Before I went to meet Vorak, Zara insisted that I had to be clean before going to see him. “He abhors filth and won’t stand for it in his office,” she said.
She led me to a large, circular room with sleek, white walls that seemed to glow from within. As soon as the door slid shut behind me, a disembodied voice filled the space.
“Please remove all clothing and place it in the designated receptacle,” the voice instructed, cool and androgynous.
I hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. After everything I’d been through, modesty seemed a bit pointless. I stripped off my grimy clothes and dropped them into a small hatch that had opened in the wall.
“Step into the cleansing chamber,” the voice directed.
A section of the wall slid away, revealing a glass cubicle. As I stepped inside, jets of warm mist enveloped me. It wasn’t just water—the vapor seemed to cling to my skin, dissolving dirt and grime and blood on contact.
“Oh yes,” I cooed as the jets hit my skin. “Finally…”
Suddenly, pinpoints of red light danced across my body. I flinched, expecting pain, but felt only a mild warmth. Looking down, I realized the lasers were trimming my hair and beard with microscopic precision.
“Not too short,” I instructed, almost afraid to move in case the lasers cut into my flesh.
The process lasted only a few minutes. When it was done, I felt cleaner than I had in years. Stepping out of the cubicle, I found my clothes neatly folded on a bench, looking and smelling as if they were brand new.
As I dressed, I caught sight of myself in a full-length mirror that materialized on one wall. I hardly recognized the man staring back at me. My hair was perfectly trimmed, my beard neat and shaped. My skin looked healthier, and even the dark circles under my eyes seemed less pronounced.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” I muttered, running a hand over my smooth jaw. “Welcome back there, Kade.”
Shaking my head in wonder, I made my way to the exit. The door slid open, revealing Zara waiting in the hallway.
Her eyebrows raised slightly as she took in my transformed appearance. “Much better,” she said, her tone professional but with a hint of approval. “You clean up nice.” She paused to look down at the electric yellow jockstrap. “Is that garish thing really necessary?”
I glanced down at the Bulk Hogan Holder. “I can’t bring the Kademania without it.”
Zara shook her head. “Come on, let’s not keep Mr. Vorak waiting.”
As we walked away, I couldn’t help but marvel at the technology that could make me look like a new man in mere minutes. It was just another reminder of how far from home I truly was.
“So, Zara,” I said as we walked down a long corridor. “What’s your story?”
“What do you mean?” Zara asked, looking uncomfortable now.
“Have you ever took part in the Trials of the Damned?”
She shook her head. “Perish the thought. I was born here in this city.”
“Do you like it here? It seems like a cool place.”
“For some it is.”
“Does that include you? You seem to have done well for yourself, working in Infernova HQ.”
“I suppose I’m better off than most.”
“I’m sensing a but.”
She shrugged. “Not everything is as it seems here, Kade.”
“Meaning what?”
“Meaning it’s best if you don’t ask questions.”
I was about to do the opposite, but decided not to when I sensed how fearful Zara seemed, as if she knew others were watching and listening. Others that might cause her trouble, perhaps.
“So what does Vorak want?” I asked her instead as I followed her onto some sort of platform at the end of the corridor we had just walked down. The halls of the Infernova building were a maze of sleek, metallic surfaces that seemed to stretch endlessly in every direction. Holographic displays flickered along the walls, showcasing the latest ratings and highlights from the Trials of the Damned.
“I don’t know,” Zara said as she stepped onto a metal circle on the platform. “He doesn’t tell me anything. Stand on the circle.”
“What for?” I stood on the circle and faced forward as Zara then inputted something on a small screen next to her. A second later, it felt like my whole body had disintegrated, and then I was standing in what I thought was the same place, but actually wasn’t. We were in a vast, opulent chamber that could only be the top floor of Infernova’s towering headquarters.
The room was a stark contrast to the utilitarian corridors below. Plush, crimson carpets covered the floor, muffling our footsteps. The walls were adorned with what looked like real wood paneling—a luxury I hadn’t seen since arriving in this strange world. Floating holo-screens displayed an array of data streams and live feeds from various Trials, their soft glow casting an eerie light across the room.
Everywhere I looked, the Infernova logo dominated the space—a stylized red flame encased in a black hexagon. It was emblazoned on the walls, etched into the glass of floor-to-ceiling windows, and even projected as shimmering holograms that rotated slowly in the air. The design was simple yet menacing, perfectly encapsulating the corporation’s iron grip on entertainment and, by extension, society itself.
Through the windows, I could see a cityscape unlike anything I’d ever witnessed on Earth. Towering spires of glass and metal stretched into the violet sky, their surfaces alive with scrolling advertisements and news tickers. Vehicles that looked more like sleek pods zipped between the buildings in orderly lines, far above the barely visible ground below.
As I took in the surroundings, I couldn’t help but notice the subtle yet pervasive signs of the galaxy’s sociopolitical structure. Alongside the Infernova branding were posters and holograms espousing unity, productivity, and unwavering loyalty to the galactic government. The messages were couched in positive terms, but the underlying threat was clear—conform or face the consequences.
