Sol perched himself on a metal overhang high above the lounge, well-hidden in the shifting neon lights reflecting off the cityscape. From up here, he had the perfect vantage point to watch the chaos unfold below.
Jack was still gasping for breath between fits of laughter, nearly doubled over as he slapped Lloyd on the back. "He ran! He actually ran away! This is the greatest thing I've ever witnessed!"
Lloyd exhaled, rubbing his temples. "I can't believe this. I can't believe he Houdini'd out of a conversation."
Veyna, arms crossed, scanned the walkway, golden eyes sharp with irritation. "Where did he go? That's not normal. People don't just vanish."
Lea let out an amused huff, glancing around with intrigue rather than frustration. "I don't know whether to be impressed or insulted. Was talking to me that bad?"
From his vantage point, Sol smirked and took a sip from the drink he'd swiped before disappearing. This had been the only reasonable course of action. It wasn't running. It was strategic withdrawal. A perfectly logical choice. No regrets whatsoever.
Except now they were actively looking for him.
Jack wiped away a tear of laughter and straightened up, finally catching his breath. "Alright, new game. First one to find Sol wins."
Lloyd shot him an unamused look. "Wins what?"
"Bragging rights. Eternal respect. My undying admiration." Jack grinned. "Or I guess we just get to make fun of him forever, which is the real prize."
Veyna rolled her shoulders, her gaze still sharp. "I will find him. And when I do, he's going to regret this."
Lea smirked, eyes flicking across the rooftops. "Now I'm curious. Let's see just how good he is."
Sol decided it was best to relocate.
Keeping his movements subtle, he shifted further into the shadows and maneuvered across a narrow walkway, his body blending seamlessly into the neon reflections dancing across the city. He had every intention of laying low until they either gave up or got distracted—
Until the platform beneath his feet suddenly shifted.
A soft mechanical hum filled the air, and before he could react, the metal beneath him gave way. Gravity tilted. The next thing he knew, he was falling—
And then he wasn't.
The world blinked, and Sol found himself somewhere completely different.
The lighting was low, rich blues and deep reds painting the interior of what looked like an exclusive lounge. The air was thick with the scent of something sweet and intoxicating, the low hum of alien jazz drifting through the space. Plush velvet seating lined the walls, occupied by well-dressed patrons, most of whom were now staring at him.
A four-armed alien seated at a circular table raised an eyebrow, their golden jewelry clinking as they set down their drink. "And you are?"
Sol blinked, straightening slowly. "That's a great question."
Another alien, a humanoid with sleek obsidian-black skin, tilted their head. "Did you just teleport into the VIP section?"
Sol glanced at the faint shimmer of residual energy around him. "…Something like that."
The bartender, a towering crystalline being, folded their arms. "You do realize this is an invite-only area, right?"
Before Sol could come up with some kind of response, a soft, amused chuckle echoed from the back of the lounge. The tension in the air shifted as a woman stepped forward from the shadows, her presence effortlessly commanding the room's attention.
She was stunning in an almost unreal way—tall, with flowing silver hair that shimmered like liquid metal, and deep violet eyes that seemed to glow faintly under the dim lights. Her fitted dress, woven with intricate golden embroidery, draped elegantly as she approached, each movement smooth and deliberate.
"Well," she purred, a smirk playing on her lips. "I've seen many things in this lounge, but I don't think I've ever witnessed someone run away from two pretty women quite so dramatically."
Sol sighed, already feeling the situation spiraling further out of his control. "I didn't run away. It was a strategic retreat."
She chuckled again, her gaze flicking over him with clear amusement. "Oh, I'm sure you did. But I can't decide if you're incredibly bold or just terribly unlucky. Either way…" She tilted her head. "You're intriguing."
The four-armed alien at the table exhaled, clearly recognizing her. "Looks like he's your problem now, Maris. Though, I have to say, I'd be careful with this one. He doesn't seem the type to sit still for long."
Maris, apparently the owner of this establishment, merely smiled. "He's not a problem. Just a surprise guest. Though, I have to say, I wasn't expecting you of all people to make such a dramatic entrance." She turned her attention back to Sol, her violet eyes glimmering with something unreadable. There was something in her gaze—an awareness, a flicker of recognition she was trying to hide. She knew exactly who he was, or at least, she knew something about him. "You can hide here if you'd like, but I imagine it won't take long before someone comes looking for you. And I'd hate for your little escape act to end so soon. But then again... someone like you is always on the run, aren't they?" She let the words hang, gauging his reaction.
