(Someplace Else)
"Master, your sister has summoned you."
The voice came from behind Maria—deep, feminine, perfectly modulated. A voice she had grown to recognize.
Maria did not turn immediately. She remained seated before the mirror, her posture composed, her spine straight, her hands resting lightly against the smooth surface of the vanity.
The dome was vast—an artificial world of corridors, chambers, and controlled skies stretching endlessly above Earth's atmosphere.
One would expect that, given its sheer enormity, her sister would have more pressing matters to attend to than interrupting her over something trivial.
Yet here she was.
Slowly, Maria lifted her gaze to the mirror.
Her reflection stared back at her: pale light blue skin unmarred by age, eyes sharp and luminous, silver-white hair cascading neatly down her back as she adjusted a single strand out of place. Through the reflective glass, she saw Elisa standing by the doorway.
Elisa—her only slave.
She had been explicitly instructed to guard the door. No interruptions. No messengers.
No exceptions.
"I thought I made myself clear," Maria said at last, her voice calm but edged with restraint.
"The only situation that warranted you entering was something urgent."
"Yes, Master," Elisa replied quickly. Her words stumbled over each other, rushed and uneven.
She kept her gaze lowered, her hands clasped tightly before her. "But the messenger insisted. They said you were required to present yourself immediately."
She hesitated, then added softly, "I… I believed that qualified as urgent."
Maria turned fully now, rising from her seat to face her. The fear was obvious. Elisa's shoulders trembled ever so slightly, her breathing shallow, her entire body rigid as though bracing for punishment.
Maria felt something twist in her chest.
It wasn't anger. Not truly.
It was pity.
Not just for Elisa—but for all of them. For the slaves. For humanity as a whole. For the countless worlds her clan had crushed beneath its advance.
She said nothing more. To speak further would only alert Elisa to thoughts Maria had learned never to voice aloud.
Instead, she walked past her.
Elisa reacted instantly, hurrying to open the door. Together, they stepped into one of the countless corridors of the Motherland—the name given to their colossal, dome-shaped space station hovering silently above Earth's atmosphere. Its walls gleamed with living metal, faint lines of light pulsing along their surfaces like veins beneath skin.
As Maria walked toward her elder sister's chamber, Elisa followed a respectful distance behind. With each step, Maria's thoughts unraveled.
She thought of her clan.
Of the things they had done to arrive at this point.
They called themselves apex organisms.
Perfect beings. Sentients blessed with eternity, power, and dominion over the Aura itself. And yet, no matter how often that truth was repeated, Maria could not stop her mind from returning to the devastation left in their wake.
Entire galaxies scarred.
Civilizations erased.
Lives dismissed as insignificant.
All of it justified in the name of a cause millions of years in the making.
The most painful truth was not the destruction—it was the silence demanded of her. To express sympathy for lesser species, to feel remorse for those deemed unworthy, was seen as weakness.
Betrayal.
And betrayal was punishable by death.
So Maria buried those thoughts deep within herself, locking them away behind discipline and obedience.
When one lived as long as she had, time lost meaning. Years blurred together, rendered insignificant. What mattered instead were sequences—milestones of conquest and transformation.
Her mind drifted back to the moment her clan discovered Earth.
She remembered the verdict passed upon its inhabitants: potentially viable.
She remembered watching the Aura Shower descend upon the planet, waves of cosmic energy pouring into human flesh. The Awakening that followed had been… horrifying.
Those too weak to withstand the Aura twisted into grotesque abominations—living failures, screaming remnants of what they once were.
The Rae Clan wasted no time harvesting those who survived.
Cultivation.
Selection.
Enslavement.
Maria slowed as she reached her destination.
Two towering doors marked the entrance to her sister's chamber. One of Gloria's personal slaves stood guard, motionless and silent. The moment Maria approached, the doors parted without hesitation.
She stepped inside.
The doors closed behind her, sealing Elisa outside.
Maria's gaze was immediately drawn to the massive bed dominating the center of the chamber. Silk sheets, dark and luxurious, were tangled and displaced. From within them came a voice she knew all too well.
Her sister's.
Despite not seeing Gloria's face, Maria could tell—by the tone alone—that she was thoroughly enjoying herself.
"Yes, Taylor… yes. Just like that."
The sound was exaggerated, unnatural, laced with indulgence.
"Faster. Don't stop."
Maria exhaled slowly.
As her eyes adjusted, she saw him.
A man's back—broad, muscular, carved with definition that spoke of both cultivation and rigorous training. Taylor's movements were steady and forceful as he pinned Gloria beneath him, her legs locked around his waist.
Gloria lifted her head at last, noticing Maria after what felt like eons.
Apparently, the opening and closing of the doors hadn't been enough to break her focus.
"Ah," Gloria said breathlessly. "There you are, Maria."
She smiled—a lazy, knowing smile—as Taylor continued moving inside her.
"Care to join us?"
That was enough to make Taylor pause. He turned his head, finally acknowledging Maria's presence. His expression was apologetic… but curious. Open.
Unashamed.
"I think I'll pass," Maria said, after a moment, steadying herself.
(PS: The Sentients are a group of very distinct people with questionable behaviors that would seem overboard to the average human. Be warned.)
Gloria laughed softly. "We'll share a man one day. It's tradition."
Her voice broke as Taylor resumed his rhythm.
"You summoned me," Maria said sharply.
Her patience was thinning.
"Oh—ah—that," Gloria replied. "Give us a few minutes."
"You can sit while you wait."
The minutes were anything but few.
Maria stood rigid as twenty-five minutes passed—minutes filled with high-pitched moans, sharp gasps, and the unmistakable sounds of flesh meeting flesh. Despite herself, despite the discomfort she clung to at first, Maria found her gaze drifting back again and again.
The chemistry between them was undeniable.
Intimate.
Raw.
And dangerous.
She hated the thoughts that crept in uninvited—the curiosity, the wondering.
What it would feel like. What it meant to surrender in such a way.
What it would feel like to finally have a man inside her.
A loud, unified cry finally ended it.
Taylor pulled away, stepping off the bed and dressing himself without urgency. Gloria wrapped the duvet around her body and sat upright, her expression relaxed and satisfied.
She studied Maria's face and smirked.
"You're dying to know why you're here."
Maria crossed her arms. "Then say it."
"It's time," Gloria said plainly. "You need to make your first shackling."
Maria froze.
Her irritation collapsed into shock—then confusion.
"But I already have a slave," she said. "Elisa—"
"Oh, please," Gloria interrupted. "That doesn't count. Father gave her to you. She's a gift, not a conquest."
"You need to descend to the planet and claim a proper slave warrior."
Taylor had seated himself on a nearby couch, watching quietly.
"What if I refuse?" Maria asked.
"This isn't optional," Gloria replied. "Do you honestly think you'll live eternity with a single slave?"
Maria turned to Taylor, desperation slipping through her composure. "Tell her. Please."
Taylor hesitated. His eyes flicked between Gloria's stern gaze and Maria's pleading one.
He sighed.
"I'm sorry, Maria," he said gently. "But as your uncle, I have to say, your sister is right."
"A war is coming," he added. "And you need to be ready."
Maria said nothing as Taylor avoided her disappointed gaze.
She didn't need to.
The answer had already been decided for her.
(PS: Told you! Questionable behaviors!!!)