Chapter 7: Property

Chapter 7: Property

This ship was bigger than I had originally thought. Once I had become Vash's apprentice, or as I would soon learn, her sponsored initiate, I was given my own room. I couldn't say how I ended up there, the metal parted like a curtain of water once a man pressed a button. The door simply dissolved, revealing a space beyond that was sterile and utilitarian.

"Here's your room," he said curtly. The man wasn't tall, but neither was he short. His shoulders were broad, his brown eyes steady, with a hidden passion I somehow knew could ignite at a moment's notice. His uniform was similar to the others I'd seen, but with additional markings on the collar and sleeve that suggested rank or specialization. He stood with perfect posture, hands clasped behind his back, every inch the disciplined soldier.

There was a dislike in those brown cavernous eyes. A resentment that radiated from him like heat from a furnace. In a way, it almost made me laugh. Compared to the nightmare I had just survived, to the open wounds on my soul that even when healed, would leave scars, this man's hatred of me seemed..trivial. Amusing even. What was his disdain compared to watching my son be devoured? What was his silent judgment next to holding my wife's cooling body?

I put Elisa in the soft bed in the average sized room. She hadn't woken during the transfer, her body still claiming the sleep it desperately needed. I tucked the unfamiliar blanket around her small form, smoothing her hair back from her forehead. She looked so much like Lynn in that moment that it physically hurt to breathe.

"What did I do to you?" I asked. I didn't want the confrontation at the moment, but idle curiosity didn't check in with my mouth before I asked the question. Perhaps I needed something normal, something human like petty dislike to ground me in this strange new reality.

Those brown orbs sparked with brief irritation. His jaw clenched, a muscle twitching beneath the skin. For a moment I thought he might answer, might give voice to whatever grievance he harbored. Instead, he merely nodded in response, striding away. The door reformed behind him with a soft hiss, sealing me in with my sleeping daughter and my thoughts.

The room itself was sort of bare, but I didn't mind. A bed for Elisa, a separate one for me. A small table with two chairs. What appeared to be a bathroom facility through another doorway. No windows, no pictures, no personal touches. Just clean, functional space. It reminded me of hospital rooms, designed for efficiency rather than comfort.

No physical monsters lurked here, but the ones in my own mind. They came rushing in now that I had a moment of stillness, of safety. The images I had been holding at bay flooded my consciousness with merciless clarity.

I had lost something precious. Never again would I see my wife's beautiful smile, or hear Jackson's laughter. Never again would I feel my wife's warm touch on me again. Her eyes looked at me as if I was the only thing in the world that mattered.

I wouldn't hear her voice.

I wouldn't make love to her again.

The way she would change the rooms around, never happy with one layout. Or add plants in just the right places, in exactly the right light. Her fierceness. Her kindness.

Gone.

Forever.

It was a loss beyond death. A part of me had died today. I was still a father, that was always true, and always would be.

But right now, I was ashes, until something new, something darker, stronger, and powerful emerged from it.

That was tomorrow. Tonight was for grieving.

I sat on the edge of my bed, face in my hands, and let the tears come. Silent, so as not to wake Elisa, but unrelenting. They streamed through my fingers, dropping onto the sterile floor like raindrops. Each one carrying away a fraction of the old Varus Thorne, the man who had believed in safety, in stability, in the fundamental goodness of the universe.

I cried for Lynn, for the decades we would never share. For the gray hairs we would never compare, the grandchildren we would never spoil together. For the countless small moments of intimacy that had been our daily bread, now forever lost to me.

I cried for Jackson, for his unfinished life. For the man he would never become, the potential erased in one moment of senseless violence. For his laughter, his curiosity, his boundless energy that had filled our home with life.

I cried for Elisa, who would grow up without her mother's guidance, without her brother's companionship. Who would carry the trauma of this night for the rest of her life, shaped by it in ways I couldn't yet fathom.

And finally, I cried for myself. For the man I had been just hours ago, content in his ignorance, secure in his illusions. That man was dead. What would rise from his ashes remained to be seen.

When the tears finally stopped, I felt hollow, scoured clean. Not healed, not by any measure, but emptied. Ready to be filled with something new. Something that could survive in this harsh new reality.

I lay back on the bed, not bothering to remove my torn, bloodstained clothes. Sleep claimed me instantly, pulling me down into merciful darkness.