Sol narrowed his eyes slightly, studying her just as intently. "You talk like you know me."
Maris smiled, taking another slow sip of her drink. "Perhaps I do. Or perhaps I just make it my business to know interesting people before they know me."
"Convenient," Sol murmured, crossing his arms. "So, do I get the usual VIP treatment, or is this where I get thrown out the back door?"
Maris laughed softly, shaking her head. "Oh, no. I wouldn't dream of kicking out such a rare guest. Besides… I think we can be mutually beneficial to each other."
Sol raised a brow. "That so?"
She leaned in slightly, resting an elbow on the bar. "You see, I run this place not just as a lounge, but as a hub of information. Deals are made here, secrets exchanged, and whispers from every corner of this ship pass through my ears. And you… you're someone who attracts noise, even when you're trying to be quiet. That makes you valuable."
Sol exhaled through his nose. "I try to keep a low profile."
Maris chuckled. "And yet here you are, teleporting into my lounge like a misplaced playing card." She tapped a nail against the rim of her glass. "So, let's make a deal. You lay low here for a while, enjoy the hospitality, and in return… I get to indulge my curiosity about you."
Sol frowned. "And if I say no?"
Maris smirked. "Then I suppose I let your little friends know where you are." She gestured vaguely towards the entrance, where Jack's voice could be faintly heard outside. "And from what I've gathered, one of them finds this entire situation hysterical."
Sol sighed. "That's blackmail."
"That's business," Maris corrected smoothly. "And don't worry—I'm not asking for your deepest, darkest secrets. Just a little conversation."
Sol weighed his options. He could slip away, sure, but not without drawing more attention. And if Maris really did have her pulse on the information network of this place, it might not be the worst idea to play along.
Finally, he sat down at the bar. "Alright. A drink, then. And we talk. But I'm not making promises."
Maris smiled, satisfied. "Oh, I never expect promises. I expect surprises."
The bartender slid a glass toward Sol, its contents shimmering under the dim light. Maris lifted her own. "To strategic retreats, then?"
Sol sighed, picking up his glass. "To making bad decisions."
Maris clinked her glass against his before taking a slow sip, watching him over the rim with that same unreadable curiosity. "So, tell me, Sol—how does a ghost from the lower districts end up causing such a scene on a high-class ship like this?"
Sol raised an eyebrow. "That sounds a lot like a question that breaks our little agreement."
She smirked. "I said I wouldn't ask for your deepest, darkest secrets. This? This is just small talk."
Sol exhaled, swirling the glowing liquid in his glass. "Let's just say I have a habit of being places I shouldn't be."
Maris chuckled. "Clearly. Though, I have to wonder if this 'habit' of yours is more intentional than you let on. People like you don't just stumble into places like mine by accident."
"I don't believe in accidents," Sol muttered before taking a sip.
Maris leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on her hand. "And yet you're here, hiding from people who, I assume, aren't exactly your enemies. You must have quite the talent for getting into trouble."
Sol scoffed. "It's a hard life being pretty."
Maris laughed softly. "Oh, I like you. You remind me of someone I used to know—sharp mind, quick reflexes, always looking for the next escape route. But tell me something, Sol. Do you ever stop running?"
Sol didn't answer immediately. He met her gaze, searching for what exactly she was playing at. There was a weight to her question, as if she wasn't just talking about his current situation. It was deeper than that.
"Running keeps me alive," he said finally.
Maris nodded slowly, as if she'd expected that answer. "And yet, here you are, sitting at my bar, drinking with me. Almost like you stopped, if only for a moment."
Sol tapped his fingers against his glass. "You trying to psychoanalyze me now?"
Maris smirked. "Not at all. Just making an observation. You intrigue me, Sol, and I have a feeling we'll be seeing more of each other."
She leaned against the bar, swirling the drink in her hand before taking a slow sip. "So, tell me, Sol, what do you do for fun? Or are you always running from something?"
Sol blinked. That wasn't the kind of question he usually got. "Fun? That's a rare thing where I come from."