“This place...” I muttered, struggling to process the sheer scale of technology and control on display.
Zara’s expression remained neutral, but her eyes darted around nervously. “Welcome to the heart of Infernova,” she said quietly. “Try not to look too impressed. They feed on that sort of thing.”
As we moved further into the space, I noticed a series of doors along one wall, each bearing a different alien script alongside the common galactic language. It struck me then just how vast the reach of Infernova and the Trials must be—spanning countless worlds, yet all under the same iron-fisted rule.
“So, in this fancy setup,” I said, trying to keep my voice low, “I’m guessing the big shots like Vorak pretty much do whatever they want?”
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Zara’s jaw tightened. “You have no idea,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “Now, let’s not keep him waiting. He doesn’t like that.”
As we approached a set of imposing black doors at the far end of the room, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was walking into the lair of a predator—one that controlled not just this building, but the fates of entire worlds. The Trials of the Damned suddenly felt like a much bigger game than I had ever imagined, and I was just beginning to understand how small a piece I truly was.
Zara approached the imposing black doors, each etched with intricate, alien symbols that seemed to writhe and shift under my gaze. She knocked three times, each rap echoing ominously in the vast chamber.
“Enter,” came Vorak’s silky voice from within.
With a slight tremor in her hand, Zara pushed open the doors and ushered me inside. The room that greeted us was cavernous, easily the size of a ballroom. The far wall was entirely glass, offering a breathtaking view of the alien cityscape beyond. Vorak’s desk, a massive slab of what looked like polished obsidian, dominated the center of the room.
As I took in my surroundings, several unsettling details caught my eye. In one corner stood a statue of a multi-armed, vaguely humanoid figure, its face a mass of tentacles. Strange symbols, similar to those on the door but more complex, were etched into the floor in concentric circles around the desk. On a pedestal near the windows, a pulsing, crystalline object gave off an eerie purple glow.
My attention was drawn to a colossal screen taking up most of the left wall. It displayed a grid of smaller screens, each showing a different scene from the Trials. I watched, transfixed, as beings of all shapes and sizes fought, ran, and died for the entertainment of trillions. Had Vorak sat at his desk, watching me run around as well, that smug smile on his face as he watched me suffer? I had no doubt that he had.
“Thank you, Zara.” Vorak’s smooth voice cut through my observations. I turned to see him giving her a predatory smile that made my skin crawl. “That will be all.”
Zara dipped her head in a quick bow and left, the doors closing behind her with a soft hiss.
Vorak’s unnerving purple eyes fixed on me. “Drink, Kade?” He gestured to a crystal decanter filled with a swirling, iridescent liquid.
Every instinct screamed that this was a trap, but I nodded, not wanting to show weakness. “Sure, why not?”
Vorak’s thin lips curled into a smile as he poured two glasses. He handed me one, then beckoned me toward the windows. “Tell me, Kade, what do you think of our fair city?”
I approached cautiously, taking in the vista before me. The alien metropolis stretched as far as the eye could see, a labyrinth of towering spires and streams of flying vehicles.
“It’s... impressive,” I admitted, taking a sip of the drink. It tasted like liquid starlight, leaving a tingling sensation on my tongue.
“This is Aethoria,” Vorak said, his voice swelling with pride. “Capital of Centra Prime, the jewel at the heart of our galaxy.” He spread his arms wide, encompassing the view. “One of the largest and most influential worlds in the Nyxarion Empire. Most of the galaxy’s power structures are centered here, including the Nyxarion government headquarters.”
He turned to me, purple eyes glowing with intensity. “Do you understand what that means, Kade? Every decision that shapes the lives of trillions is made within a stone’s throw of where we stand.” He chuckled, the sound like ice cracking. “Of course, some decisions carry more weight than others.”
Vorak moved back to his desk, trailing a long-fingered hand across its surface. “Infernova may be just one corporation among many, but our influence... well, let’s just say it extends far beyond mere entertainment.” He fixed me with a penetrating stare. “The Trials of the Damned are more than just a show, Kade. They’re a pressure valve for an entire galactic society, a way to channel the darker impulses of the masses into something... productive.”
He sat in his chair and leaned back in it, the epitome of arrogant ease. “And I, as senior executive, hold the valve. I decide who lives, who dies, who becomes a star, and who fades into obscurity.” His smile widened, revealing those unnaturally sharp teeth. “So tell me, Kade, how does it feel to be in the presence of someone who can reshape the destiny of entire worlds with a single word?”
Jesus Christ, is this guy for real? He’s like Gordon fucking Gekko, if Gekko was a seven-foot-tall alien sociopath with purple eyes and a god complex. The way he talked about reshaping destinies and controlling the fates of entire worlds, you’d think he was some kind of twisted cosmic puppeteer, not just the head of a glorified reality TV empire.
I felt a sarcastic answer bubbling to the surface, but I forced it back down. It probably wouldn’t do to piss off Vorak at this stage. He seemed the type to take drastic measures over the slightest perceived insult, and I didn’t want to end up repurposed somewhere awful.
