Zara Thandros had thick blonde hair cut into a sharp bob. She was pretty, or was she? Something about her felt off. Lex couldn’t pinpoint her age—perhaps she looked like she was in her mid to late forties, but there was something about her that made him truly believe she had watched over the eons of human history, like a deity, knowing everything since the colonization of Cetos V—maybe even before that. There was an aura around her, one that taught him what fear really was.
She sat behind a stainless steel desk that curved elegantly across the wide expanse of the office. Lex noticed that the glass wall behind him was one-way, meaning Zara Thandros could have been watching him the whole time.
"Lex Marrow," she said. "The boy who fought his way from Limbo all the way to Vega Prime."
Her voice was cold and sharp, echoing off the glass walls.
Lex didn’t know how to respond, so he said nothing. Below them, the ocean stretched out endlessly, and the crimson red evening sun poured in at an angle, casting a warm cognac glow through the tinted windows.
"What I truly admire in a man," she said, "is ambition. His sacrifice for his goals—it's a kind of heroism. Very few are willing to give up everything, do anything, to advance their pursuits. I admire men who set their sights so high that only they believe they can reach those heights."
She paused for a moment, and in the silence, her gaze pierced him, waiting for some reaction. Lex felt the pressure to respond building under her intense scrutiny.
"Thank you," he said, but it came out more like a question.
"Not so fast, boy," she spat the word "boy" with venom. "There’s another type of man I can't stand. Unfortunately, he's sometimes confused with the kind I admire. Do you know what kind of person I’m talking about?"
Lex shook his head.
"I’m talking about the dreamer. The lost among us—the failure. Do you know what defines a dreamer, Lex Marrow?"
He remained silent.
"The essence of the tragedy lies in the name itself: the dreamer lives in a dream, whether it comes true or not. In fact, it’s almost better if it doesn’t. The dreamer doesn’t see the world as it is, and because of that, they also have a distorted image of themselves. They waste their lives chasing after fulfillment, like a dog chasing its own tail. Dreamers pursue ideals, beauty and aesthetics. Or let’s say, they long for a perfect life where, in their fantasy, everything is fair and beautiful, where everyone is happy and treated kindly. But one day, the dreamer wakes up to reality. And the dreamer’s punishment is the moment of awakening. From that moment on, their entire existence falls apart."
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A heavy silence hung in the room. Zara Thandros gazed thoughtfully at the setting sun, as if she had created not just the city below but the entire universe itself.
"Do you believe there's an answer that can make everyone happy?"
Lex pressed his lips together, not knowing what to say.
"There will always be sacrifices," she continued. "There will always be those who think differently, who stand in your way. That’s just how it is, and I can live with that. I even respect it in some cases. But now, tell me, Lex Marrow from Limbo Two—why are you here? Are you a dreamer, a weakling, a nobody? Or are you a man with real ambition?"
The boy hesitated. "I think... I’m the one with ambition," he replied.
"Good," she said theatrically, almost like a mother praising a child for the right answer. "Because dreamers turn into nobodies—beggars, drunks, gamblers, criminals. Or worse: followers of the Crimson Dawn. And I don’t want to see you fall into that fate."
Lex thought about where this conversation was heading. Then he said, "My goal was to get off Limbo. And I don’t think I had much time for dreaming there."
Thandros gave a thin smile, one entirely devoid of warmth, as she calmly observed the change in the boy. His neck veins throbbed. His breathing quickened. He was terribly nervous, focusing all his energy on keeping his voice steady, making sure it didn’t tremble as he spoke: "I know you’ve never been there. Limbo Two, I mean. Or any of the prison moons, for that matter. But I can tell you this: Anyone who’s lazy there gets beaten or whipped. If you’re sick or can’t work, you starve unless some other prisoner helps you. If you don’t have friends, you’re already as good as dead. People get tortured, beaten and killed with shock weapons for no reason at all. I was exiled, and that’s where I found the Black Orb that brought me here today. Otherwise, I’d be dead there too. My parents died working honorably. I never even knew my father; he died before I was born. But that’s what we prisoners live for, right? Our work. Hard labor. It’s how we repay our debt to God. Not that I know who still believes in that, or who just doesn’t care anymore. That’s just how life is for us down there. But I didn’t want to play that game anymore. And now, here I am, and it doesn’t feel so bad so far, so I guess that means I’m not a dreamer after all—just a guy who got lucky and reached his goals."
Zara Thandros stared at him for a while.
"The problem with you talkers is that you still need to prove yourselves."
"You think I’m a talker?"
"I fear you might be worse."
"Why do I need to prove anything to you? I’m a free citizen of Vega Prime now, I—"
She cut him off with just a gesture, her next words cold and matter-of-fact: "You’re not free. You never were and never will be. This city, this planet, the moons—they all belong to me. Your life belongs to me. And if I think your pathetic ego might align itself with the terrorists of Crimson Dawn, then you’ll have to prove me wrong. Though so far, that’s never happened."
The boy said nothing for a long moment. Then, "And how am I supposed to prove to you that all I want is to live my life in freedom?"
She smiled. "By leaving Vega Prime and heading south," she said. "I need your skills as a mechanic in the diamond mines. Your train leaves in three days."
Her words froze him in place.
He was too shocked to respond, his mind immediately flashing to Veela and the realization that Thandros was going to tear them apart and destroy everything—his fortune, his happiness.
"You can’t do that," he said.
"It’s already been decided."
"But I don’t wanna go."
"You’re dismissed, Lex Marrow," she said, smiling kindly. "Oh, and I almost forgot the most important thing: I forgive your inherited debt. Go, live your life. Hopefully, it’ll give you all you’ve hoped for."