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The thought of seeing Ellie again, of holding her close, was a beacon of light in the never-ending darkness that had become my reality.
I closed my eyes, letting the sensations around me amplify.
The cold metal of the chair against my skin, the shuffling of the Scientist’s four feet, even the subtle shift in the Supervisor’s odor — everything seemed to become more intense.
My mind raced, struggling with the dilemma.
Sacrifice the future of the galaxy or sacrifice my future with Ellie?
It was an impossible choice.
After what felt like an eternity, I opened my eyes, locking onto the Supervisor’s expectant gaze.
I simply held his stare, allowing my silence to speak louder than words ever could.
His body relaxed and he nodded his head. “Very well,” he said.
Then he barked an order to his guards, who hauled me back to my cold, frigid cell, and I dreamed of having Ellie back in my arms.
11
ELLIE
It was strange coming back to what I once considered ‘home.’
The walls felt confining, every corner and nook oddly suffocating.
I paused in the center of my living room, trying to take it all in.
The room was filled with the fragrance of vanilla from the scented candles I always kept burning.
Their familiar scent now seemed out of place, a mere ghost of the comfort they used to provide.
I glanced around, the soft beige walls, the plush sofa, and the minimalist decor.
It all felt so… limited, so diminutive.
Before Ikmal prison, this place was my sanctuary.
Now, every inch felt like a restriction, echoing the confines of that cold, metallic cell.
Every sound from outside became an eerie reminder of my time on that alien planet.
A distant siren morphed into the wailing alarms of the prison.
The low hum of the refrigerator took me back to the ever-present drone of its machinery.
Even the soft patter of rain against the window panes reminded me of the unfamiliar atmosphere of Ikmal.
It was as if the universe refused to let me forget.
Pushing away those thoughts, I decided to get some sleep, hoping it would bring a fresh perspective in the morning.
But as I lay in bed, I could still sense the cold steel of that prison cot.
The cotton sheets contrasted greatly with the rough fabric I had become accustomed to.
And where there was once the warm, comforting presence of Ceara beside me, now there was only cold emptiness.
