I find breakfast ready for me at my usual spot. It’s not much, just some bread and an apple, but still, I’m grateful. When I’ve peered down at the lower levels, I’ve seen that the prisoners below only get a single piece of bread a day. I often wonder why we’re treated better than the rest. I’ve been hearing rumours about us being the most dangerous prisoners in Fort Stygian, but it feels absurd. Dangerous enough to threaten the Empire itself, yet here I sit with my breakfast, watching crumbs fall onto my plate. I’m no rebel, and I have no connection to the elites. For god’s sake, I’ve served the Empire my whole life! I’m sure there are people down there who are in here for much graver offences than mine. It makes no sense for me to be up here.

I quickly finish my meal. It’s not long before the four of us are grouped back together. This time, I don’t dare look up; I keep my head down until we reach what has quickly become my favourite room on this whole moon. Unlike most things here, the library feels like it was actually made with care. Its endless rows of ancient tomes lining dark wooden shelves stand in stark contrast to Fort Stygian’s cold, metallic walls. The musty smell of old paper hangs in the air, taking me back to the many hours I spent as a child in my father’s study.

I was alone back then, sitting in absolute silence for hours, with only the quiet rustle of the pages to remind me that I was still of this world. Oh, how wonderful it was to forget, even if only for a fleeting moment. And now, all these years later, I find myself wanting to bury myself in books once again. I’ve found myself looking back at my life much more since I’ve been sent here. I can only assume it must be a common thing to do when your time to think becomes greater than your ability to burn it.

I was born twenty-eight years ago in the Martian region of Tharsis, not far from Olympus Mons itself. Once a vast volcanic plateau known for its dramatic landscapes, it is now a lush forest filled with life and quaint cliffside villages. Many of my early summers were spent endlessly exploring the many creeks and caves of the Tharsian woods, my biggest worry being not having enough daylight to go further out before it was time to get back home.

Mother and father always encouraged my sense of wonder and my insatiable thirst for knowledge. I wanted to see the universe, but I also wanted to understand it. That’s why I used to spend all winter in my father’s study, trying to make sense of the world, even if I was just a small child. It was also my escape from the loneliness I felt back then; even at such a young age, one can only be alone with his thoughts for so long. I remember trying to make sense of it, but it was always the same.

The happiness of seeing my parents walk through the door, the hope in my heart that this time would be different, and the ever-growing pain of the goodbye that soon followed. They always tried to be buoyant and encourage me with a gentle smile as they left, but I know it hurt them even more than it did me.

They were the smartest people I know. That’s why they were always away, always required somewhere in the vast reaches of the Empire. They were some of the damn best scientists in the galaxy. But it’s a cruel world, and the universe doesn’t care what you do or how important you are. I was eleven when my Uncle Renard came to visit—which was odd, I thought, as it wasn’t the holidays—but I soon understood why. He tried to explain. A malfunction. A freak accident. A crash. Regret. Tears. Silence.

My memory of that moment is blurry. I spent my days crying and hiding wherever I could. The woods, the study, it didn’t matter. I only wanted to escape. I think I didn’t eat for a couple of days. A week later, I was on a shuttle with my uncle headed towards the Imperial capital, Ares Magna. Mars is the epicentre of the Empire, and its capital is built in its image. The colossal city, once humanity’s first interplanetary outpost, now stood as a testament to the royal family’s absolute power and domination over the known galaxy.

I marvelled over the endless expanse of golden-coated roofs as we flew past countless structures and buildings reminiscent of ancient splendour, evoking in me a sense of awe and reverence I had never felt prior to that moment. I knew the Empire had a deep respect for the great classical empires of before, but never did I expect it to be so deeply rooted in its identity. I even caught a glimpse of the Imperial Citadel, a city of white marble and gold built upon an artificially-created mesa that towers over the rest of the megalopolis.

I don’t know why, but in that moment I swore to myself I would one day stand among its countless columns and statues. But my dreams were cut short the moment we landed at the heliport. There’s one atop every high-rise building, and the skyscraper Uncle Renard lived in was no exception. Together with my Aunt Zinnia, he worked in the corporate world of Mars, leading a relatively comfortable life. Their biggest regret had been not being able to have a child of their own, so adopting me was an easy choice to make.

I didn’t understand at the time, but I will be eternally grateful for what they did. I consider them my second parents. As I grew up, they made sure I never forgot who I was and where I came from. I am the son of two of the most hard-working people I’ve ever known, and the primary heir of the Tharsicus line. We are no noble family, but we take pride in being among the oldest in the region. Not that I care much for these things. I’d trade it all if it meant I could bring them back.

