5. Violet

The once dimly lit room had been awash with an ethereal violet light, emanating from the depths of Kuana's eyes.

Every fiber of my being screamed that this was wrong.

So very wrong.

Kuana's eyes had always been a deep, captivating shade of gold, but the brilliant violet that now consumed his gaze was unnatural, terrifying.

For a moment, I was paralyzed, ensnared by both the mesmerizing and unnerving glow.

That terror — cold, creeping, and unforgiving — washed over me, instantly dragging me back to another time.

A time when my heart was ripped apart by the mere thought that I had lost Kuana forever.

Flashes of that day bombarded my senses.

I remember the static-filled communication line, the deep, somber voice on the other end relaying the heart-shattering news of the facility Kuana had been tasked with infiltrating had been destroyed.

The desperation and disbelief that took root deep within, refusing to let me accept Kuana's apparent demise.

Tears pooled in my eyes, threatening to spill over.

But amidst that tidal wave of emotion, I couldn't help but think back to earlier — before this chaotic moment.

When Kuana and I had lost ourselves in each other, reconnecting in the most intimate way possible.

I had felt pure, unbridled joy then, our two souls intertwined once more.

But even amidst that ecstasy, there was a moment, a split second when I saw that faint, violet glow flicker within Kuana's eyes.

Just as quickly, it had vanished, overshadowed by the overwhelming emotions we shared.

But now, as I stared into those same eyes, ablaze with that haunting light, a chilling realization settled in my heart.

Was this the secret Kuana so desperately tried to keep from me?

But my immediate concern was the Tok before me, battling a storm of emotions I could scarcely comprehend.

I needed to reach him, to bring him back from the edge.

"Kuana," I whispered, inching closer, my voice laced with both fear and desperation. "Please, come back to me."

It felt like hours, but slowly, the tempest within him subsided.

The glow from his eyes dimmed, returning to their familiar gold, though now tinged with pain and regret.

He collapsed, his energy spent, and I rushed to his side, cradling his head in my lap.

The weight of our shared past, combined with the present challenges, pressed down on me.

I wanted to scream, to shout at him, demand answers.

Why did he not confide in me?

Why did he think he could shoulder this burden alone?

But looking down at him, vulnerable and broken, my anger melted away, replaced by a wellspring of compassion and concern.

How could I be upset when the Tok I loved was in such torment?

"I'm so sorry, Vi," he murmured, his voice strained. "I never wanted you to see me like this."

"We've been through so much, Kuana," I whispered back, my fingers brushing away the damp locks from his forehead. "There's nothing we can't face together."

But even as I said it, doubt gnawed at the edges of my conviction.

This wasn't the Tok I knew, or at least, not entirely.

This version of Kuana held dark secrets, ones that cast shadows even in the brightest moments of our reunion.

As the weight of it all threatened to consume me, a single thought echoed repeatedly in my mind:

We had made love countless times in the past, yet I had never seen that before.

* * *

The dim lightof the prison cell threw shifting shadows on the walls, the sparse illumination only serving to enhance the intense atmosphere between Kuana and me.

I felt like I was on the edge of a precipice, about to tumble into the vast unknown.

There was an urgency in the air, as if the room itself awaited the answers to questions that had long been buried.

"Why, Kuana?" My voice quivered, barely louder than a whisper. "Why did you run? Why didn't you at least let me know that you were alive? Was it because… because you didn't love me anymore?"

The hurt, laced with desperation, in my voice seemed to slice through him.

He looked taken aback, his violet eyes shimmering with an intensity that I hadn't seen in a long time.

"I could never do that," he breathed out, his voice cracking slightly. "I could never stop loving you, Vi. I hope you know that."

I swallowed hard, struggling to keep the tears at bay. "Then why? Why disappear? Why let me mourn you, think you were gone forever?"

He took a deep breath, and for a moment, it seemed as though the weight of a thousand stars pressed down on his shoulders. "Because it was safer for you that way."

I stared at him, trying to decipher the meaning behind his words. "What do you mean?"

"You remember how I used to be, Vi," he began slowly. "I was… hard, fierce. A force to be reckoned with. There wasn't a prisoner here who wouldn't tremble at my gaze. I could dominate, intimidate, rule." He let out a long, weary sigh. "But that was a part of me that I had hoped you'd never have to see."

