Arkon

ARKON

T he door opened with a metallic screech, jolting me from my protective stance over Samira. Dr. Zhen’la’s imposing form filled the entrance, his mandibles clicking in what I interpreted as annoyance.

“Well, well,” he chittered, his multifaceted eyes scanning the scene before him. “It appears our little experiment didn’t quite go as planned.”

I growled, low and threatening. “If by ‘experiment’ you mean your pathetic attempt to control me, then no, it didn’t.”

Zhen’la’s antennae twitched. “Indeed. The mind-control drug still needs refinement for Vinduthi, apparently. A setback, but not insurmountable.”

His gaze shifted to Samira, who stood behind me, clad in the makeshift poncho I’d fashioned from the thin sheet. Her wild hair and the obvious signs of our recent intimacy didn’t escape Zhen’la’s notice.

“How... interesting,” he mused, mandibles spreading in what passed for a smile among his kind. “It seems you two have found a way to pass the time.”

I felt Samira stiffen behind me, her fingers digging into my arm. My protective instincts surged, and I stepped forward, placing myself more fully between her and Zhen’la.

“Enough games,” I snarled. “You can’t control me, and you won’t use Samira as a hostage. Let her go.”

Zhen’la’s laughter grated on my nerves, a harsh, clicking sound. “Oh, . You misunderstand. I don’t need to control you directly. Your... attachment to this human is control enough.”

My fists clenched. He was right, and we both knew it. I’d do anything to keep Samira safe, and that made her the perfect leverage against me.

“If that’s the case,” I said, forcing my voice to remain steady, “then you need to take better care of your leverage. Humans are frail. Samira needs proper living quarters, food, medical attention.”

Zhen’la’s head tilted, considering. “And why should I accommodate such requests?”

I met his gaze unflinchingly. “Because a dead hostage is useless. You want me to cooperate? Keep her healthy and unharmed.”

“, no,” Samira whispered behind me. “Don’t bargain with him.”

I reached back, squeezing her hand. “Trust me,” I murmured.

Zhen’la’s antennae waved, processing the situation. After a moment, he nodded. “Your logic is sound. Very well. The human will be moved somewhere more suitable for her needs. Under guard, of course.”

“I go with her,” I demanded.

“Absolutely not,” Zhen’la snapped. “You’ll remain here, where we can... continue our research.”

A growl rose in my throat, but Samira’s gentle touch on my arm held me back. Zhen’la gestured with one of his secondary arms, and two guards entered the cell.

“Take the human to the medical bay, then to guest quarters in sector 7,” he ordered. “Ensure she’s fed and cared for... but watched at all times.”

As the guards approached, I turned to Samira. “I’ll find you,” I promised, my voice quiet enough that only she could hear. “Stay strong.”

Her dark eyes met mine, filled with a mix of fear and determination. “I will,” she whispered. “Be careful.”

I pressed my forehead to hers for a brief moment before the guards pulled her away. As they led her out, Zhen’la’s chittering laugh filled the cell.

“How touching,” he mocked. “Rest assured, . As long as you cooperate, your precious human will remain safe. Resist, and... well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

With a final, menacing click of his mandibles, Zhen’la turned and left the cell, the door slamming shut behind him.

I stood alone in the silent cell, my hands clenching into fists. Samira was gone, but she was alive. For now, that had to be enough. I’d play along with Zhen’la’s game, but the moment an opportunity presented itself, I’d tear this entire facility apart to get her back.

I paced the cell, my muscles taut with frustration. Two days had passed, if the meals from the crude replicator were any indication. The isolation gnawed at me, but worse was the separation from Samira. Her absence left a void that threatened to consume me.

The cell door hissed open. Zhen’la’s stood tall, his mandibles clicking.

“, prepare yourself. It’s time to fight.”

I lunged forward, stopping inches from his face. “Where’s Samira? I need to see her.”

Zhen’la’s antennae twitched. “Patience, Vinduthi. You’ll see your precious human at the fighting pit.”

“No. Now.” I growled, my fists clenching.

“Such fire,” Zhen’la chittered. “Tell you what - win your fight, and I’ll grant you ten minutes alone with her.”

Hope and suspicion warred within me. “And if I refuse?”

Zhen’la reached into a pouch, withdrawing something that made freeze. He tossed it at my feet - a braid of dark hair. Samira’s hair.

“Then perhaps next time, it won’t be just hair,” he said, his mandibles spread in a grotesque grin.

I snatched up the braid, my hands shaking with rage. As I tied it around my wrist, I made a silent vow. I would play along for now, but Zhen’la would pay. Slowly. Painfully. For every moment of fear he’d caused Samira.

“Fine,” I snarled. “Let’s get this over with.”

Zhen’la gestured, and two guards entered, carrying what looked like a large, translucent egg. Before I could react, they shoved me inside. The material hardened instantly, trapping me in a cocoon-like prison.

Darkness enveloped me as I felt myself being moved. The egg tumbled and rolled, leaving me disoriented. A foul stench permeated the air - decay and something else, sickly sweet.

Suddenly, movement stopped and the egg cracked open. I stumbled out into a darkened room. Another cell?

A bright line split the darkness before me, the scent of blood and sweat all around.

I stepped through the massive gate with my guard up. A wall of sound hit me - the roar of a crowd, hungry for blood and violence. The stench of sweat and fear intensified, mixed with the metallic tang of spilled blood. My muscles tensed, ready for whatever awaited me beyond.

The darkness gave way to blinding light. I blinked, adjusting to the sudden change. As my vision cleared, I got my bearings straight. A vast arena stretched out, its sand-covered floor stained dark in places. Tiered seating rose up on all sides, packed with a writhing mass of spectators - a mix of species I’d never seen gathered in one place before.

Their thunderous cheers echoed off the high domed ceiling, reverberating through my body. I scanned the crowd, searching for Samira, but the sea of faces blurred together in a cacophony of color and movement.

Four enormous gates ringed the arena floor. I’d emerged from one; the other three remained ominously closed.

An amplified voice boomed overhead. “Ladies, gentlemen, and beings of all designations! Today, we have a special treat - a Vinduthi warrior in our humble pit, a new entrant to the league! Place your bets now, for who knows how long this specimen will last?”

The crowd roared. I scanned the sea of faces, searching desperately for one in particular.

“!”

My head snapped toward the sound. A row of private boxes circled near the arena floor. One at the end looked newly constructed and garishly decorated, a clear attempt to impress.

All of that was an afterthought, random data to be stored in my mind, analyzed later.

Because inside that box stood Samira.

She looked unharmed, though worry etched her features. Zhen’la loomed beside her, a possessive claw on her shoulder.

I raised my wrist, pressing Samira’s braid to my lips. Our eyes met across the distance, and I nodded, trying to convey strength I didn’t entirely feel. She managed a small, brave smile in return.

A piercing alarm split the air. The other three gates began to rise with a grinding of rusted gears.

From the darkness beyond, I heard snarls. Growls. The scraping of claws against metal.

Well. This would be interesting.

To my left, a massive, six-legged beast with razor-sharp spines covering its body and a maw full of serrated teeth. In the center, a writhing mass of tentacles, each tipped with a barbed hook. And to my right, a sleek, reptilian monster with acidic saliva dripping from its jaws.

I planted my feet, muscles coiled and ready. No weapons, no armor - just my skills and determination. As the beasts circled, sizing me up, I focused on my breathing. I’d faced worse odds. I had to survive. For Samira.