Confusion pulled at Elian’s features as the woman asked her question, voice clear and emotionless. He didn’t understand what his mother had to do with any of this. “I’m sorry, but what?” he sputtered. “Eleven years ago, when you were ten years old, your mother died in an explosion at the fabrication plant she was working. Are you aware that the explosion that killed you mother was not caused by malfunctioning equipment, but was instead a premeditated act?” Her eyes drilled into his as if scrutinizing every emotion. Elian stood up from his bed and tried to reply, but found that he didn’t know what to say. It wasn't anger or sadness stifling him, but a complete lack of understanding of the situation. Over the years, he had tried to make peace with his mother’s death. The lack of control and feelings of unfairness he had felt as a child had mostly been brushed away as he grew, but now he felt the hole in his heart start to reopen.

The woman was still staring at him intently, but a pen had appeared in her hand, and she was writing in the notepad without looking down. She was manipulating him, he realised. She was trying to draw a reaction from him, and they would bare his emotions on the stream for views. She had access to his past, to his whole life. He hated the thought, and started to turn away from the screen. She spoke as he turned “Don’t turn away Elian. I know they told you it was an accident, a malfunction. But I can tell you what really happened, if you’d like?” The words wrenched at him, causing Elian to freeze, his thoughts tumbling in his mind. This was his home, and this woman was dredging up his past, saying whatever she could to get him to react. He forced himself to turn, his interest in the interview completely gone. “Look, the accident at the plant was investigated by the Empire, and all projections confirmed that it could be only that - an accident. That is the fact.” He pointed an accusing finger at the image. “What you are doing here is honestly just fucked up. I’m done. This interview is over.” The woman just smiled, eyes softening as if genuinely concerned for him, but he knew she was still just trying to manipulate him. “Well, if thats what you want?” she said, as she started tapping the pen on the notepad. Tap, tap, tap. She sat like she was waiting for something, posture leaning slightly towards him. Tap, tap, tap. The sound rang hollow in his mind, its nonchalant nature grating crudely as his heart churned. “We can finish this here. I can leave and your application will be withdrawn. But, are you sure thats what you want, Elian?” Tap, tap, tap. He moved to answer, unsure yet resolved to end it, but she spoke over him. “I know why you applied, Elian. Your mother was taken from you, but you don’t have to lose your father. If you succeed in the application process, if you are able to enter the Reseed, your father will be given access to the best medical care in the system. I personally guarantee a positive medical outcome. And this is in addition to the credit allocation we give all successful applicants.”

A sense of injustice tightened within him as he examined the woman. This wasn't Elizabeth Anderson. It was merely an image on a screen, a puppet with one aim, manufacturing a compelling interview for views and financial gain. He stood, taking a moment to breathe. His heart urged him to leave, but the rational side acknowledged the opportunity. “First of all, fuck you. I’ll take your interview, but I will not let you do this to me. Leave my past out of this.” He exhaled, breath sticking in his throat, heart in his mouth. Another breath, and he felt the emotions churning inside of him still slightly. “Ok, fine. We can continue.” The tapping stopped, and its face lit up. “Excellent! Please do sit down again, Elian. I don’t like you towering over me like that.” He snorted, but the light in the room seemed to soften, as the tension lifted from the image of the woman in front of him. Elian reluctantly sat.

Though he still somewhat felt like simultaneously crying and shouting, Elian listened in silence as the image outlined the rest of the interview. “Now that we have established background, we can continue on with getting to know you,” it smiled at him as it spoke. “I’m going to present you with some scenarios. All you have to do is tell me what you would do in the given situation. You may ask two questions before providing your response.” His brow furrowed as he responded. “That’s it? After all that, I’m going to be put in some hypothetical situations where I have to tell you how I would act?” But, it just kept on smiling at him. “Yes.” He felt his fist clench, but he forced a breath out. He’d already reacted strongly to the image’s probing, he could control himself for the rest of… whatever this was. “Fine. Go on,” he waved his hand at it. It straightened slightly, and set it’s hands as if preparing to take notes “You are working in a mine off the third ring road on the dark side of Rodite. You are a surveyor, looking for rich veins of ore. Every vein you find nets you a 0.01% commission on the total value of the ore in that vein. The supports of the tunnel you are working in start to collapse, giving you 2 minutes to escape. There are 5 people in your group, everyone except you is badly injured, and can move only if assisted. You have just found the biggest ore vein in the history of Rodite, and you will not have another chance to claim it. You have access to any basic mining and surveying tools. What do you do?”