Maris hummed thoughtfully. "I imagine so. But you're here now, in a place with more possibilities than just survival. So, tell me, if you had the freedom to do anything—no running, no hiding—what would it be?"
Sol hesitated, caught off guard by how casual yet oddly personal the question was. "I don't know," he admitted, taking a sip of his drink. "I've never had the luxury of thinking that far ahead."
Maris tilted her head. "Then think about it now."
Sol glanced at her, studying her expression. She wasn't prying the way others did—wasn't trying to dig for weaknesses or find leverage. She was genuinely curious.
He exhaled. "I guess... I want to go to school for now. Figure things out." He let the words settle, rolling his glass between his fingers. It was the first time he had actually said it out loud, and for a moment, it felt foreign on his tongue.
Maris lifted a brow, intrigued. "School, huh?" She paused, swirling the drink in her hand before giving him another long look. "Wait… how old are you, exactly?"
Sol smirked faintly, already anticipating the reaction. "Sixteen."
Maris, mid-sip, nearly choked. She recovered quickly, but her composure cracked just enough to reveal her genuine surprise. "Sixteen?" She repeated, as if making sure she heard correctly. "You're sixteen?"
Sol leaned back slightly, watching her reaction with mild amusement. "Why? Thought I was older?"
Maris blinked, then huffed a soft laugh, shaking her head. "You act older. And you carry yourself like someone who's lived through several lifetimes already. Sixteen, though… huh." She studied him again, but this time there was something different in her gaze—less intrigue, more curiosity laced with an unexpected hint of respect. "That explains a lot. And also makes everything I've heard about you a little more absurd."
Maris tapped a manicured nail against her glass. "That's refreshing. Most people your age talk big about making names for themselves, chasing power, or fortune. You? You just want knowledge."
"Power fades, fortune runs out." Sol leaned back slightly. "But knowing how to make something from nothing? That stays."
She studied him for a moment, then gave an approving nod. "You're interesting, Sol. More than I thought. And trust me, I already thought you were interesting."
Sol chuckled, shaking his head. "Glad I meet expectations."
Maris smiled, pleased. "You don't just want to survive, you want to create. That tells me more about you than any escape story could."
Sol huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "What about you? You've got this whole place—what's next for you?"
Maris chuckled. "You assume I want more. Maybe I'm already exactly where I want to be."
"You don't strike me as someone who settles," Sol countered.
Her violet eyes gleamed. "Fair point. But I enjoy the game. The people who come through here, the conversations, the stories. That's enough for now."
Sol nodded slowly. He found himself enjoying this exchange more than expected. No expectations, no ulterior motives—just talk.
Maris tapped her glass against his. "To unexpected conversations."
Sol smirked, tapping his glass in return. "To figuring things out... eventually."Sol exhaled, finishing his drink. "We'll see."
Before Maris could respond, a sudden burst of laughter echoed from outside the lounge entrance. Jack's voice, loud and unrelenting, cut through the air. "SOL, BUDDY, WHERE YOU HIDING? COME OUT, COME OUT, WHEREVER YOU ARE!"
Maris chuckled, tilting her head toward the door. "Your fan club is getting closer. What's your next move, ghost?"
Sol exhaled, weighing his options. He could try to slip away, but Jack was a persistent bastard. Veyna, even more so. And Lloyd? He was unpredictable—sometimes helping, sometimes instigating, and Sol wasn't about to risk which side he'd take this time.
Maris, as if sensing his thought process, leaned her elbow on the bar and smirked. "You could always stay. I don't mind keeping you hidden a little longer."
Sol gave her a side glance. "And what's in it for you?"
She feigned offense. "Must there always be a price? Maybe I just enjoy watching you struggle."
Before Sol could respond, a familiar voice boomed from the entrance.
"SOL, YOU MAGNIFICENT COWARD, WHERE ARE YOU HIDING?"
Sol sighed. "And there's my reason to leave."
Maris chuckled, eyes glinting with amusement. "Or a reason to stay."
Jack's voice rang through the lounge again. "We know you're in here! You've got nowhere left to run, buddy!"
Lea's voice followed, more amused than aggressive. "You might as well come out before Veyna loses her patience."
Sol tensed slightly. Veyna losing her patience was a legitimate problem. That woman did not like being ignored.
