Darkness filled almost every corner of the room he entered. Sapping, dripping like oil. Moving like it had a life of its own. Humanoid figures in the shadows stood still, observing his every move, unnerving. And there she was sitting comfortably in a lonely chair by the window panel that opened on the grey deserts and stars themselves.

"My, my, my... look what time it is. The day before the full cycle. Interesting to think we still follow this ancient, nonsense rule." Madas's voice filled the cold shadows of the lunar spaceport. What was left of it. The dim light from outside shone in only so slightly. This whole place was a crumbling ruin. It wasn't apparent at first, but the more his eyes got used to the darkness, the more he could see. Space preserved everything. He remembers being here when it was still full of people, now it was quiet. Breathtaking. Dead and dark.

Dimos felt his insides twist in disgust as he observed how she performed her theatrics. Sick woman.

"What do you want, sister?" Dimos made sure to underline the last word.

He saw her twitch and turn around.

"Oh, I do love those little family delusions of ours we somehow need to discuss every single time. You think I'm mad, but then you believe I'm your step-sister or – a mutation from a different dimension, that our mother ran away with a space pirate and our father is the first Eternal King." She recalled, tapping her lower lip with her fingers. "I think at least one of all these needs to be true. But which one? Which one?"

Dimos let out a hysterical laugh. She turned around to look at him; her beautiful face showed slight amusement with the reaction but the eyes never changed, always cold and scheming.

"What do you want, Maddie?" That nickname was always a tongue-in-the-cheek for her. "Has the hunter finally found you? I heard a story or two about a madman setting bombs in places he shouldn't."

Without a reply, the woman got up, strolled in front of the windows, her behaviour, like she held some unknown truth, unlimited power. Like the god of death himself was her puppet.

Then her voice reached him from the shadows where she stood.

"When we were children, you promised me you would always protect me from him."

Dimos listened but didn't respond; he didn't know what he should say at all. Stalling, he looked around, trying to pierce the veil of darkness. He had no idea how she managed to get all of this working again, how the life support managed to pump the air here. And there was the question of her guards. He had seen a talos before, a combination of man and machine, but these things gave him the creeps.

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But she was aware of all that. It was amusing indeed, to see him out of his environment.

"A family should always protect each other, and you promised!" Her voice was now lower, more intimate and pressuring.

"He is dead and you know it. You saw me kill him." Dimos hesitated.

"I need to be sure. The dead have an odd tendency of coming back from the shores of the black river. I have a job for you. Something special." A poisonous smile enveloped her face when she left the shadow.

"That's what you always say."

"Oh, be excited for once!" She swayed, still walking around, unable to stay in one place for longer than a few seconds.

"Paint me excited then." Dimos answered coldly. But Madasa ignored his sarcasm deep in thought.

"This job comes from Him, not from me. But, there are things I need you to ensure will happen." He laughed again when she said that, this time he was amused.

"Oh, so the great king finally wants something to be done for him? What is it this time? Find another girl?"

Madasa still circled, performing a strange dance of twitches, sharp movements like a stone statue brought to life.

"It's a man." She said finally. "He has taken something away from the shadow and he wants it back. Supposedly it's an object of great power." The woman spoke as if nothing had happened.

"I'll make sure he is dead by the end of the day" He started following her with his eyes wherever she moved. Feeling more and more uncomfortable. She was crazy before, but Dimos felt like she was descending into insanity.

"No. Not this time."

"That may be a problem."

"The king wants the man and the object. He wants a new body. And I have a reason to believe he is travelling with an oracle." Madasa pursed her lips innocently. She finally stopped moving, returned to her chair, and sat in it.

"Aren't they all supposed to be dead?"

"Seems not all."

"And what if she is one?" Dimos leaned forward with a question.

Then he noticed Madasa standing up, still holding a shadow of a smile, but her eyes were raging like a madwoman.

"If she is an oracle, then I'll finally be able to go home" Madasa put one of her hands on his arm. "And I'll need a few more batteries for that. Make sure it happens."

"Your resources are wearing thin. You can't keep talking without making it obvious."

Madasa was silent. Her eyes staring at a distant point, her fingers picking her nails in a mute nervous ritual. Finally, she pursed her lips.

"Then we will make it obvious."

"You don't have enough resources for open conflict." His voice taunted her mercilessly, he didn't need to show any signs of physical providence. It was all in the mind of those he had to deal with. Learned through many years of experience.

"You are right." Finally, she responded, almost like she woke up from a dream. One that gave her an answer. "You are right, my darling brother. But some do."

A door behind him opened with a hiss signalling it's time to leave.

"You have your work. Make sure everything happens. You won't be alone; I will provide you with any support I can."

Dimos nodded stiffly and turned around to walk out, but her voice pierced the air.

"The oracle. She is to be unharmed. Do you understand?"

"How are you planning to reach her?"

Madasa sat slowly down on her chair, delving back into the shadow. Slowly enveloped her beautiful face with her hands and responded.

"I will let the siren call out to her." Madasa whispered. He left her mind as she approached the dirty window panel, hungrily looking at the bright object cutting its way in a dazzling brilliance around the sun.