“I’m honored,” I said, looking him in the eyes so he could see my sincerity.
He stared back for a second, then nodded. “As you should be. Not every contestant makes it up here.”
“So why am I here?” I asked. “Mind if I sit?”
“I do. You may continue to stand.”
I forced a tight smile. “So why am I here?” I asked again.
Vorak leaned forward, steepling his long fingers. “The Trials need a star, Kade. The masses crave someone to latch onto, to root for... or against.” His eyes gleamed. “You might just be that someone.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Me? Why?”
“There are other standouts, of course,” Vorak said, waving a hand dismissively. “But you... there’s something about you. Potential, shall we say?” He fixed me with his unsettling gaze. “But potential isn’t enough. You need to be molded, shaped into what the audience truly wants.”
Shaped? Molded? Fuck that. “And what’s that?”
“A lone wolf. A true action hero,” Vorak said, his voice taking on a theatrical quality. “Which means, Kade, you need to ditch the dead weight. Annalise, Snuggles... they’re holding you back.”
My jaw clenched. “They’re my friends.”
Vorak’s laugh was cold and brittle. “Friends? In the Trials? Don’t be naive.” He leaned back again. “Here’s the deal—play ball, go solo, and I’ll make sure you get... advantages. Better weapons, easier paths. You could go far.”
The offer was tempting, I had to admit. But the thought of abandoning Annalise and Snuggles made my stomach churn. “No,” I said, surprised by the firmness in my voice. “I’m not ditching my friends.”
Vorak’s eyes flashed dangerously, and for a moment, I thought he might lash out. Instead, he smiled, but it was a smile devoid of any warmth. “I can make things very difficult for you, Kade. Very difficult indeed.”
For fuck’s sake, I thought as my fingers tightened around the glass I was holding. Shit never changes, does it?
It was the same back on Earth. Be a good little boy and play the game your masters tell you to, and you’ll be rewarded. But the price for doing so is your integrity and your soul. It was always too high a price for me. Even in the fight game, I could’ve gone further than I did, if I’d been willing to throw a few fights here and there so unscrupulous assholes could make more money. But I was never willing to. It went against everything I stood for, the values my parents had instilled in me—honor, integrity, loyalty.
And now here I was, galaxies away from home, facing the same old bullshit. Different setting, same game. The faces might be alien, but the greed and corruption were all too familiar. Vorak, with his sharp teeth and glowing eyes, was just another suit trying to own me, to bend me to his will.
I stood my ground, meeting Vorak’s gaze. “I’ll take my chances,” I said, my voice steady despite the anger bubbling inside me.
“Think it over,” Vorak said, his voice deceptively soft. “If you enter the Second Circle with your... friends... in tow, I’ll know your decision. And I’ll find someone else to elevate.” He turned away, dismissing me.
Asshole, I thought, placing the glass on his desk, knowing it would annoy him. It did, and he shot me a look as I caught his gaze.
Turning, I went to walk out of the massive office. But as I did, my eyes fell on the strange statue again.
The multi-armed figure loomed in the corner, its presence seeming to distort the very air around it. What I had initially taken for tentacles writhing across its face now looked more like a mass of squirming worms or maggots, each one seeming to pulse with an unnatural life of its own. The arms—and I realized with a chill that there were far more than any being should have—weren’t positioned in any kind of symmetry or grace. Instead, they twisted and contorted in ways that hurt my eyes to follow, as if they were reaching through dimensions I couldn’t perceive.
The longer I stared, the more wrong it felt. The statue wasn’t just alien—it was antithetical to everything I understood about life and reality. Its form seemed to reject the very concept of natural order, each curve and angle an affront to the laws of physics and biology. It was far worse even than any monster I’d met in the Trials.
A deep, primal part of my brain screamed at me to look away, to run, to forget I’d ever seen this abomination. But I couldn’t tear my gaze from it. In that moment, I understood with horrifying clarity that this wasn’t just a representation of Vorak’s faith—it was a glimpse into something vast and terrible, something that existed in direct opposition to life itself.
The statue didn’t just represent death. No, this was worse. It was un-life, anti-existence, a cosmic horror that sought not just to end life, but to unmake it entirely.
A cold sweat broke out across my skin, and I felt my heart racing. I forced myself to look away, fighting the urge to vomit. As I stumbled toward the door, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the statue’s eyeless gaze was following me, marking me.
“Something wrong, Kade?” Vorak’s silky voice carried a hint of amusement.
I didn’t trust myself to speak. I just shook my head and practically ran from the room, the image of that twisted statue burned into my mind.
As the doors hissed shut behind me, I leaned against the wall, trying to catch my breath. What the hell had I just seen? And what kind of monster worshipped something like that?
One thing was certain—I’d just gotten a glimpse of something I was never meant to see, something that went far beyond the Trials or even this alien world.
And I had a sinking feeling that that knowledge was going to come at a terrible price.