The years passed in my new home, but the flame in me never died; I wanted to explore the universe and understand it. This is what my parents passed on to me. But I soon realised that their path was not going to be my own; with nothing to do but read and study, I grew restless. I decided I needed something different. I wasn’t going to follow in my parent’s footsteps. I wonder how much of it came down to resentment for how their profession had treated them and led them to their graves, albeit through an unlikely accident.

I chose adventure. I chose to forge my own path, away from the only planet I’d ever known. At eighteen years of age, I joined the Imperial Fleet. This was no rash decision—I’d spent the better part of my late upbringing studying the military histories of the Empire, going back all the way to the wars of old Earth. I was immediately captivated; I knew this was my calling. I dreamed of becoming a great Conqueror, outsmarting my enemies, and bringing glory and honour to my family. In a way, I felt this would be a way to avenge my parents’ deaths. I would rise above and make them proud.

And rise I did. I’d just finished with the Imperial Warfare College when the Great Outer Belt Rebellion broke out and I got transferred to the front lines. This presented itself as a unique opportunity for rapid ascension, and I was determined to get to the top. By the end of the war, I’d achieved the rank of Imperial Fleet Vice Commander. And yet, I knew I’d proven more than that. After everything I sacrificed for them, all the lives I took for them, I knew that I was worthy of being Commander. They didn’t let me; I was too young, they said. That was the first time I felt betrayed by the Empire I had dedicated my whole life to serving.

How naive I was. I cannot help but let out a small chuckle as I sit down in the history section of the library. The book I’m reading sits undisturbed on the small desk next to the shelf where I left it the day before. But as I take the book in my hands, a subtle shift in the air catches my attention. I am not alone.

“Who’s there?” I ask, unsure of where to look. Silence. I raise my voice. “Show yourself!” My body tenses. A moment later, a shadowy figure emerges behind a dimly lit shelf. Her posture, calm yet firm, speaks of a life where every step was calculated. This is no ordinary prisoner. “I’m sorry if I startled you, Alexander dei Tharsicus. I didn’t mean to.”

A part of me naively hoped this moment would never come, but it was only a matter of time. As she steps into the light, her golden eyes flicker in a manner I know all too well. There’s no doubt left in my mind—I have to face this head-on. Just as I'm about to speak, she cuts me off.

“I’ve been wondering about you ever since they brought you here”.

“Who are you?” I ask. “How do you know my name?”

“Ah, so you really are him. I must confess, I expected you to be taller, but that amber hair of yours is hard to miss. She laughs. “This makes things rather interesting.”

I’m confused. “What do you mean, and why are you not answering me?”

She looks amused. “I’m impressed. I figured Aurora would’ve told you at some point during all those years, but I guess she took it all the way to the grave.”

“What are you… how did you know my wife?” I blurt out.

“I’ll explain everything in due time, Alexander. I am Selene dei Solvator,” she says as she leans into me and whispers directly into my ear. “And I need your help.”

She vanishes before I can say another word. Solvator… could she really be who she claims to be? What does she want from me? And how does she know my wife, my sweet Aurora? My mind is racing and I don’t know what to do. Focus, I tell myself, focus. Selene. I need to know if she’s telling the truth.

I look down at my hands. I’ve been holding the book this whole time—I’d almost forgotten I’m sitting in a library. I rush out of my seat and start frantically scanning the shelves around me, my eyes darting from one row to another. I slide my fingers along the spines, feeling the textured bindings beneath my touch, hoping to find the book that I desire.

It isn’t long until I pull it out of the shelf. I’ve found it, the latest version of The Complete History of the Solar Empire. I sit down again and I open it by the last and most recent chapter, about the reign of the current Emperor. But as I’m about to start going through the pages, a sense of dread falls over me. If this is true, there will be no going back. Do I really want to get mixed up in this? Is it worth it? I could just forget about this whole thing, as if it had never happened in the first place. My wife is dead, and nothing will ever change that. I’ll just forget about it…

I slap myself. What am I even saying? What kind of a man would that make me? She always told me to be brave, and so I was. She’d want me to figure this out. And so, I will. It doesn’t take me long to find what I’m looking for. Hair as golden as the Sun itself, tall even in her youth. She’s only a teenager in the picture, and yet she already had that same spark in her eye as she does now. Selene dei Solvator is Imperator Quintarion dei Solvator’s only daughter.

The Emperor’s daughter, second-in-line to the Elysian Throne, is in Fort Stygian. And she just told me she needs my help. How is this possible? How is any of this possible? I’m starting to realise how little I know, and I’m scared. I jump up from my chair, heart pounding. I start frantically pacing around the room, wondering what to do. But I soon realise there’s only one way forward. I need to talk to her again.

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