Stolen story; please report.

The question immediately struck him as unnecessarily asinine, but he resigned himself to playing along. He thought for a moment before asking, “How far is it to safety? How far would I have to make it up the tunnel to be out of danger?” It tapped the pen on the notebook once, “twenty meters.” “OK then. How long would it take to scan the ore vein?” Tap. “fifteen seconds.” Twenty meters wasn’t too much, he could probably evacuate the team in two minutes, and he may even have time to spare to scan the vein. “Well, I would drag the members of the team twenty meters up the tunnel. If there at least twenty-five seconds left after that is done, I’d scan the ore vein.” It jotted something down in the notepad, before looking to him again. “As you are evacuating the team, one of the members calls out to you. He tells you to scan the vein instead of saving him, and to take the commission to support his family. He says it is worth more than his life, and if you don’t do it he will not be able to forgive you. How do you act?” Elian just shook his head disdainfully at its words. “I’m not answering that.” It tutted, inclined it’s head to one side, and made a note in the book. It pushed on to the next question.

Elian hoped the other applicants were having more fun than him. So far, the image had presented him with numerous scenarios, and none had a clear solution. When he did answer, it had added a complication to the scenario, in an effort to push him to make a hard decision between poor choices. He answered each prompt succinctly, asking less questions as the interview proceeded, and stonewalled any attempt by the image to draw a morally gray answer from him. “You wake up in the middle of a field. In your left hand you are holding a bottle containing an unknown liquid. It’s light out, and the surface of the planet is livable. You are wearing a warsuit, but it’s reactor is almost out of fuel. There are mountains to the north, but otherwise the landscape contains no notable features. What do you do?” A warsuit was military tech that increased speed and durability, but again the question was just pointless. “How long will the warsuit remain operational if I run at full speed?” “Four hours.” “Whats in the bottle?” “Water.” “Of course it is… I choose a direction at random and start running.” “You come across a shuttle being guarded by one man. You receive a notification to your comms system that your squad is stuck behind enemy lines, and if they aren’t evacuated, they will be killed. The man guarding the ship won’t let you take it without the use of force what d…” He cut her off. “No.” “Hmph.”

The creativity of the image was surprising, leaving Elian wondering if it hadn’t taken some inspiration from real world stories. “In a magical land there are two wells. One of them holds water that grants immortality, the other holds water that grants future sight. The water from each well also holds a hidden curse. You may fill a bottle with the water from one well, granting one of the boons. Beside the well stands a figure, who may or may not have further knowledge on the water in the wells. What do you do?” This was the seventh scenario, and he didn’t bother to ask any questions. “I fill the bottle with water from the immortality well. Once I make it back to civilization, I sell the water.” “As you are filling the bottle, the figure by the well starts to speak. They tell you…” He cut it off. “I ignore the figure and leave.” The image made an annoyed sound.

After enduring several more scenarios, Elian's patience wore thin, but fortunately, relief came promptly. "Final scenario then," the image said. Tap, tap, tap. It scrutinized Elian, a growing unease settling in the room like a heavy fog. He tensed. "Now, picture your life as it is. Envision a scenario where a solution to your problem is handed to you. With a snap, your father is cured – no risks, no need for luck. It's effortlessly resolved." The intensity of the image's gaze quickened Elian's heartbeat, deepening the unsettling atmosphere. The silence lingered, then it continued, voice low. "Elian, what if I told you this situation isn't hypothetical? The moment is now." It held up it’s hand to eye level, fingers together as if ready to snap them. “I can make it happen. But there is a price.” Elian remained silent, afraid to speak or move. “What price are you willing to pay? You’ve stayed so true to your morals, I’ve honestly been impressed. But, are you able to be… flexible?” A cold feeling started to grow in the pit of his stomach.