“Well, fuck me,” Gideon exasperated as he and Cillian made their way out of the auditorium where today’s lecture had wrapped. They held their holo pads in their hands, which was sadly the only possessions they really had. Minus the clothes on their backs and a few in their drawers that they had for rotation.

  Cillian rubbed the back of his shoulder. A knot clearly forming right in the area he couldn’t quite reach. “Better or worse than expected?”

  “Neutral. Way more complex. You bet your ass they’re holding back information. And if that doesn’t make you nervous...”

  Cillian snorted. “Yeah, no arguing that. What do you think your abilities could be, anyway? Did you have any specialty back on Earth? Anything hinting that you’re, I don’t know… more than human?”

  “Fuck if I know. You?” Gideon let out a humorless laugh.

  “Not a clue—unless being a nerd counted as one.”

  “Ha! Okay, Clark Kent,” Gideon barked, nearly careening into another human who was rushing toward the auditorium. That person’s in for a treat, he thought.

  “I swear, if I end up being the only human with no powers, I’m gonna lose it,” Gideon grumbled. “Can’t see them keeping us around if we’re useless.”

  “You don’t think they’ll keep their word about letting us live and work here?”

  “Would you? If you ran the world?” Gideon shrugged. “I’d ship them right back to Earth.”

  Was he right? Have abilities and be useful enough to live. Or have nothing and hope they were actually telling the truth.

  “With the way humans have been acting, I can’t imagine they’re going to want to keep us around,” Cillian muttered.

  “No shiiiit,” Gideon dragged out, almost singing it.

  They trudged forward, passing every busybody on their way to either save the universe or learn about it. Cillian and Gideon had agreed to keep to themselves for now. It was important—well, to Gideon, at least—to observe people before making any commitments. A little over the top, but Cillian was just going along with it.

  They made their way beneath a series of transparent walkways, the clear glass bridges suspended overhead like floating ribbons of light. The path beneath their feet glowed softly with that familiar blue-white hue—unmistakably Pantorian.

  Every building they passed was stark white, smooth and seamless, as if carved from a single piece of polished stone. Some of the buildings had floor-to-ceiling windows reflecting the ambient lights, casting faint shifting patterns across the ground as people moved inside.

  As they approached the mess hall, the noise hit them first—a low, constant rumble of too many voices in one place. Through the towering windows, the room was packed, bodies clustered at tables, the glow of the overhead lights bringing to view who occupied that space and the food they were stuffing in their mouths.

  One glance inside was enough. They exchanged a look, wordless but mutual.Yeah. They’d wait until the rush died down before dealing with that level of chaos.

  They decided to make their way to the open field where humans lounged in scattered groups, talking and relaxing. The grass—if you could call it that—was lush, soft under their hands and feet. There were no benches or structured places to sit, so they plopped down where they could avoid crowds. The dorms, as Cillian liked to call them, formed a U-shape around the field, which lay behind him. Too bad none of the rooms had windows or he would have fought someone for this view.

  The air was incredible—crisp, refreshing, and faintly reminiscent of cucumber mixed with the salty sea breeze. Sunset was approaching, painting the sky in colors that made ordinary sunsets on Earth look dull: vibrant pinks and purples, almost fiery in their intensity.

  Cillian leaned back on his arms, stretching his legs out in front of him. For a brief moment, the wind picked up, tugging at his dark black hair and sweeping it from his eyes. He noticed movement above—the sky was crossed by winged creatures, birdlike but unlike anything he’d ever seen. They reminded him of peacocks, only much larger, with long, flowing tails that trailed behind them as they glided gracefully. Their feathers burned red and orange in the sunlight—was that… a phoenix? This place was every girl’s dream. He found himself wishing he could explore the planet beyond the base.

  This facility was enormous. What lay behind him was only one sector—one out of roughly fifty. Walking from one end to the other would take hours; transportation was the only practical option. The base easily housed all the humans currently here, with room to double that… maybe even more. And whispers floated among the residents of another base that housed more of the Pantorian soldiers.

