6. Violet

The clamor of the prison, the distant shouts, and murmurs faded as I was led deeper into the maze of corridors by two hulking alien inmates.

The pale lighting from above bathed everything in an eerie glow, casting long, monstrous shadows on the walls.

My heart raced, each beat echoing the steps of my massive escorts.

Every ounce of me screamed to run, but the two guards flanking me were twice my size, their presence domineering, the air around them dense with intimidation.

I felt trapped, a small fish in an ocean of predators.

The thought of confronting Ikhax sent shivers down my spine.

He had a reputation, one built on cruelty, power, and manipulation.

As I continued walking, my mind raced, rehearsing what I could say.

Should I plead?

Reason with him?

Offer a bargain?

Whatever it was, I had to ensure it did not jeopardize Kuana.

My love for him was a strength, but in this situation, it felt like my greatest vulnerability.

Ikhax could use my feelings for Kuana against me.

The silvery gleam of Kuana's scales flashed before my eyes, a fleeting memory.

His warmth, the safety of his embrace, the promise of a love rekindled — they all felt a universe away.

If only Kuana had agreed to leave.

But now, I was caught in a web, my fate uncertain, my lover's safety hanging in the balance.

But if there was one thing I'd learned from my time in the Space Force, it was resilience.

Every encounter, every setback had molded me into the woman I was today: determined, resourceful, and never willing to back down.

Ikhax might be fearsome, but he wouldn't find a timid, frightened creature in me.

"Speak with confidence," I silently coached myself. "Make him believe you're in control, even if you don't feel it."

The two behemoth escorts slowed their pace.

We were nearing our destination.

I mentally cataloged potential escape routes, tucked away any signs of visible anxiety, and fortified my resolve.

It was showtime.

The door before us looked nondescript, blending seamlessly with the myriad other identical doors lining the corridor.

But I felt a strange energy emanating from it, an aura of importance, danger, and power.

This wasn't just any cell.

This was Ikhax's domain.

One of the guards reached out, his fingers dancing over the security pad.

The door slid open with a soft hiss.

My heart hammered, its rhythm loud in the silence that had settled.

"Go in," the taller of the two grunted, nudging me forward with a shove.

As much as I wanted to rebuke his roughness, I knew better than to incite any unnecessary confrontations.

Steeling myself, I took one final, deep breath, letting the cold, metallic air fill my lungs.

My gaze fixed on the dimly lit interior, and I stepped over the threshold, ready to face whatever awaited me inside.

The door shut behind me with a finality that was chilling.

But this was just another challenge, another puzzle to solve.

I wasn't going to be defeated, not by Ikhax, not by anyone.

I would get through this, for Kuana, for us.

* * *

The dim roomgradually came into focus, revealing the unexpected: a cozy domestic setting, one that could have belonged to a suburban house in the Terran outskirts.

Low hanging chandeliers exuding a warm, golden glow, soft couches and chairs draped with intricate textiles, and a large open-concept kitchen occupying the center stage.

It was disarmingly… ordinary.

"Ah, Violet!" a voice rang out, jubilant and crisp.

Emerging from the open kitchen, Ikhax's towering figure unfolded, revealing all four of his elongated, tentacle-like arms.

Each one moved with a fluid grace, independent yet harmonized.

His blueish skin seemed to shimmer under the lighting, and his black eyes twinkled with mischief.

"Ikhax," I acknowledged, standing my ground, though internally surprised by the warmth of his greeting.

He approached with an unsettling grace, his four arms extending.

Two of them embraced me, while I felt another pat my shoulder and the fourth… I could have sworn it squeezed my ass.

I gasped, pulling back a little, but it was hard to be sure, with so many limbs fluttering around me.

"My dear, it's so delightful to finally meet you!"

He grinned, revealing rows of sharp, pearly white teeth.

The familiarity of his touch and tone was unnerving.

This wasn't the notorious gang leader I had heard of.

This was an eccentric chef in the middle of cooking a grand meal.

"Uhm, thank you," I managed to utter, my defenses up. "Your reputation precedes you too."

Ignoring my stiffness, Ikhax pranced back to his cooking station. "You've caught me at a good time. I'm preparing a delicacy from my home planet, Qyrix. Ever heard of it?"

I shook my head, still wary, watching his arms dance around with unmatched coordination — chopping, stirring, seasoning, and sautéing.

His multitasking was truly a sight to behold.

A faint aroma wafted through the room, tantalizing my senses.

It smelled delicious, which further added to the surrealism of the situation.

