A rhythmic beeping of my suit stirred me from my slumber, a reminder that my body remained locked within the confines of my suit. I could not move, only observe.

  My breathing was steady, controlled by the systems keeping me alive. My eyes adjusted to the dim, grey-washed chamber around me, a living nightmare of smooth yet irregular surfaces, an amalgamation of biological and inorganic material that pulsed faintly under unseen forces.

  They were still watching.

  The BCU guards stood in their usual positions, silent as ever, their six black orbs fixed on me with unreadable intent. They had never spoken. Never questioned me. Never left me alone.

  They maintained the integrity of my suit with mechanical precision, replacing air filters, replenishing my water supply, and providing me with emergency rations scavenged from the escape pods.

  Attempts to communicate had been met with absolute indifference. Words, gestures, and even the simplest forms of non-verbal expression were ignored. They treated me as if I did not exist beyond the function of maintaining my containment.

  But I was aware. More than that, I was counting.

  Out of thirty-one survivors, I had tracked the dwindling number by the screams that echoed through the walls. One by one, they were taken, their voices carving themselves into my mind before silence reclaimed them. There was no rescue. No negotiation. Only an inevitable fate drawing closer.

  I understood the capabilities of etheric users well and how they could unravel the minds of those not shielded by Nullite or genetically altered to resist intrusion.

  My suit, my body modifications they had preserved me thus far. But for how much longer?

  Then, today, the pattern changed.

  The screams came in numbers. Not one. Not two. Many.

  Panic surged through me. My fingers twitched against the interior of my suit, the only movement I could manage. I fought against my restraints and struggled against the dead weight of my confinement. The effort was futile, yet I could not stop. My suit tipped, sending me crashing onto my side.

  And then, I saw it.

  One of the BCU had stepped closer, its featureless face hovering over me. Its six obsidian-black eyes reflected nothing no emotion, no curiosity, no malice. Just absence.

  I do not know how long I stared into that void before the others moved. Without words, without hesitation, they righted my suit, positioning me as they had countless times before.

  Then, the chamber opened.

  A larger figure entered, emerging from the shifting grey mass as though the walls themselves had birthed it. It was different.

  It moved with the weight of authority, its four primary arms poised with deliberate control, while two smaller limbs rested against its chest.

  Its segmented shell bore deep crimson markings and etched patterns that carried a ritualistic significance beyond my understanding. Ten appendages, like flexible tendrils, shifted from its back, curling and uncurling in slow, controlled motions.

  Unlike the others, it did not simply observe. It studied.

  I felt the weight of its six eyes settle upon me, their scrutiny dissecting me layer by layer. Minutes passed in silence before it finally spoke.

  “Your suit is well protected. Your body is heavily modified. You must be of some importance.”

  The words, spoken in Ebteral, one of the three official languages of the Triumvirate, carried a distinct accent similar to those belonging to third-tier citizens.

  “I am many things,” it continued, pacing around me with unhurried confidence. “A builder, a researcher, an army, a jailer, an executioner.”

  The guards remained motionless, unaffected by its presence. This was no ordinary specimen. This was a mind behind the anomaly.

  I hesitated, but my curiosity won out. “There has been speculation within the science division regarding your origin. Are you natural-born, or were you created?” It stopped in front of me once more.

  “Unnatural,” It admitted. “My creators’ location is unknown, but if they still lived… I imagine they are dead by your hands.”

  I steadied my breath, staring into its six black eyes, searching for something—logic, malice, hesitation, anything that suggested it was more than just an extension of its purpose.

  “And what would you do if you were to win this war for the moon?” I asked, my voice measured.

  The creature tilted its head slightly, its expression unreadable.

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  “I would expand,” it answered, its tone flat, unshaken. “Like all biological organisms. I would eliminate the threats that hinder my growth.”

  There was no anger in its words. No arrogance. Just the cold certainty of a natural order it believed itself a part of.

  I swallowed, pressing forward. “And if you were to leave this system? If nothing stopped you, what plans would you have for the rest of the galaxy?”

  I had to know.

  Was this simply a mindless weapon, continuing its primary function? Or was it something more? Something capable of planning beyond instinct and war?

  The response came without hesitation.

  “Eliminating your species and colonizing the surrounding systems.”

  I forced my breathing to remain steady, pushing past the gnawing dread in my gut.

  “Then tell me,” I continued, “what may the Triumvirate offer to end that decision? Even you must have needs desires that must be met.”

  A long silence stretched between us.

  Then, a slow, deliberate shift in its posture. “You speak as if your words hold the weight of your entire species.”

  “I am capable of negotiating on behalf of the Triumvirate,” I said my voice firm. “I have studied and practised galactic law. I understand the frameworks of conflict resolution. I can broker terms that satisfy both parties.”

  The creature’s tendrils flexed slightly, and for the first time, it made a sound a deep, guttural exhalation that might have been amusement.

  “Even at the furthest edges of the galaxy, even in a new reality, I cannot escape meeting a lawyer.”

  I frowned. My mind latched onto a single word.

  “New reality?” I repeated my pulse quickening. “What do you mean? What are you talking about?”

  A pause. Then, it spoke again.

  “Nothing of concern.”

  The dismissiveness in its tone sent a ripple of unease through me. Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, it gestured toward the wall.

  The grey surface split apart.

  A group of BCU creatures entered, carrying something a grotesque organism, unlike anything I had seen before. Its fleshy, semi-transparent surface was divided into two distinct halves, one side filled with a thick, murky liquid, the other with something eerily clear.

  My stomach twisted.

  The entity regarded me with calm detachment. “When I first discovered your species was aquatic in origin, it inspired a breakthrough in information extraction.”

  The grotesque mass quivered, and suddenly, the guards moved.

  Hands wrenched at my suit, tearing me free from its confines. I barely had time to protest before they dragged me forward, toward the shifting, open maw of the organism.

  “Wait—wait!” I gasped, thrashing, my limbs burning as my body, unaccustomed to true movement after so long, refused to respond.

  The walls of the organism peeled apart, revealing a pulsing interior of shifting tendrils and pulsating nodes. I kicked, and struggled, but they were too strong.

  They forced me inside.

  The organic walls closed around me, sealing me into the pulsing, wet interior. My body was held tight, crushed by unseen forces. Sharp pain lanced through my body as tendrils burrowed against my skin, attaching themselves deep into my nervous system.

  I screamed.

  “Wait—tell me!” I gasped, my mind spiralling into sheer panic. “There is nothing I can offer? Nothing to bargain for my safety? Nothing that would grant me a swift death?”

  Through the pulsing walls, I saw its dark silhouette. Unmoving. Watching.

  “Your life was already mine to do with as I pleased,” it said, as if I were a curiosity a specimen rather than a thinking being. “This was the most optimal outcome.”

  The liquid began to rise.

  At first, it felt like water, cool against my skin. Then something else invaded me.

  I felt it.

  A presence.

  Something burrowing, shifting, not into my flesh, but into my mind.

  Memories surfaced memories I hadn’t called upon. Random thoughts. Images. Pieces of my past, torn from the depths of my consciousness, pulled up against my will.

  My mouth opened in a silent scream

  ———

  Of all the calculations I had made, of all the possibilities I had accounted for, never had I anticipated encountering a lawyer so soon.

  It was an absurdity that defied even my most intricate predictions a reminder that the universe was bound by no logic, no certainty, only the cruel randomness of existence.

  If a lawyer could emerge in the heart of war, then truly, anything was possible.