For the first time since he got here, the doors to his cell opened. All he saw was a thick, impenetrable darkness. It revealed nothing of where he was, and since the only light ever came from above, he may as well have been blind. After looking around his cell, he saw none of the previous vulnerabilities that had made it easy for him to escape in the past. Unlike my previous hosts, these leave nothing to chance.

  Heavy footfalls got him to stand up at least, and from the darkness emerged a familiar forlorn face. Once inside the cell, the doors slammed shut, and he ne’er glanced back over his shoulder. The Chief’s shoulders sagged but for a moment as Young ran over to the man and gripped him in a strong embrace. He was more relieved that he wouldn’t be alone for whatever came next. The Chief barely reacted, and upon stepping back, Young saw the man was deep in thought.

  “Chief?”

  “Hunter. I’m just glad you’re alive, after all you’ve been through.”

  “I was close to being free until they showed up.”

  “The Blue ones, yes. They are not as fragile as the Greys. They wield metal men capable of things I’ve never even seen before.”

  “What happened while I was gone?”

  “We prepared to defend ourselves, but they swiftly outnumbered us and gave us a simple deal. Surrender and the strong will live while the weak perish. I watched them slaughter many in our tribe, including your father.”

  Young clenched his fists. “How many survived?”

  “A handful of us; the rest are likely elsewhere. They injected something into me that took away my eyes, then gave them back once I got here.”

  Young found himself pacing and thinking. “I guess I left a lasting impression then. When I was captured, the Greys were lax in their security. It’s how I escaped. I doubt we’ll be so lucky since these Blues are more than a match for us.”

  “We’ll just have to be patient, son.”

  “We just have to win,” Young said, turning to face the older, grey-haired man.

  “Win?”

  “A Grey I was talking to said the Blues like to prepare those they’ve captured for participation in some games. I imagine these games are fights to the death. He said the winner walks free.”

  Now the Chief began pacing and made a gesture that looked like he was strangling something. “If you saw what they did and how they did it, freedom wouldn’t be enough. I want to do to them what they did to our people. Reduce them to a foul-smelling sludge and give them an undignified death. They will regret making us their slaves. Can I count on you?”

  “Always -” Before Young could speak further, the cell door opened once more. This time they were joined by a cone-headed Blue flanked by two automaton guards. It made gestures to Young and the metal men advanced on him.

  “I’ll anticipate your return, son.”

  Young nodded. Resistance would be futile. They needed to get an idea of the scale of all this and by playing along; it meant both of them and their people would survive that much longer. The powerful grips of the metal men held his wrists tight and before he could comply with their wishes, they began walking at such a pace that he had no choice but to be dragged across the floor into the pitch-black chamber. In the darkness, he could just make out the other cells with their own beams of light coming from above. Just how many of us did they capture?

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  They dragged him forward until they reached a set of large double doors. From behind, he felt something sting the back of his neck. That damn temporary blindness.

  Other than the mechanical march of the metal men, he heard nothing and could barely focus due to being forcibly manhandled still. His arms burned, but he knew better than to beg. Something told him such an act would make them do worse. He had to endure this treatment, as his Chief said. They had to be patient. Their time would come not now, but long in the future. We have endured much before this and we will do so again.

  Another stop surprised him. The Blue alien began talking in much the same manner as the Greys. He couldn’t discern any meaning from their words, but the other speaker sounded familiar somehow. Mokvel. The Grey that got him into this mess hadn’t left him alone since they came aboard this new ship and despite what had happened aboard the Grey alien ship, Young almost wanted to entertain the possibility of Mokvel being an ally. He didn’t need to know their language to understand there was a stark power imbalance between both groups and it was clear to him at the very least that the Blues saw the Greys as an inferior group, no doubt due to their size and lack of physical prowess. Even with their weapons, they had been easy pickings for him. He wondered if the Blues treat all captives like this, or if different methods were reserved for different threat types. Silence soon returned and other than the mechanical joints clicking and his feet scrambling behind him, he could only guess at where they were taking him. He doubted they would execute him. If they wanted that, then they should have killed me long ago, no if it’s as Mokvel said. Then could this be I’m being taken to be tested? His mind raced with possibilities until they stopped again. An injection later and his sight returned. The door he knelt in front of slid open and he was thrust inside. The light was dim here too, and he only had recessed lights to guide him to where they wanted him to go. A few seconds and a left turn later, he stumbled into what seemed to be another cell. Except this one reminded him of the one he had been in while on the Grey ship. Since, right in front of him was a window into an observation room and therein stood two Blues flanking one diminutive familiar Grey. Mokvel.

  Young stepped into the centre of the room and stared at his captors, trying to gauge anything, but they remained stone faced, chatting among themselves like he wasn’t even there. Finally, one of them pressed something and what happened next surprised him. A thick, bulbous cloud of gas filled his room and soon reached his bare legs. The burning sensation in his knees made him tense. His real mistake, though, was inhaling it. It made his lungs ache and his throat sore. He found himself uncontrollably spluttering and stumbling backwards. Not one to be so easily subdued, he rushed to the only place that might get him out of this place. The window. He did not care if they had it reinforced. He had few options left and without any hesitation. He put what remaining strength he had into punching the glass. The first two punches did more harm to him, but the third managed to make him smile even if his whole body cried out in agony. That solitary crack was progress. A few more punches later and his strength sagged, drained by whatever he had inhaled. His vision had also clouded and before he collapsed, he saw what looked like Mokvel pushing a button of his own. That did the trick because as quickly as the toxin flooded the room. It was all sucked away. Young placed his back on the small crack he made and slid to the floor, gasping for precious air. His insides burned, but that would pass. He knew that they would put him through it, not for killing, but rather for seeing what he could endure. He also knew the Blues likely had far worse in store for him. He found himself laughing as he pulled himself back together and stood defiantly. He gestured to them, extending his middle finger.

  “Is that it? What else have you got!”