Maris, watching him closely, swirled the drink in her hand. "Tell you what, ghost. I'll give you two choices—vanish again and risk getting dragged out of here by your very loud companions, or let me handle it."
Sol arched a brow. "And how exactly do you plan on handling it?"
Maris smirked, tilting her head toward a passing server. "By being convincing."
The server, a tall, feline-featured woman, paused as Maris whispered something in her ear. Without hesitation, the server nodded and strode toward the entrance with the ease of someone who had done this sort of thing before.
Meanwhile, Sol edged back further into the shadows of the VIP lounge, watching as the server approached Jack and the others.
"Gentlemen," she greeted smoothly. "I'm afraid you're causing quite the disruption. This is a private establishment, and our guests value discretion."
Jack, ever the dramatic one, placed a hand over his chest as if wounded. "Discretion? Do I look like someone who values discretion?"
"No," Veyna deadpanned. "You look like someone who gets kicked out of places like this."
Jack shot her an unamused look before turning back to the server. "Look, we're just trying to find our lost lamb. He's about this tall, broody, has a bad habit of disappearing when things get interesting."
Lloyd snorted. "Don't forget 'smug when he thinks he's won.'"
The server remained unfazed. "I'm afraid I haven't seen anyone like that. Perhaps you should check elsewhere."
Veyna narrowed her eyes. "I don't buy that."
Jack sighed dramatically. "Look, lady, I appreciate the professionalism, but our dear friend Sol is an expert at avoiding problems. Unfortunately for him, we are the problem."
Back in the VIP section, Sol exhaled, rubbing his temples. "They're not going to leave."
Maris, still perfectly at ease, sipped her drink. "No, they're not. But that doesn't mean you have to make it easy for them."
Sol considered his options. He could try to slip away again, but at this point, Jack would just turn this whole place upside down. His best bet was to play along just long enough to throw them off.
Before he could act, Maris suddenly reached out, lightly placing a finger on his wrist. "Ah, ah," she murmured, amusement dancing in her eyes. "I said I'd handle it. You just sit tight and watch the show."
Sol narrowed his eyes. "You enjoy this way too much."
"Absolutely," she confirmed with zero shame.
Meanwhile, the server had returned to the entrance, where Jack was still spinning a very exaggerated tale of Sol's crimes against friendship.
"—and the audacity to teleport away mid-conversation! Do you know how rude that is?"
"Tragic," the server said, entirely unbothered.
Veyna was already scanning the room, clearly not buying a word of it. "Enough of this. He's here. I can feel it."
Jack threw up his hands. "Great, now she's got Sol-radar. We're doomed."
Lloyd finally stepped forward, glancing at the VIP section. His eyes narrowed slightly. "I'm just saying, if I were Sol, I'd be somewhere with a good view and an exit strategy."
Maris, still watching them like a spectator at an amusing play, suddenly smirked. She leaned toward Sol, voice barely above a whisper. "They're getting warmer. Time to pick—do you want to make a run for it, or do you want me to cause a little… distraction?"
Sol glanced at her, suspicious. "What kind of distraction?"
Maris's smirk widened. "The fun kind."
Before Sol could argue, she lifted a hand and snapped her fingers.
Immediately, the lights dimmed, the music shifted into a deeper, almost hypnotic rhythm, and the bar's servers—who were clearly more than just staff—began moving in unison, subtly repositioning furniture and patrons. The entire room's layout subtly changed, making the space feel different than it had moments ago.
Jack, Lloyd, and Veyna immediately tensed, their instincts kicking in.
"Okay," Jack muttered, eyes darting around. "I know that wasn't normal."
Lloyd exhaled. "She's covering for him."
Veyna's eyes glowed faintly as she scanned the crowd, but even she hesitated as the energy in the lounge shifted.
Meanwhile, Sol turned to Maris, unimpressed. "Really? You just rearranged the room?"
Maris smirked. "Subtle misdirection is an art, Sol. Your friends won't find you if they don't recognize where they are."
Sure enough, Jack was already looking slightly disoriented, muttering something about how the tables weren't in the same place as before.
Sol sighed. "Clever."
Maris clinked her glass against his. "I know. Now, drink up and enjoy your temporary victory. Because let's be honest—they're not giving up."