Iggy woke up to his head pounding. Grimacing, he brought his fingers to the back of his skull. A large welt sat just above the nape of his neck where the soldier's gun hit him. It hid under his shaggy, black hair and furrowed its way under his skin, growing with blood with every breath he took. The pain rippling through his head made him want to vomit.
He groaned and looked around.
The crowd was gone. So were Moxi Daystar, Tenn, and the other tributes. He no longer was in the pit of the arena, surrounded by thousands of people who wanted to rip his head off for his words against the empire. He sat on cold concrete, only accompanied by his thoughts and the dull aches his body harbored.
He glanced at his leg. The wound stopped bleeding, as the material of his pants had been glued to his skin with dried blood. Gritting his teeth, he used the wall beside him to help himself up. Through the darkness around him, he realized he'd been thrown in a bland, metal box with a glass face. Outside, he spotted nothing but identical units. Other people lurked inside. Most had their hands and mouths bound with electronic devices.
Iggy's eyes widened.
They were holding cells.
He was in a holding cell.
Ignoring his throbbing leg and head, he hobbled over to the glass barrier. He pressed his hands to the cool surface. How long had he been here? Was Tenn somewhere nearby? Were they even in the arena anymore? A million other questions raced around his mind. His breathing picked up speed. He was barely taking in any oxygen. Eyes bulging, he backed away from the front of the cell until his back hit the other wall. He slid back down to the ground and buried his face between his knees. Twisting his fingers into his disheveled hair, he cursed himself.
What was I thinking?!
The consequences of his spontaneous speech before the entire Elysian Empire and whoever else might've been watching never dawned on him in the moment. All that mattered to him while he'd been speaking was getting his message out.
But what even was his message? What had he been hoping to accomplish? All he did was express a sentiment billions of others whispered in the shadows when the empire's eyes weren't on them. The emperor himself knew how his subjects felt about him.
His words likely had zero effect. Now, here he was, trapped in a box.
A sharp burst of pressurized air followed by mechanical whirring made Iggy snap his head upward. Four guards, their faces guarded by their shiny black visors, stood in front of his cell as the glass panel disengaged from its position. It retracted on either side until a doorway-sized opening was formed.
Iggy slowly got to his feet.
Wordlessly, a guard surged forward. They grabbed him by the scruff of his bloodied uniform and yanked him out of the cell. He didn't bother asking them any questions as they shepherded him out of the room holding the cells. He simply hung his head and focused on his breathing.
Upon stepping into a bright hallway, Iggy realized they were still somewhere in the stadium. A curved window bent around them as they navigated the hall. The stands and arena stared back at him through the spotless glass. Light from Neon City's towering buildings reflected off the metal throughout the arena. The stands were empty now. Replays from the games and advertisements played on the jumbotron in the sky.
Iggy's own face crossed one of the screens for a few seconds before being replaced by an advert for a new device developed by Ædard from House Au Taela. Iggy scowled at the man who once tried to sponsor him.
"Keep it moving," a guard barked. The muzzle of their rifle pressed into his spine. He clenched his jaw and soldiered on.
After traveling down multiple corridors, riding two sets of elevators, and walking up one set of stairs, Iggy and his four-man escort arrived before a set of double doors. They stretched nearly two stories above him and were painted black, a sharp contrast from the white of the hallway's walls.
A guard pressed their hand to the scanner built into the left door. Seconds later, the doors swung open.
Iggy was pushed inside. The guards stepped in after him and closed the doors.
A strip of blood-red carpet with gold trim traveled the length of the room like a tongue. Tables adorned with white tablecloths were placed about the room. Plush sofas and chairs faced the other end of the space, which overlooked the arena through massive windows shaped into a large triangle. In the center of it all sat a throne-like seat, fitted with sparkling ornaments, Elysian engravings, and a black and gold flag draped down the back.
House Au Castus.
Iggy stiffened.
Two of the guards who brought him into the room remained at the doors while the other pair stood silently at his back. They kept their hands on their guns, index fingers mere centimeters away from the triggers.
A figure dismounted the seat at the front of the room. They dropped the hood of their black cloak, revealing the piercing, gold eyes of the emperor. A drink rested in his limp hand. He brought it to his lips and sipped before approaching Iggy.
He said nothing but kept his stare on the emperor the entire time.
Voltai examined him with an amused grin. Then he started to clap. The guards bristled at the sound. Iggy lifted a brow at the sharp-faced Elysian. "Bravo, Iggorii," he mused. "Bravo. You certainly gave the people quite the show tonight."
He kept quiet.
"Nothing to say?" Voltai laughed. "How odd. You seemed to have much to say earlier."
That's what this was about. Of course it was.
"Voltai—"
"Emperor!" he roared. Iggy flinched. Voltai ran a hand over his face. The smile returned to his lips, but his eyes were alight with controlled rage. "I am your emperor, Iggorii. It seems you've forgotten."
"I didn't forget."