  Cillian noticed that the people rescued spanned every age, size, and level of health. He wondered what they’d do with the elderly who couldn’t work—or those with disabilities. It was almost unbelievable that they would even take care of them. Even more unbelievable that they had survived long enough to make it here in the first place.

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  Was God—or Omega, as they called him here on the Aetherion Galaxy—really like what the Bible describes? Did he forgive sins and show kindness? Judging by his friend’s fondness for the F-bomb, he couldn’t imagine Omega letting him into heaven, assuming the church’s rules were even real.

  Cillian wasn’t religious himself. He maybe went to church on holidays at most. And is there even a heaven? Isn’t this exactly where they were now technically? It just dawned on him that this might actually be heaven. What a twist of events.

  Cillian and Gideon stayed clear from people, not just to observe them. Things were starting to get tense around here. On more than one occasion, Cillian had to dodge physical altercations with people who seemed intent on putting a target on his back. He wasn’t sure how these beings felt about a human being murdered, and given he survived an apocalypse, he definitely didn’t want to die here by the hand of his own kind.

  He and Gideon had also overheard some of the men talking about staging a riot—to prove a point, apparently, that humans can’t be meddled with. Cillian and Gideon agreed on one thing: zero participation. Mostly out of fear. Aliens existed, and they were obviously way more technologically advanced. If they wanted to, they could erase them in an instant. Somehow, that gave Cillian peace of mind—maybe these beings were trying to help. After all, why bother “saving” them if they didn’t care?

  On a slightly more sentimental note, Gideon had offered to protect Cillian from his enemies. Funny, considering Cillian could definitely handle himself. But hey, if it made Gideon feel like the alpha male of their little cohort, he’d let him have that illusion.

  Gideon lay flat on his back, thick forearms tucked beneath his head. The way the fading light stretched across his skin carved shadows along the veins running down his arms. He stared up at the sky, taking in the shifting colors the same way Cillian was. If anyone had said this place wasn’t impressive, they’d be lying.

  “So what’s your deal? What exactly did you leave behind?” Cillian kept the question broad on purpose, giving Gideon room to choose how much of himself he wanted to reveal.

  “Everything—and then nothing at all.” Gideon huffed out a dry laugh. “Doesn’t even matter.”

  Silence settled between them. Cillian could feel there was more, so he waited, letting the moment stretch until Gideon decided he was ready.

  With a slow breath, Gideon finally continued. “I was a firefighter back home. Good at it, too. I worked my ass off to get there, made a great living. But I lived the bachelor life. Never had roots—place or person. I was talking to this girl before the world went to shit, but it wasn’t going anywhere.” He rolled his jaw as he thought. “Truth is, I never knew how to be alone. So there was always… someone.”

  He paused, then his voice lifted, almost animated. “My car, though. Oh, I loved my car.” He clicked his tongue, grinning faintly at the memory. “You would’ve loved it, man. A 1969 Ford Mustang Fastback.”

  Cillian let out a low whistle. “How’d you get your hands on one of those?”

  “Hunted her down,” Gideon said, eyes brightening. “Took me a while to find her. Some old guy in Texas was selling her. As soon as I saw the listing, I caught the first flight out. Met the guy in person, used a little of that Gideon charm…” His grin widened. “And he gave her to me for a steal.”

  Cillian watched the glow in Gideon’s eyes, the bittersweet edge softening his expression. He could tell the man meant what he’d said earlier—everything and nothing. All of it had been material in the end. Jobs could be replaced, sure, but the years of work it took to earn them, that was harder to let go of.

  “What about family?” Cillian didn’t want to pry, but curiosity got the better of him.

  “What family?” Gideon let out another dry laugh—sharper this time. He sat up, elbows on his knees, shaking his head as if amused by something bitter only he could taste. “My family’s a bunch of drug addicts and alcoholics. I moved to Seattle ten years ago. Grew up in California, but I left that whole life behind and never looked back.” He scratched his jaw. “I’ve got brothers—older and younger. All of them in gangs now. Or… were.” His voice softened into something tired. “Who knows if they’re dead or alive. I never kept track, and I doubt they made it.”