I woke to Elisa's small hand on my face, her concerned eyes inches from mine.

"Daddy? Where are we?"

The question was innocent, direct, and devastating in its complexity. Where were we indeed? On a spaceship belonging to an alien woman who had claimed ownership of me. In a reality where monsters lurked and magic existed. In hell, perhaps, or some cosmic joke's punchline.

"We're safe," I said, because it was the only answer that mattered. "With people who are going to help us."

Her dark eyes, so like mine, studied my face. Even at five, she could sense when I wasn't telling the whole truth. But she nodded, accepting what I offered because she had no alternative. Just as I had done with Vash.

A chime sounded, and the door dissolved again. A different crew member stood there, a woman this time, with features similar to Vash's but less refined, less intimidating.

"Lady Vash requests your presence in training room three," she said, her tone professional but not hostile. "The child will be cared for."

Elisa's grip on my hand tightened instantly. "No! I stay with Daddy!"

I knelt beside her, my heart breaking anew at the fear in her voice. "It's okay, monkey. I'm just going to talk to the lady who helped us. I'll be back soon."

Her lower lip trembled. "Promise?"

"I promise." I hugged her tight, breathing in her scent, trying to memorize the feel of her small body in my arms. "Be good for these people, okay? They're going to keep you safe while I'm gone."

She nodded against my shoulder, reluctantly loosening her grip. The female crew member approached, extending her hand to Elisa.

"Would you like to see our garden room? We have plants from many different worlds. Some of them sing when you touch them."

Elisa's eyes widened at that, curiosity momentarily overcoming fear. She looked at me for permission, and I nodded, forcing a smile I didn't feel.

"Go ahead. I'll find you when I'm done."

I watched her leave, small hand engulfed in the crew member's larger one, her head turning back twice to check that I was still there. Then the door reformed, and I was alone.

Another crew member, the same man from last night, appeared to escort me. We walked in silence through corridors that all looked identical to my untrained eye, passing other Nyxen who spared me curious glances but said nothing.

Training room three was a large, open space with a floor that seemed to be made of some kind of padded material. The walls were lined with weapons of various types, some recognizable, others completely alien to me. Vash stood in the center, wearing a different outfit than before, something more fitted, designed for movement.

"You will find that the Flux responds to you in many different ways. Your first lesson is to open your status screen. Simply will it open with a thought."

No greeting, no acknowledgment of my loss, no concession to the fact that my entire world had been upended less than twenty-four hours ago. Just commands, expectations, the certainty that I would obey.

I did as Vash instructed, focusing my thoughts on seeing my status, and that familiar blue text flickered into existence before me.

[STATUS] Name: Varus Thorne Age: 31 Flux Level (FL): 1 Race: Human (Awakened) Faction: Nyxen (Initiate)

[PROGRESSION] Flux Experience (FEXP): 50

• Meditate on your path to advance Path: Unnamed/Unrefined

[TEMPERING] Mind: Awakened Initiate Body: Awakened Initiate Spirit: Awakened Initiate Bloodline: Scanning in process

[ATTRIBUTES] Resonance: 15 Projection: 12 Containment: 3 Perception: 4 Attunement: 4

[ASPECT ABILITIES] Vital: None Primal: Flux Surge (Initiate)

• Flux surges within you in response to your anger, granting you enhanced strength and speed. Deepen your connection to the Primal Aspect to enhance the strength of this ability. Flux: Flux Sense (Initiate)

• Your awareness of life, and objects connected to Resonance Flux. Can currently sense the strength of other initiate tier life forms and objects. Deepen your connection with the Flux on a neutral level to increase the power of this ability. Void: Consume Flux (Initiate)

• You can concentrate, tapping into the void aspect of the Flux and consume an initiate level Flux ability. Echo: None

[RESOURCES] Credits: None

I blinked at the information, scrolling through it with hand movements. There was no need to, but it felt right. Like your arms moving as you walk. The numbers and terms meant little to me, but I understood enough to recognize a measuring system of some kind. A way to quantify my abilities, my potential, my worth to people like Vash.

"Yes, it is a lot the first time. You will learn what all of it means in time. For now, we will ignore it."

I wasn't listening to her, choosing instead to study the information. The Primal ability seemed linked to what had happened when I saw Jackson killed, that surge of strength that had let me fight back. The Void one was completely foreign, and I wondered what it meant to "consume" a Flux ability.