"You were the strongest person I knew," I countered. "You could face any challenge head-on. The Kuana I knew wasn't afraid of anything. The Kuana I loved could stare down any adversary and emerge victorious."

He closed his eyes, as if trying to ward off painful memories. "That's the problem, Violet. The jungle colony moon, the mission… it changed me. What I saw, what I discovered, it wasn't just about knowledge or espionage. It was about facing the darkest parts of myself."

He opened his eyes, and the vulnerability I saw in them was heart-wrenching. "The part of me that could dominate, that could instill fear — I had to summon it, channel it, in ways that I never had before. And I hated it. I despised what I was capable of."

My heart ached for him.

I reached out, touching his cheek.

The sensation of his scales under my fingers was both familiar and foreign. "Kuana," I murmured, "you faced your demons. But why not come back to me? Why not let me help you heal?"

"Because I feared," he admitted, his voice barely audible. "Feared that I might hurt you. That the darkness in me might consume the love we had. That in trying to protect you, I might end up being the one from whom you needed protection."

A tear slid down my cheek, and I pulled him into a tight embrace. "I've always believed in you, Kuana. In us. And I still do."

He held me close, his breathing ragged. "Every day, every moment I spent away from you, I was tormented by my choices. But I hoped it was for the best."

We stayed like that for a while, taking solace in each other's presence.

A myriad of emotions coursed through me — anger, pain, relief, love — but above all, understanding.

Finally, pulling back slightly to look into his eyes, I asked softly"

"Do you really believe that you can't face the world outside? That you can't be with me?"

He looked deep into my eyes, searching for something, before answering. "The fierce, dominant part of me, the part that once ruled this prison, it's still there, Vi. Deep inside."

I nodded, understanding the depth of his confession, the gravity of his fears. "And?"

He sighed, a hint of sadness clouding his eyes. "I hope," he whispered, "that I never have to see that part of myself ever again."

The weight of his words hung heavily between us, but in that moment, I made a silent vow to myself.

I would stand by Kuana, no matter the cost, and together we would find a way to heal, to move forward, and to reclaim the love we once shared.

* * *

For hours,we lay in relative silence, the only sounds being the rhythmic hum of the prison's ventilation system and the soft beating of our hearts in close proximity.

The dim light from the cell's single window created dappled patterns on Kuana's scales, shimmering as if they reflected faint starlight.

I traced patterns over his scales, feeling the minute ridges and valleys.

They were tough, a product of his lineage, offering a natural resistance to plasma.

It made him a rarity, a unique asset.

And that's precisely why he was chosen for that fateful mission to the jungle colony moon's research facility.

"What did you see, Kuana?" I whispered, my voice barely above the hum around us.

He didn't answer immediately, instead shifting uncomfortably beneath my touch.

Theories raced through my mind.

If weapons manufacturers were after what he'd seen or discovered, it had to be ground-breaking.

Something revolutionary.

Something that could tip the scales in the galaxy's constant dance of power and conquest.

But what could be so transformative that Kuana would willingly imprison himself, far away from the universe?

And from me?

Memories of our time together before his mission flashed through my mind — stolen moments between assignments, shared dreams of a future in a quiet corner of the galaxy, and promises of undying love.

And here we were, in a cold cell on Ikmal, worlds away from those dreams.

As my thoughts raced, doubt began to creep in.

When I arrived at this dreaded prison, part of me was ready to face the bitter pain of mistaken identity.

To look into the eyes of another and realize that my Kuana was truly gone.

I had mentally prepared myself for the despair, the agony.

But this?

His refusal to leave?

It was a curveball that my heart was wholly unprepared for.

"Vi," Kuana's voice interrupted my spiraling thoughts, a hint of weariness in his tone. "It's not that I don't want to be with you. It's just… the galaxy isn't safe for me. And if the secret I hold falls into the wrong hands, it won't be safe for anyone."

I shifted to look directly into his eyes, searching for any sign of deception.

But all I saw was sincerity, pain, and a deep-seated fear.

My heart clenched, realizing that he genuinely believed that staying in this godforsaken place was the best option.

Not just for his safety, but for the safety of countless others.

Kuana turned onto his side, facing me. "If the weapons manufacturers get what's in my head, Vi, they'll have unparalleled power. They'll sweep away their enemies effortlessly. I… I can't let that happen."

His words painted a terrifying picture, but it was his eyes — filled with a resolve I had seen only a few times before — that convinced me of the gravity of his situation.