"I wanted to have you killed. But it seems you have friends in my counsel. They advised me not to execute you." The emperor sipped from his cup. When he pulled his lips away from the rim, the pink skin was stained red. "Alas, their advice has some merit. I can't kill you now. Your theatrics tonight have turned you into quite the figure around my empire. Killing you now would simply turn you into a martyr. Your words...they've already begun to spread like wildfire. A toxin, even. I can't risk you causing any more damage."
Iggy blinked rapidly, unsure of what he just heard. "What do you mean?"
"You've evolved from underdog to icon, my dear champion." Voltai flicked his hand at a screen nearby. It switched on and relayed a video feed. Through the grainy image, Iggy could see a crowd gathering in a city square somewhere in [planet name]*. The picture shifted to another, this time showcasing a burning building on [planet name]* that resembled the Elysian embassy on Novr. "Amazing what a few words can do."
Voltai stomped up to him until they were face-to-face. He snatched the Arigorii's chin in an instant. The rings covering his fingers dug into Iggy's skin and would surely leave marks. With his face squished, Iggy stared back at the emperor with his heart jackhammering behind his ribcage.
"I...I didn't do that."
He didn't. Right? He never told anyone to riot. Even if he had, no one ever listened to him. Why did they choose to start now?
"Oh, but of course you did. You did! It's no secret that dissent and conflict have been brewing within my empire. Since I ascended the throne, I've done my best to quell the whispers of rebellion. My predecessor let it spread far too much for me to have much of an effect." He released Iggy's face and shoved him backward. "But I was keeping the peace. That is until you opened your mouth."
Gulping, he shook his head. "I didn't mean to—"
"You didn't mean to what? Incite outrage and anarchy throughout my kingdom?" The emotion bled from Voltai's pale face. "Of course you didn't." He wagged a finger at the boy. "Perhaps I underestimated you, Iggorii. My arrogance landed me in lots of trouble during my younger days. My mother always told me it'd be the death of me. I never listened." He brought his cup to his lips, but his drink had been finished the last time he sipped from it. Upon realizing this, he launched it across the room and watched it clatter in the corner. "I know they put you up to this."
"No one put me up to any—"
"Do not lie to me!"
Silence spilled into the room. It sat on Iggy's chest like a weight, crushing his sternum. Tears filled his eyes as he shook his head vehemently at his emperor. His lip quivered. The man smiled.
"You don't think I've been watching you, my dear champion? I know what you and that old man have been doing. I know who you've been conspiring with in the dead of the night when you think no one's looking."
Iggy fell quiet again.
"You've been plotting with a rebel," Voltai revealed.
He nearly sighed with relief. Tightening his face, he kept a neutral expression and his lips sealed. The emperor might've known Iggy had been speaking with Jaxon Gunn, but he didn't seem to know his fiancé was involved. His knowledge seemed to end there, though, as he believed Tenn was involved.
But the Andradan had nothing to do with any of this.
His eyes widened.
"Where is he?" His voice shrunk like his shoulders. "Where is my friend?"
He snapped his fingers at the guards standing at the door. "Allow me to lead us into the true reason for our meeting tonight."
The doors opened and closed with a quiet creak. Iggy couldn't move. He wasn't sure he even wanted to. Fear spread through him like fog passing through the forests on Junzar. His hands trembled at his side. He eventually hid them in his pockets, hoping that it'd also hide the dread seeping through his pores.
Finally, a guard returned. He wasn't alone.
A thud sounded. Iggy spun on his heel and nearly screamed. Tenn's limp body laid on the ground. His grey hair covered his bruise-covered face. Raised, purple flesh surrounded one of his eyes. Dried blood marred the skin of his lips and nose.
"He's a strong man," Voltai remarked. "My men couldn't get a single answer out of him about what you've all been planning."
Iggy whipped his head around. "That's because he doesn't know anything! He isn't involved!"
"Do you know who that man is? Who he really is? That's Ohr-Yahn Tennic of Galenrad. Former Lord Commander of Torrunheil's Seventh Battalion. Rebel conspirator and would-be resurrector of the Centuri Order." He gestured incredulously at the old man on the ground. "You expect me to believe he wasn't involved?"
"I'm telling the truth." Iggy's nervous gaze jumped between Tenn and Voltai. "Please...don't hurt him anymore."
"Whether or not his pain continues or ends tonight is entirely up to you, Iggorii."
Behind them, a guard lifted Tenn's face from the floor by his hair. Blood trickled from his disfigured nose. His good eye fluttered open. Upon seeing Iggy, something unintelligible spilled from his cracked lips.
Voltai approached Iggy once again. He threw an arm over the boy's shoulder. It felt more like a snake constricting around his neck. With his free hand, the emperor pointed at Tenn's body. "You can stop his suffering right now. All you have to do is tell me everything you know about the spy you've been talking to and what they've been planning."
From the ground, Tenn discreetly shook his head. He started to speak, but the guard holding his head up delivered a swift kick to his ribs. More blood spilled from his mouth. Iggy tensed against Voltai's hold. Silent tears slid down his cheeks.
"Tell me everything." The emperor's voice was dark and heavier than the night sky itself.
