My own name.

  Adamus reminds himself again and again, I can’t even use my own name.

  He can’t help but wonder who it is on Tethaseele that is pretending to be him.

  How easy was it for that impostor to step into his shoes?

  Did they want to be him, or did Vanessa simply hire an actor?

  Did they wear the Division crown? Were they Emperor for a day before they surrendered the Atheneum family legacy?

  Did they even know his Father?

  Did they know Davon? Did they practice their prayers to the Gods with him?

  Did their Father read to them and tell them stories of war?

  Did they run through the halls of the Division Pza with a py-sword in hand, dreaming of being a valiant soldier?

  Was burning alive as a shadowy woman watched their first memory as well?

  Whatever the case, Adamus knows one thing: whoever they are, they’re certainly in a far better pce than I am right now.

  The crowded wagon jolts on the unsteady road. The snoring head of the rge man who stood behind him in line for prisoner processing slumps on his shoulder. Snot and saliva drips onto Adamus’s worn tunic. He rolls his eyes at the rge man and attempts to push him away, only for him to fall back on his shoulder.

  Kiren smiles at the sight.

  “What are you looking at?” Adamus huffs at the young girl, wrapped in her Father’s arms.

  “Do all Emperors make good pillows for fat men?” She holds back ughter as Marqus scolds her, “Kiren…”

  “No,” Adamus raises a hand, “No, she’s right…” He sighs, gncing at the snoring fat men resting on his shoulder and the dozens of other men and women crammed inside the wagon with only one Officer to watch over all of them.

  “Maybe a pillow for fat men is all I’m good for,” Adamus looks back to Marqus and Kiren as he says the words. His gaze holds on Kiren in particur.

  She’s a child, Adamus thinks with a heavy heart, Gods, she’s only a child.

  Kiren was the only one in the Biotransport who tried to put up a fight once the Republic Officers boarded the ship.

  When the walls were split open by the Symbiotic tendrils, Kiren had rushed forward and kicked the knee of the first Officer through the door. It was then that she saw just how many Officers there were.

  The entire group was quickly surrounded.

  Marqus’s bde was confiscated as the Officers restrained everyone. Adamus was actually grateful for the ropes that were tied around his wrists. It has made pushing down the beast less of a hassle.

  The group arrived on the pnet sooner than Adamus had expected, but Symbiotic Republic ships are fast after all. And once they did nd, the Officers spent no time waiting around. Adamus and his new friends, although he isn’t sure if he can call them that, were lumped into line with hundreds of other prisoners of all shapes, sizes, and species from all across the universe.

  Then he was told that someone had stolen his name.

  Adamus boils at the thought again but takes soce in the fact that, somehow, the four of them, by whatever twisted miracle, have managed to wind up in the same wagon together.

  Jasper’s grunt of pain reminds them all of that fact.

  Leo leans over Jasper to tend to his broken leg. Nothing has been done to heal the bone or even set it.

  Very little can even be done about it now, considering that Jasper has very little leg room. The tails of two bulky Squideels sit in front of him. The tip of one is on his foot.

  Jasper can only grip his fracture in pain as Leo pces his hands on it.

  “Will that even do anything?” Jasper asks. Leo gres at him and removes his palms from Jasper’s leg. “How does it feel when I stop?”

  Jasper grunts again, “Still feels broken to me.”

  He should be more courteous. Leo’s hands are soft and warm.

  Jasper wants those hands right now, more than anything. But he’s in far too much pain. Just like he was the st time that they spoke. The st time they—

  “Leonidas, about that kiss…” Jasper fights through agony to say the words.

  Leo cuts him off before he can say anything else, “You’re going through a lot. You still are. And from the looks of things… You still will be. Jasper, I love you, don’t get me wrong, but… ” Leo’s previously collected voice becomes a low mumble. “You and I both know that it would be wrong to get back together now. Not like this. Not like… Well, whatever it was that happened back when we were riding to the Spaceport.”

  Jasper can only nod in response to Leo’s words.

  He’s lost Valerie, lost his aunt and uncle, lost Helga, and lost everyone else he’s known.

  He can’t lose Leo.

  He can’t.

  He would be fine with losing Adamus, though. The idiot is sitting right beside him, watching him and Leo. “Can I ask you two a question?”

  Jasper gres at Adamus. If he weren’t in so much pain, he’d rip out Adamus’s tongue before he could spew any more nonsense. Leo is much more forgiving, though, “That depends,” he sighs, “Is it reted to the private conversation we were having?”

  Adamus smirks. If this wagon weren’t so cramped, he’d have ughed. “No, no. It’s just something else I’ve noticed.”

  “What?” Jasper groans. Whatever observation Adamus has made is bound to be something annoyingly obvious. Jasper can’t help but consider that Adamus may have only just now realized that he and Leo are, or rather were, in a retionship.

  “Well,” Adamus begins, “I’m just kinda curious what your actual name is, Leo? Leonidas? What do I call you? I’ve heard you use both. You said your name was Leo back when you had to give it to the Officer back there, but you seemed to bnk when asked about a st name. That, and out of all people, Jasper seems to only call you Leonidas, but Kiren and Marqus both call you Leo. What’s up with that?”

  Leo tilts his head back with a wide smile, “Huh,” he chuckles. “That’s more than just ‘a question’ y’know.”

  Adamus grins, “Yeah, but I’m bored, come on, Leonidas Leo, humor me.”

  “Alright, but only because you asked nicely,” Leo goes on to expin that, “Leo is the closest thing that I have to a real name. Mainly because it’s the name that most people call me by. An old book I used to have mentioned that Leo was some sort of consteltion named after a monster that died out long before humanity even met the Martians.”