And yet, my heart refused to accept this as our fate.

The spark of rebellion, of determination, burned brighter within me.

Was I really ready to give up on our shared dreams?

To let him go again?

The thought of falling even deeper in love with Kuana all over again both exhilarated and terrified me.

I leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "Kuana, I understand the stakes. But I also know that together, we've faced insurmountable odds before. We can do it again."

He sighed, resting his forehead against mine. "It's different this time."

We stayed like that for what felt like hours, lost in a myriad of emotions and memories.

My determination solidified with each passing moment.

I wouldn't — couldn't — leave without him.

As the first light of dawn began to seep into the cell, a plan began to form in my mind.

Kuana was a formidable asset, yes, but he wasn't the only one with tricks up his sleeve.

Drawing back slightly, I locked eyes with him. "Kuana, I refuse to believe this is where our story ends."

He looked at me, uncertainty clouding his eyes. "What are you thinking, Vi?"

A smile tugged at my lips.

I had a mission of my own now.

A mission to free the love of my life and ensure the galaxy remained safe from untold threats.

* * *

I bid Kuana farewell.

It was the last thing I wanted to do but I needed to return to Gnarlak's cell before he realized I was missing.

I kissed Kuana on the cheek and stopped only once to look back at him before pulling the cloak on over my head.

I slowly trudged my way back to the Champion's cell, the hollow echo of my footsteps magnified by the metallic corridors of the prison.

My mind was a torrent of emotions: nostalgia, love, pain, and uncertainty.

Seeing Kuana after all these years should have brought clarity, but it only made things murkier.

The prison, with its cold steel walls and faint blue lighting, suddenly felt all the more oppressive.

I wondered if I had been too rash in my actions.

After all, a part of me had hoped for a simple, joyful reunion with Kuana.

But the reality was much more complex.

He was the same person I had loved, but there was an undeniable difference in him, a new depth.

His wildness seemed tempered, replaced by a sort of mature restraint.

Reaching the Champion's cell, I hesitated for a moment.

Taking a deep breath, I opened the cell door and removed the trophy I'd left jammed between it and the doorframe.

The room was dim, with just a faint hint of ambient light.

The Champion was still sprawled on the floor, his ornate armor slightly askew, his breathing even.

I looked around, noting the disarray, removed the cloak, and hung it back in the wardrobe.

Kneeling beside the Champ, I gently shook his shoulder.

He stirred, groaning as he opened his eyes.

They blinked a few times before focusing on me, a mixture of surprise and grogginess.

"What… where am I?" he mumbled, rubbing his temples, trying to sit up.

"In your cell," I replied, my tone even. "You blacked out last night."

He paused for a moment, trying to recollect. "Did we… uh," he hesitated, looking up at me with a hint of playfulness, "have a good time last night?"

I smirked, deciding to play along. "Oh, absolutely. That was why you blacked out. You pushed yourself so hard. You were a total sex machine."

A self-satisfied grin spread across his face. "Well, I always strive to give my best performance," he boasted, stretching his arms and yawning.

I couldn't help but chuckle inwardly.

Shuffling to a seated position, the Champion looked at me with a sly glint in his eyes. "So, how about round two… or three? One more before you return to the Prize Pool?"

"No," I said firmly, standing up. "Last night was enough."

The Champion raised an eyebrow, perhaps surprised at a Prize taking control. "Oh. Okay. Wait a second. I'll escort you back to the Pool."

"There's no need," I said. "I can take care of myself."

I exited the cell, the weight of my feelings for Kuana pressed on me, reminding me of the complicated path ahead.

The love I felt for him was undeniable, but there was a lot we needed to work through.

Closing the cell door behind me, I realized that while Kuana might have changed in some ways, my feelings for him hadn't.

They had only deepened, evolved, matured.

And though the path ahead seemed uncertain, I was ready to face it head-on, to understand the Tok he had become, and to reclaim the love story that had once defined both our lives.

I turned to march down the hall when I bumped into something — or, rather, someone.

"Excuse me," I muttered as I shifted to move around them.

But as I moved, they stepped with me.

Oh, great. Now I'm going to have to box this clown?

A large green hand landed on my shoulder, its claws black and sharp. "Come with us. Ikhax wishes to speak with you."

I gulped.

I thought I would have more time.

But it appeared fate had other plans.