  Cillian just nodded. So the guy had a rough life. And he’d clawed his way out of it. Against his own expectations, Cillian felt respect settling in. Gideon was a very complex person and was actually glad they’re able to get to know each other more.

  “What about you?” Gideon leaned back again, stretching out like he’d answered everything he needed to. “I know who you are. What you do. Who your family is. But what is it people don’t know?”

  The answer came easily—too easily. “That I hate my father.” Cillian’s voice dropped, nearly flat. “We all did. My mom was an angel and didn’t deserve this life. I just wish I could’ve protected her. All of us, really.”

  Gideon hummed in agreement, a low sound of understanding rather than pity. He knew—Cillian could tell he knew. If Gideon had thought he was some spoiled entitled asshole, he wouldn’t have approached him at all. The man had instincts, and apparently, Cillian had slipped through them in the right way.

  “What about a girl?” Gideon asked, tone lighter.

  Cillian let out a small laugh. “I got into a horrible fight the night before everything happened. I left the city and hid out at our mountain house. Mostly because I knew she wouldn’t find me there.” He shook his head at himself. “She was one of the crazy ones. Apparently, that’s my type.”

  “Oh, I love the crazy ones,” Gideon said with way too much enthusiasm. “They make life interesting.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good thing. My therapist said it’s childhood trauma I’m seeking in my relationships.”

  “No, no,” Gideon insisted with a lazy grin. “The feisty ones are the sexiest ones.”

  Cillian rolled his eyes. He’d almost forgotten who he was talking to. Silence settled between them as they took in their surroundings. To his right, he could hear the laughter of a few other humans. They sounded carefree and at peace. At least some people were finding their way back to that kind of lightness.

  He almost missed it. It had been years since he’d felt anything close to real joy, and he wasn’t sure he could blame the alien invasion for that. In fact he almost felt like a weight has been lifted off his shoulder. Sure people still knew who he was, but he didn’t have his father’s legacy looming over him. That was enough to give him a small reprieve.

  “We need a plan if things go south. Maybe scope out the place, too. And definitely get close to some of the higher-ranked officers—see what they’re holding back,” Gideon said, snapping his fingers like he’d just struck gold. “You’re smart as shit, right? Think you could fly one of those things?” He nodded toward one of the aircraft gliding overhead.

  From time to time, the low hum of chrome ships echoed across the base as they came and went. This one in particular was much smaller than the ones they had encountered on Earth—designed for no more than ten people. The chrome shimmered in the sunset, reflecting the light so brilliantly that Cillian had to shield his eyes.

  “I’d need a closer look,” Cillian said. “But if I had the chance to tinker with one, I’m pretty sure I could figure it out. Their tech is fascinating—definitely worth studying everything they’ve got. I’ll probably have to learn their language too. I doubt their manuals are in English, and honestly… it might be better if all of us learned it. At least then they can’t have conversations right in front of us that we can’t understand.”

  “So it’s a plan. See what you can figure out.” Gideon flashed his trademark, prize-winning smile. Yeah, sure buddy. I’ll figured it out.

  Curious, Cillian asked, “Okay… so I do that. Where exactly are we going?”

  “Uranus. What the fuck you mean?” Gideon smirked. “Back to Earth, obviously.”

  “And what if there’s nothing left to go back to?”

  “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” Gideon replied casually.

  “And you? What’s your role in all this?”

  Gideon stood, smoothing his grey sweats as if it were a tailored suit he needed to look perfect. “Go find a gym. I’m here to kick ass and take names. I’m defending your scrawny ass—and maybe recruiting a few more people who actually deserve to be in our crew.”

  Cillian knew exactly what Gideon was doing—the man was sharper than he gave himself credit for. Sure, he’d be running around doing most of the heavy lifting… for now. Until he figured out what the hell he actually wanted for himself.