  “So your parents didn’t name you then? Or are you an orphan?”

  Jasper answers Adamus’s question for Leo, “He is an orphan, but his Father was also named something like that.”

  “At least I think so,” Leo sneers, “I don't know much about my parents. They could have died in the war for all I know. But what I do know for a fact is that I grew up in that vilge with Jasper, his sister Valerie, and plenty of other wonderful people who all called me Leo for whatever reason.”

  Adamus’s curiosity has been firmly seized. “Well, who raised you then? And what’s the deal with the Leonidas stuff?”

  “The Leonidas addition is a bit of an inside joke, Jasper and I have. You see, the first Division Emperor was named Mag… nus, right? And after him came Gel… midas, and now you, Adam… us.” Leo ughs, “The point is that the st letters of a name seem to bear some kind of odd universal importance, and I’m retively unimportant all things considered, being an orphan and a street urchin and all that, which leads me to the point that no one person raised me. I just floated around that vilge my whole life. Occasionally, I did try to attend schooling, but beyond reading and writing I picked up very little. Well, I guess I also learned history. I love history.”

  That’s a sad life, Adamus thinks to himself, but he also considers just how content Leo seems to be with his circumstances and how he’s been handling all this chaos surprisingly well.

  He can’t help but be reminded of Cassandra. She was another unimportant, lowly commoner who somehow chanced into importance and into meeting him.

  The main difference between them is that Cassandra saw me as some spoiled brat, and this group sees me as the heir to the Division. Is one of those true, or are neither of them? The thoughts sicken Adamus. Thankfully, he doesn’t get much time to dwell on them.

  The wagon has reached its destination.

  The prisoners all mumble and murmur amongst themselves, even more so than they did on the road. The mumbles turn to full chatter as the Officer standing within the wagon steps out and yanks the first prisoner to their feet. Two other Officers appear at the end of the wagon, the coachmen, no doubt. Then four more Officers join in. They force all the prisoners within the wagon to their feet and line them up in the mud.

  Jasper stumbles on his broken leg as an Officer sps his back. “Cripple,” The man calls out, “We have our first cripple!”

  Another Republic Officer steps forward and snatches Jasper.

  Leo locks eyes with him as he’s pulled into a separate line.

  Jasper bites his lip before whispering, “I’ll find you.”

  Leo smirks, “You better.”

  Once Jasper is isoted from the group, he finds himself in line with a wide assortment of malnourished adults, disfigured veterans, and many others who all seem to have at least one impairment or another.

  It is then that Marqus shouts, “Jasper!” His harsh voice cracks, “You watch her, understand! Promise me you’ll look after her!”

  Kiren is pushed into Jasper’s broken leg. She’s crying but trying to be strong. Either that or she’s lost her voice.

  Her mouth hangs agape as Marqus calls again, “Be there for her, Jasper. Please protect Kiren for—” A Republic Officer rams his fist into Marqus’s stomach, silencing him.

  Jasper doesn’t know what to say. Kiren isn’t looking at him. Her eyes are still on her Father, weeping as he’s lurched to his feet and shoved back in line.

  As Adamus watches the scene unfold, the beast twists inside his arms. He could do something about all this. Yet he may just as well kill them by doing such.

  Still, his heart aches.

  Adamus remembers being Kiren’s age, and he knows how much being ripped from his Father would have broken him back then. Much in the same way that Gelmidas’s death has already broken him and the whole universe.

  Adamus’s line is the first to march toward the mountainous bricks of cement in the distance.

  The prison is nearly the same size that the Coliseum in Rome was. The only difference is that it is made up of several buildings rather than just the one. But much like the Coliseum, lines upon lines of warm bodies all march into it for a single unified purpose.

  “YOU’LL BE SORTED BY GENDER, SPECIES, AND OFFENSE ONCE YOU MAKE IT INSIDE,” A legion of Officers all unanimously yell the rehearsed words to their respective lines.

  “ONCE YOU ENTER, YOU WILL BE PUT TO WORK. WORK FOR THE REPUBLIC. WORK IS HOW YOU EARN YOUR FREEDOM. WORK IS HOW YOU SERVE YOUR SENTENCE. THERE ARE NO EXECUTIONS. THERE ARE NO SENTENCE EXTENSIONS. THIS IS MERCY. WORK IS MERCY. MERCY IS FREEDOM.”

  Adamus wants to ugh just as much as he wants to let the beast out. Typical capitalists. Work to earn your freedom and not work to serve your people. From what Davon told me, if Magnus Ohavim were still alive, he would have had a lot to say right about now…

  Adamus hangs his head high as the line marches on.

  Very well, He smugly smiles to himself. I’ll serve out my sentence. I’ll py your little game, but when the time is right, and I’m all alone, I’ll let loose my bothersome little pet, and after that…

  He clutches a fist.

  I’ll go to Tethaseele and kill Vanessa Soryu, along with the imposter who’s stolen my name.

  Once all the other lines of prisoners have been led away, Jasper stands beside Kiren in pain.

  This line of the encumbered seems to have been left to rot.

  That is, until the Republic Officers left behind draw their swords.

  Kiren looks up at Jasper, and he looks down at her.

  The two break off into a run as fast as they can manage as the killing starts.

  Those still in line are forced to their knees as blood spills from their necks.

  One Officer stops to wipe his bde when he spies Jasper tripping on the dry soil.

  He nds ft on his face, his leg still screaming in agony. Kiren grips his hand and tries to lift him to his feet, but her palm suddenly slips out of his.

  Jasper hears rapid footsteps, yet his gsses are far too stained with dirt to make anything out.

  Something approaches him from behind.

  The wind cracks over his head, splitting as sharp stone swings downward.