"Would you like a taste?" he asked, extending one arm that held a spoon dripping with some sort of sauce.

Reluctantly, not wanting to offend, I leaned in and tasted.

It was an explosion of flavors — sweet, tangy, with a hint of spice.

It was unlike anything I had ever tasted before.

"It's good," I admitted.

Ikhax chuckled, looking pleased. "That's just the base sauce. Wait till the entire dish is ready."

We chatted as he cooked.

About the various planets he'd visited, the exotic cuisines he loved, even about the latest space-fashion trends.

He was well-informed, charismatic, and oddly charming in his own peculiar way.

The elephant in the room — our potential business — remained untouched, hanging heavy in the air.

Instead, we chatted as if we were old acquaintances catching up after years, and not two individuals meeting for potentially perilous negotiations.

It was clear Ikhax enjoyed this game of cat and mouse.

His ever-present joviality, however, was a thin veil, a fa?ade that barely concealed the danger lurking beneath.

I had to be cautious, treading the line between being amiable and assertive.

As the minutes passed, the dish he was preparing seemed to be nearing completion.

With a flourish, Ikhax scooped the steaming concoction into a transparent container, which he then slid into a large, alien-looking device — presumably his version of an oven.

With the dish now baking, the room's ambiance shifted.

The cozy kitchen no longer felt like a refuge.

I felt the weight of his gaze, intense and calculating.

The friendly charade was over.

Ikhax clapped his hands, all four of them, producing a sound akin to a drumroll.

His smile, previously warm and inviting, now took on a predatory curve.

"Let's get down to business," he declared, his tone dripping with anticipation.

The moment the words left his mouth, the whimsicality of the evening's earlier exchange dissipated, replaced by a cold, businesslike air.

The delicate aroma of the dish still baking in the oven clashed with the palpable tension now settling in the room.

"I have your escape all prepared for you," Ikhax began, his deep voice echoing slightly in the chamber. "You don't need to worry about anything. I've arranged it all."

I thought back to the day I had learned Kuana was being held at Ikmal prison.

Even without proof, I somehow knew it to be true.

Getting into Ikmal was not hard — especially as a female — but getting out was a problem.

That was when I approached some informant contacts I'd made over the years and they put me in touch with Ikhax.

He would provide me with an escape — along with one other prisoner — in exchange for information.

And now that I was in the prison, he wanted what I knew.

"So…?" he said, letting the unasked question hang between us.

I cleared my throat, my palms sweaty despite my attempt to remain composed. "Ikhax, I have the information," I began cautiously. "But there's been a… complication."

His eyes narrowed, one of his arms instinctively reaching out to grip the counter beside him, conveying a sense of restrained anger. "Complication? What kind of complication?"

I hesitated for a moment, trying to choose my words carefully. "I'm not yet ready to leave the prison. I have certain… things I need to do first."

Namely, convince Kuana to leave with me!

Ikhax's eyes, already piercing, seemed to drill into me. "You're playing games with me, Violet," he hissed.

"I assure you, I'm not," I responded, trying to keep my voice steady. "You'll get your information. I've come too far to back out now."

Ikhax's gaze lingered on me for a few long, agonizing moments. "Our deal was specific. You give me details about the research center that went up in flames five years ago, and in return, I grant you a way out of this prison, along with one prisoner of your choice. It was a simple, straightforward transaction."

I nodded, memories of the explosion and the subsequent loss filling my mind.

But I couldn't let Ikhax see my emotional vulnerability. "I understand. And I fully intend to uphold my end of the bargain. I just… I need a little more time."

His four arms waved animatedly, his frustration evident.

Then, I blinked.

Suddenly, I found myself not in Ikhax's cell, but standing on lush, green grass.

The sudden change disoriented me, the bright sun above blinding after the dim corridors of the prison.

I blinked and tried to process the rapid shift in surroundings.

Beautiful, vibrant flowers surrounded me, their fragrance intoxicating.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" came Ikhax's voice from behind.

I spun around, finding him leisurely picking a gleaming red fruit from a tree. "Ikhax? What happened? Where are we?"

He grinned, his four arms each occupied with a different task — two plucking fruits, one stroking the petals of a flower, and the fourth waving a small creature away. "Ah, Violet, welcome to my Fabrication."

"Fabrication?" I echoed, looking around in bewilderment. "This feels…. real."

Ikhax chuckled. "It is real, to an extent. It's a skill our species mastered long ago — a way of diving into the psyche, creating a shared world. A world where the only limit is imagination."

