled elite of Nibiru society. At the far end stood the empty Black Throne, soon to be occupied by Enrosha’s father.

  I spotted Enrosha immediately, her height and lustrous afro making her easy to find among the crowd. Unlike me, she had more or less embraced her hybrid status in her appearance, wearing her attire in a style that combined traditional Anunnaki formal wear with minor elements inspired by past Earth cultures. Despite being half-blood, her imposing physical presence and status as Enzu's daughter afforded her a respect I’d never known and would never know.

  Qali was more difficult to locate, but eventually I found her near one of the refreshment tables, engaged in what appeared to be forced conversation with a group of technical administrators. Her ginger hair was elaborately braided, and her freckled face was composed in a mask of polite interest that only those who truly knew her, Enrosha and I, would recognize as false.

  I made my way toward her, navigating the edges of the crowd to avoid unnecessary interaction.

  "Ah, Ophelia," a voice called, stopping me in my tracks.

  I turned to find myself facing Lord Nergal—my mother’s official husband, Qali's father, and one of the most feared members of the Anunnaki Council. His towering frame, nearly twelve feet of muscled perfection, made me feel like I was four years old in comparison.

  "My lord," I said, bowing my head in the expected gesture of deference.

  His eyes—black as the void—studied me with the clinical interest one might show a mildly interesting bug. "I understand you've been spending considerable time in the archives recently."

  My heart stuttered, but my face remained impassive. "Yes, my lord. I find our history fascinating."

  "What aspects, specifically, have captured your attention?"

  I chose my words carefully. "Conquest, war, pestilence, and death, mainly, my lord. As well as the strategic dominance over Earth, and the anthropological studies of human civilization."

  His lips curved in what might generously be called a smile. "Appropriate interests for one of your... composition. Though, may you enlighten me as to why you've accessed files related to the recent disturbance?"

  "Mere curiosity, my lord. Such events are unprecedented in our history, and my only wish is to study these events as an additional vector; a vector of continued prosperity for our collective."

  Nergal leaned closer, his massive form casting me in shadow. "Curiosity is a trait we… encourage… within boundaries. But, do not get it twisted, little woodlouse, exceeding those boundaries can lead to unfortunate consequences." His voice dropped lower. "Even for the bastard mongrel spawn of my wife."

  Before I could respond, trumpets sounded, announcing the beginning of the ceremony. Nergal straightened, his attention shifting to the Black Throne.

  "Enjoy the celebration, little one," he said, dismissing me with a casual wave.

  As he moved away, I released a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. The encounter confirmed what we already suspected—they were watching us. Perhaps they had been all along.

  Which meant our window of opportunity was closing fast.

  I glanced toward Enrosha, who had witnessed the exchange. She gave me an almost imperceptible nod.