He couldn't let this continue. Tenn didn't do anything wrong. He'd even told Iggy to not get involved with Jaxon or his plot to kidnap a Noblus for the Axarian Alliance. But he didn't listen. He just had to prove himself. He wanted nothing more than for others to see him as a fighter; as someone strong and capable.
And where had that gotten him?
Sniffling, Iggy wiped his nose with the sleeve of his Au Castus-issued uniform. Through his tears, he watched helplessly as Tenn groaned in pain on the floor. The faceless guard stood over him with his gun at the ready.
He couldn't let this continue.
"Do not!" Tenn croaked. He spat at the feet of the emperor. The man's lip curled at the blood staining his glossy, black boots. Tenn's dark eyes shifted toward Iggy. "You...you keep your mouth shut, you hear me, boy?"
"Tenn, they're going to—"
"Say nothing! Promise me!"
He couldn't. He wouldn't.
"Promise me!"
"Shut up, old man!" Voltai stomped forward and drove his foot across Tenn's face. The old man collapsed again. Low grumbles left his mouth as he remained face-down on the floor. The emperor turned to Iggy. All the patience he once had was gone now. His mouth had been twisted into a snarl and his eyes burned like stars. "Tell me everything. Now!" He jabbed a finger at the boy. "Tell me or I will execute him."
Iggy's throat closed. Air refused to reach his lungs. "I...I can't."
"Fine." Voltai snatched the rifle out of the nearest guard's hands. He ordered his other soldiers to put the man on his knees. Once they had the half-conscious man kneeling, the emperor gave Iggy one last look. "You don't think I'll do it?" He cocked his weapon. It clearly wasn't his first time. "You think I'm bluffing?"
"N-No—"
"Tell me what you know or he dies."
Iggy swallowed hard. The words were at the tip of his tongue, seconds away from spilling out. What loyalty did he owe to Jaxon and Noia? To the Axarian Alliance? What had they done for him? He couldn't even be sure that Jaxon was able to help his mother as he said he would. As for Noia... He owed her nothing.
But Tenn? He owed that man everything.
That old man kept him alive from the moment he stepped on The Chyron. Without him, he would've never made it to Elysium. He never would've had the chance to fight in the games for his freedom. He never would've learned the truth about what happened to his father.
He had to tell Voltai what the Axarian Alliance was planning. He had to.
But as he stared into the Andradan's eyes, he knew he couldn't. For whatever reason, Tenn would rather die than expose the rebel's plans. And he didn't even agree with them. That must've meant something. Iggy refused to believe it didn't.
More tears escaped his eyes. He closed them.
A single gunshot rang out. Tenn's body hit the ground.
Those two sounds would echo through Iggy's ears for the rest of his life.
#
The emperor sent Iggy back to his cot in the tribute sleeping quarters. It was emptier than ever—only eight of them remained. They were all spread out throughout the room, further emphasizing the space between them.
He laid his head on his stiff pillow, his eyes wide open, his stare blanker than the walls he gazed upon. They'd been like that for hours now. Sleep evaded him when he wanted nothing more than to drift off into a dreamless coma. The tears stopped long ago, though, remnants of the hollow sadness leaking from his eyes remained on his cheeks. Every few seconds, he'd take a shattered breath. Each one made his chest feel like it would cave in.
He wished it would.
He wished he wouldn't have to take another breath again.
Tenn certainly wouldn't.
The sound of that rifle firing haunted him. It replayed over and over in his brain, stuck on an eternal loop that only served to agonize his tortured soul. Pressing his hands to his ears did nothing to relieve him from the noise. Neither did closing his eyes. Whenever he blinked, he saw Tenn's battered body. He saw the blood dribbling from his nose and mouth.
That was the final image he had of the man.
Every other memory he had of Tenn would forever be overpowered by how he looked moments before he was executed.
Iggy grabbed a fistful of his sheets. He bit into his pillow to stop from screaming.
He'd never forgive himself for what he did—or what he didn't do. He should've fought those guards. He should've taken that gun and fired it on Voltai. The rational part of his psyche knew that wouldn't have been possible, though. The only way he could've saved Tenn was by giving Voltai what he wanted.
Even then, there was no guarantee the emperor would've kept his word.
Rumors of how he ascended to his role as ruler of the Elysian Empire circulated throughout his domain. House Au Castus' sacred animal was the serpent. Treachery and lies weren't unbeknownst to him or his family.
While Voltai might've pulled that trigger, Iggy couldn't help but feel like he killed Tenn. It was his involvement with Jaxon that led the emperor to believe the old man was involved. It was his speech that got them both captured, his inability that got Tenn killed.
Iggy wouldn't let his death be for nothing.
He didn't know how he'd do it, but he would kill Emperor Voltai au Castus. He'd do it for Tenn. For his mother, for the tributes who died in the arena, and for the galaxy itself. He'd rid the galaxy of the plague that was the Elysians.
That thought would be his only comfort. It coiled around him, whispering in his ears and stoking the fire growing in his soul. He let it lull him to sleep. It inspired a single dream within him. He dreamed of death—fiery and beautiful. Not for him. Not even solely for the emperor.
He dreamt of the death of the empire.