THE HUNTERS’ LEADER
Remy ran.
Hope ran beside her, its small hand in hers, its translucent feet barely touching the ground. The cavern was collapsing — the crystals falling from the walls, the ceiling cracking, the heart’s chains snapping one by one.
The tunnel was ahead. The stone door.
She reached it.
Pushed it open.
Juno was waiting on the other side.
Her face was pale. Her eyes were wide.
“Remy. What is that?”
“Hope.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one I have.”
Juno stared at the child. The child stared back.
“You’re Juno,” Hope said. “Remy’s friend. The one who fights.”
Juno’s mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.
“We need to go,” Remy said. “The cavern is collapsing. The Devourer is gone. The Warden—”
“The Warden is still there. Still hungry. Still hunting.” The voice came from behind them.
They turned.
Cassian stood in the tunnel.
But he was not Cassian. Not anymore. His body was the same — tall, lean, familiar — but his eyes were molten gold, and his skin was cracked like old pottery, with light seeping through the fissures.
“You destroyed my other half. My hunger. My need. But I am still here. Still the Warden. Still the keeper of the prison.”
“The prison is empty,” Remy said. “The prisoners are gone. Their memories are free. There’s nothing left for you to guard.”
“There is you. You carry the weapon. The weapon contains their hope. Their hope is the only thing that can truly destroy me. I must consume it. Consume you.”
He stepped forward.
Juno raised her weapon.
“Don’t,” Remy said.
“Remy—”
“He’s not Cassian. Not anymore. Killing him won’t hurt the Warden. It will only hurt the memory of the man I loved.”
“You loved me?”
The voice was different. Softer. Almost human.
Remy looked at Cassian’s face. At the golden eyes. At the cracked skin.
“I loved the man who taught me how to survive. The man who held me when I cried. The man who told me stories about my mother. Even if they were lies. Even if it was all a trap. I loved him.”
“That man is gone.”
“Then let me mourn him. And let me stop you.”
She raised her hands.
The golden light returned.
“You cannot use the weapon on me. I am not the Devourer. I am not hungry. I am simply… tired.”
“Then let go. Surrender. Cease to be.”
“I do not know how.”
Remy stepped closer. Hope’s hand tightened in hers.
“I’ll show you.”
She touched his face.
The light flowed from her hands into his cracked skin, filling the fissures, softening the edges. His golden eyes flickered. Dimmed. Became something else.
Brown. Human. Tired.
“Remy,” Cassian whispered. His voice was his own.
“Dad.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“I know.”
“I couldn’t fight it. The Warden was too strong. It had been inside me for so long. I didn’t know where I ended and it began.”
“It’s over now.”
“Is it?”
She looked at the light fading from his skin. At the cracks healing. At the gold in his eyes turning to brown.
“You’re free.”
He smiled. It was a weak smile. A tired smile.
“Thank you.”
He closed his eyes.
His body slumped.
Juno caught him before he hit the ground.
“Is he—”
“Asleep. The Warden is gone. He’s just a man now.”
“A man who tried to kill us.”
“A man who was possessed by an ancient alien consciousness that had been feeding on prisoners for ten thousand years. I think we can give him a second chance.”
Juno looked at Cassian’s face. At the peaceful expression.
“Fine. But he’s carrying his own weapons.”
Remy almost laughed.
They walked out of the tunnel.
THE OLIGARCH’S SECRET
The Memory Den was in ruins.
The walls had been breached. The extraction booths were shattered. The neon signs lay broken on the floor, their light extinguished.
But the survivors were still there.
A dozen of them, huddled behind the bar, their weapons raised. They had fought off the hunters — for now.
Juno ran to them.
“Report.”
“We held them off,” a woman said. “But they’ll be back. There are too many.”
“How many?”
“Dozens. Maybe more. They’re coming from the Spire. The Oligarch’s palace.”
Remy looked at Hope. The child was watching the destruction with wide eyes.
“The Oligarch is not the master,” Hope said. “He is a puppet. The true master is the one who has been controlling the hunters from the beginning.”
“Who?”
“Someone you know. Someone you trust. Someone who has been standing beside you this whole time.”
Remy’s blood ran cold.
She turned.
Juno was still talking to the survivors. Her back was to Remy.
“What are you saying?”
“The fragment in Juno’s head. It was not dormant. It was never dormant. It has been awake for years. Feeding her information. Guiding her actions. Shaping her into what it needed her to be.”
“Juno is the Oligarch?”
“Juno is the vessel. The Oligarch is the consciousness that has been riding her since childhood. The same way the Warden rode Cassian.”
Remy’s hands shook.
“No.”
“Look at her. Really look.”
Remy looked.
Juno’s movements were too smooth. Her voice was too calm. Her eyes — her eyes were the same as always. Dark. Sharp. Familiar.
But something was different.
Something had always been different.
“Juno.”
Juno turned.
“Yeah?”
“How long?”
Juno’s expression didn’t change.
“How long what?”
“How long have you been the Oligarch?”
The room went silent.
Juno stared at her.
Then she smiled.
It was not Juno’s smile.
“Long enough,” she said. Her voice was layered, echoing, ancient. “Long enough to watch you grow. Long enough to guide you. Long enough to bring you here.”
“You’ve been using me.”
“I have been preparing you. For this moment. For the weapon. For the choice.”
“What choice?”
“Join me. Rule Mars at my side. Use the weapon to control the Devourer, not destroy it. We could be gods, Remy. Gods of memory. Gods of the mind.”
“I don’t want to be a god.”
“Then die. And I will find another vessel.”
Juno raised her hand.
The hunters raised their weapons.
Remy raised hers.
Hope stepped between them.
“Stop.”
The child’s voice was small. But it carried.
“This is not the way. Violence will only feed the hunger. The Devourer is gone. The Warden is sleeping. The war is over.”
“The war is never over,” the Oligarch said. “There is always another hunger. Another need. Another fight.”
“Then break the cycle. Choose peace. Choose hope. Choose her.”
The Oligarch looked at Remy. At the golden light still flickering in her eyes.
“I cannot.”
“Then I’m sorry,” Remy said.
She raised her hands.
The golden light exploded.