"But… why?" I pressed.

He approached me, holding out one of the glistening red fruits. "Privacy. Out there," he said, gesturing vaguely upwards, "we can be overheard, watched. But in here? We're in your head. It's just the two of us."

Eyeing the fruit hesitantly, I reached out and took it.

It felt real — cool and firm in my grip.

Tentatively, I bit into it, and the sweetness exploded in my mouth, more vivid than any real fruit I had tasted.

Ikhax laughed at my surprised expression. "Convinced yet?"

I nodded slowly, still processing the reality — or unreality — of the situation. "Okay, so we're in my head. What do you want?"

He looked at me seriously. "Our deal, Violet. It's imperative I get the information you promised. The balance of power in the galaxy is at stake."

I sighed, wishing I had never gotten tangled up in this mess. "I told you I need more time."

Ikhax's gaze hardened. "The clock is ticking. In three days, the opportunity for your escape will pass. After that… Well, let's just say you'll be here permanently. Unless," he paused, a sly smile playing on his lips, "we come to another arrangement."

I narrowed my eyes at him, sensing his ulterior motive. "What sort of arrangement?"

His gaze traveled over me, leaving a trail of unease in its wake. "A more… intimate one."

I felt a chill run down my spine. "You want a relationship?"

Ikhax's chuckle sounded more sinister now. "Not a relationship, Violet. No, something far simpler. My needs aren't complicated."

Feeling trapped in this make-believe world, I tried to keep my voice even. "That's not part of our deal."

His face inched closer to mine. "Neither is your ‘complication.' If you fail to give me the information I desire within the next three days, our agreement is null and void. But we may… come to another arrangement."

The beautiful Fabrication felt more like a cage than a paradise.

I took a step back. "I'll… I'll be ready in three days. I swear. You'll have your information and I'll have my escape."

He grinned. "Good."

He clapped his hands, and the Fabrication began to dissolve around us.

And just as suddenly as I had been pulled into the Fabrication, I found myself back in his cell.

Ikhax's cell was exactly as I had left it, the only difference being the gentle hum coming from the alien contraption that functioned as an oven.

The environment still reeked of a deceptive charm, the familiar scent of whatever Ikhax was baking clouding my senses.

Even amidst the tension of our previous conversation, I found myself oddly curious about the aroma wafting in the air.

The four-armed leader reached in, retrieving a cake that looked surprisingly Earth-like.

Its light blue icing shimmered and sparkled, as if specks of stars were trapped within.

Tiny edible constellations?

I found myself wondering, though I dared not ask.

Ikhax inspected his creation with a look of deep satisfaction.

He then looked up, all four of his arms moving in a dance of efficiency as he began slicing the cake, his movements almost hypnotic.

"You're free to leave," he said without looking up, a surprisingly casual tone in his voice after our intense conversation in the Fabrication.

My eyes darted to the guards flanking the door, the two towering henchmen nodding in confirmation.

The path was clear.

Taking a deep breath and pushing away the lingering unease, I started to make my way to the door.

As I reached it, I glanced back to see Ikhax still engrossed in serving his cake.

Stepping out, the door shut behind me with a soft, almost inaudible hiss, sealing Ikhax and his intriguing world away, at least for the time being.

I hurried back to the Prize Pool, my heels clicking against the cold, hard floor, each step echoing the rapid beat of my heart.

The looming walls of the prison seemed to press in on me from every side, but my thoughts were consumed by one thing:

Kuana.

How could I convince him to leave this place?

What could possibly tie him so strongly to this prison that the prospect of freedom held no allure?

And more importantly, how could I breach the walls he'd built around himself?

I had seen a glimmer of the Kuana I once knew in his eyes, but was that enough?

Reaching the Prize Pool, I paused to catch my breath, leaning against the cool metal railing.

Below, the familiar sights and sounds of the prison's social hub greeted me — prisoners mingling, trading, laughing, arguing.

But it all felt so distant, so inconsequential compared to the whirlwind of emotions churning within me.

I needed to find a way to reach out to Kuana, to remind him of what we once shared, of the life that awaited us beyond these walls.

I knew the risks of our escape, but the thought of being trapped here, of becoming one of Ikhax's playthings, was even more terrifying.

Closing my eyes, I took a deep, steadying breath, pushing away the dread and fear.

I had always been a fighter, and this was no different.

I would find a way to get through to Kuana, to make him see reason.

For both our sakes, I desperately hoped I could.

Three days.

That was all I had.

Three days.