As it turned out, ignoring her was a mistake. Her hand smashed into my face in an open palmed smack, and I was sent sprawling to the floor in a burst of hot, stinging pain. My ears rang, burning stars in my eyes as I struggled not to black out. The blow had come without warning, faster than I could perceive, with a force that belied her slender frame.

Vash's cold voice found my ears as I tried to reorient myself, the world spinning around me.

"Let's get something straight, initiate. I am your master. On your world, perhaps that is a dirty word. Maybe you don't know what that means. But in the Nyxen? You are little more than a slave. You belong to me. My property. I bought you with combat and blood. Like any property, I will invest in you, but you obey me. When I say ignore something, you ignore it. When I say hop, you hop. When I say stand, you stand."

A flash of utter cold in her dark eyes indicated I should do exactly that.

I did. My legs shaky beneath me, my pride more wounded than my face. I had been hit before, in schoolyard fights, in a bar brawl once in my twenties. But never like this, never with such casual disregard for my humanity. Never by someone who considered me an object rather than a person.

But anger simmered within me. That same anger that had surged when I saw Jackson die, that had given me the strength to fight back. It bubbled just beneath the surface now, a volcanic heat seeking release.

"This is not a good way to establish a working relationship with me," I hissed out through the grip of pain. My jaw ached where she had struck it, and I tasted blood where my teeth had cut into my cheek.

"Cope. Want to change the dynamic? Become more powerful. Lucky for you, I have an interest in assisting you."

Her tone was dismissive, but there was something else beneath it. A satisfaction, perhaps, at having provoked my anger. As if she wanted me furious, wanted that simmer to become a boil.

She held out her hand and a simple silver pummel and cruciform hilt appeared in her palm. It was wrapped in black, and a white jewel glittered in its center. The metal caught the light, reflecting it in ways that seemed to defy normal physics. No blade extended from the hilt, just that jewel, pulsing with an inner light that reminded me of the sword she had used to kill the creature in my home.

"Take it, and let us begin your training."

I hesitated, suspicion warring with curiosity. Was this a test? Another opportunity for her to demonstrate her dominance? But the curiosity won out. I reached for the hilt, my fingers closing around the grip. It felt warm, alive somehow, the metal seeming to adjust to my hand as if custom-made for me.

"This is a Resonance Blade," Vash explained, her tone shifting slightly, becoming more instructional. "Or it will be, when you learn to manifest the blade. It is the primary weapon of the Nyxen, an extension of your will and your connection to the Flux."

I turned the hilt in my hand, examining it from different angles. "How do I... manifest the blade?"

"The same way you opened your status screen. Will it into existence."

I focused on the hilt, picturing a blade extending from it. Nothing happened. I tried again, concentrating harder, imagining light flowing from the jewel, solidifying into a sword. Still nothing.

Vash watched impassively, neither encouraging nor mocking my efforts. "It may take time. The connection between you and the Flux is new, untrained. For now, you will practice the forms without the blade."

She moved to the center of the room, assuming a stance I didn't recognize. "Watch. Learn. Then repeat."

And so my training began. Hour after hour of basic movements, stances, footwork. Vash demonstrated, I copied. When I made a mistake, she corrected brutally, with a strike or a sweep of my legs that sent me crashing to the floor. No encouragement, no praise, just endless repetition and punishment for failure.

By the time she dismissed me, my body ached in ways I hadn't known were possible. Muscles I'd never been aware of screamed in protest. Bruises bloomed across my skin like poisonous flowers. I was drenched in sweat, trembling with exhaustion.

But something had changed within me. A small, hard kernel of determination had formed where before there had been only grief and confusion. Vash was right about one thing: power was the only currency that mattered in this new reality. Power to protect Elisa. Power to survive.

Power to ensure I would never again be called property.

As I staggered back to my quarters, the hilt of the Resonance Blade clutched in my hand, I made a silent vow. I would learn. I would grow stronger. I would rise through the ranks of the Nyxen.

And one day, when the opportunity presented itself, I would make Vash regret ever treating me as less than human.

The path to that day would be long, painful, and would change me in ways I couldn't yet imagine. But in that moment, with the taste of blood in my mouth and the ghost of Vash's hand still burning on my cheek, I took my first step.

The man who had been Varus Thorne, loving husband and father, was truly dead.

Something new was beginning to rise from the ashes.