chapter 3
1113 Words
chapter 3
The palace living room was vast, elegant, and cold in a way that had nothing to do with temperature. Tall arched windows looked out over the glittering nightscape of Omega, while soft recessed lighting traced the edges of the high ceilings. Sculptures carved from pale Martian stone stood like silent witnesses along the walls. Opposite the seating area, a wide digital screen stretched across polished black panels, divided into multiple live surveillance feeds from around the planet.
One quadrant showed a restless crowd gathered outside ALCAN LIMITED. Signs lifted into the air. Faces angry. Determined.
Exodus stood in front of that screen, hands clasped behind his back, posture rigid. The light from the display reflected off his metallic-toned skin, sharpening the hard lines of his expression.
Ice entered quietly.
He didn’t announce himself. He simply crossed the room and lowered himself onto one of the long cream sofas, leaning back as though he carried the weight of more than just the day.
“Hello,” he said calmly.
Exodus didn’t turn. “Wake up from your craziness,” he snapped. “Or we will lose everything.”
Ice studied him for a moment. “What is it?”
Exodus gestured sharply toward the screen. “Your silence toward these so-called demonstrations only shows weakness.”
“Every citizen of Omega has the right to expression,” Ice replied evenly.
“They’re demonstrating outside the company,” Exodus shot back. “Soon they’ll convince the workers to strike.”
Ice’s gaze shifted briefly to the protest feed, then back to Exodus. “Let Philip and his followers cry wolf. Our workers are well taken care of. I doubt they would find cause to strike.”
Exodus let out a humorless breath. “Just like that? You make everything sound so easy. I see danger if we don’t stop this.”
Ice’s eyes hardened. “Stop your paranoia. And don’t think I don’t know the nonsense you’ve been sending to Uncle on Mars.”
That made Exodus turn. “Go on with your teaching,” he said coldly. “Let me handle state affairs.”
Ice rose slowly from the sofa and began to walk across the room, hands behind his back, movements measured. For a brief second, the whites of his eyes darkened into a deep, unnatural black.
Exodus noticed.
“You need to see someone about your behavior,” he said, his voice lowering. “You are becoming… unusual.”
“I am not losing my mind,” Ice replied, not looking at him.
“From the very beginning it’s been the three of us — you, me, and Kish. We made Omega what it is. But lately…” His jaw tightened. “Lately I feel like you don’t care about your family. Or Omega.”
Ice said nothing. His eyes shifted again — this time glowing faintly red before returning to normal.
Exodus stepped closer, his tone turning persuasive, almost pleading. “Let me run things. Let me sort this out. Look at you. You don’t want the servants cleaning your space. You keep a guard at your door. This isn’t normal.”
Ice stopped walking.
“I may be crazy,” he said quietly, “but not crazy enough to let you turn Omega upside down with your obsession for power.”
Fury flashed across Exodus’s face. He hesitated, then turned and strode toward the door. His hand paused on the handle.
“Father called,” he said without looking back. “He insists on speaking to you.”
Ice didn’t respond.
The door slid shut behind Exodus with a soft mechanical whisper.
Silence settled over the vast room.
Ice remained standing for a long moment, then exhaled and picked up a slim remote from the glass table. He pressed a button.
The main wall screen went dark — then flickered back to life.
ALCAN appeared.
Older. Sharper. His presence filled the screen with quiet menace.
“You look angry,” Alcan observed.
“Exodus tells me you want to talk to me,” Ice replied.
“What are you going to do about this Philip nonsense?”
“I can see you’ve spoken to Exodus,” Ice said flatly. “Is that why you’re stalking me?”
“Stalking?” Alcan’s tone turned icy.
“Uncle, I’m too tired for your games.”
Alcan leaned forward slightly. “Remember, I know everything that happens there.”
“I will deal with Philip.”
“When? He is posing a major threat to our dynasty.”
“Philip is a spoiled brat. No one will take him seriously. But I admit his noise is causing unrest.”
“He is spreading poison,” Alcan said. “He will turn the public against you.”
“I will speak to Robert. He can put sense into his brother.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if that little snake put him up to it.”
Ice frowned. “What do you mean?”
“When you’ve lived as long as I have, you learn to recognize trouble before it becomes trouble.”
“Omega has been running peacefully,” Ice said. “I don’t want to disrupt that harmony with paranoia.”
“The only reason for that peace,” Alcan replied, “is because we do what must be done to eliminate trouble. Don’t forget where your allegiance lies.”
“I have been here for two hundred years,” Ice said quietly. “My loyalty is to Omega. I won’t let paranoia ruin it.”
“That is the price of power,” Alcan said. “Your forefathers worked too hard. I have worked too hard for our legacy to be trampled by a man-child.”
“I will rule my way or—”
“Or what?” Alcan cut in sharply. “You will leave your beloved Omega? Your attachment to that planet is making you forget your home. Your family.”
Ice’s jaw tightened. “I will deal with Philip. Don’t impede.”
“Don’t give me a reason to,” Alcan replied. “Your senseless cousin has already added to our troubles. He had the little swain arrested.”
Rage flickered across Ice’s face, but he forced himself to stay still.
Alcan watched him closely.
“Who’s the human girl?” he asked.
Ice’s voice turned cool. “I thought you knew everything.”
“She looks like the one who created a rift between you and your adopted son.”
Ice’s eyes glistened — not with anger this time, but something far more painful.
And that, more than anything else, was what Alcan noticed.
- Writer
