Wanderer Ch 29: Looking For A Way Out, The Orange Prison!

Pain.

It was relentless, coursing through me like rivers of molten metal. The wires biting into my skin felt as if they were alive, draining me with every second, sapping the energy that had always been mine—boundless, infinite, cosmic. Now? I could feel myself diminishing. Dying by degrees.

My head throbbed with the ache of powerlessness as I tried to move. Just to shift my arm, to free even a finger. The bindings only tightened, holding me in place against the cold, black hull of the massive ship. My pride burned hotter than the pain.

I turned my head—or at least I tried to. The movement was sluggish, every muscle screaming in protest. When my vision cleared, I could see her. Eclipsa.

She was bound just as I was, her pale skin marred by the same glowing wires that kept me trapped. Her head was slumped forward, her long hair falling like a dark veil around her face. The sight of her—my sister, the fiercest of us, reduced to this—sent a fresh wave of fury crashing through me.

Eclipsa wasn't supposed to look like that. She wasn't supposed to be weak. And yet, here she was, unconscious and vulnerable, her power fading as mine was. It was the first time I'd ever seen her in such a state, and it made my blood boil.

"This will not stand," I hissed through gritted teeth, though no one could hear me.

My pride, my anger, my very nature refused to accept this. I was Thalassa, daughter of the cosmos, born from the heart of collapsing stars. To be captured—bound—by such tiny creatures, such insignificant beings, was an insult I would not abide.

When I got free—and I would get free—there would be consequences. I would find the one responsible, and I would bring him low. Oh, I wouldn't kill him. That would be too easy, too quick. No, his punishment would be long and excruciating. He would suffer through a lifetime of torment, and I would ensure he never found the release of death. That was my right. That was my gift.

But for now, I needed to focus. No amount of rage or defiance would break these bindings. My strength alone wasn't enough—not when this ship was siphoning it away with every moment that passed. If I was going to escape, I needed help.

Closing my eyes, I focused what little energy I had left. It was a precarious task; the ship drained my power so quickly that I barely had enough to form coherent thought, let alone reach beyond this accursed hull. But I had to try.

I let my mind drift, reaching outward into the cosmos. The stars themselves were faint and distant, their light dimmed by whatever strange energy this ship was using to contain me. It made the task infinitely harder, but I pressed on, forcing my will outward.

"Sisters..." I whispered into the void.

It was barely a flicker of thought, the smallest thread of energy weaving through the vastness of space. I didn't even know if it would reach anyone. If one of them was too far away, or if this cursed ship's power was too strong, my plea would be lost.

"Help," I sent, the word echoing weakly in the dark. "I'm trapped... Eclipsa is trapped. They're draining us. Please..."

The effort left me drained, and for a moment, I thought I might slip into unconsciousness myself. But I held on. I had to.

As I let the faint message float into the cosmos, I turned my focus back to the ship, to the wires that bound me. They pulsed with a sickly red light, each pulse stealing a part of me. The design was clever, I had to admit, though that only made me despise it more.

How had these creatures managed this? How had they developed something capable of containing me and Eclipsa? It was inconceivable. The idea that such small, insignificant beings could rise to this level of audacity—to think they could challenge us—was almost laughable. Almost.

"Enjoy your victory while it lasts," I muttered, my voice barely audible. "Because it won't last."

My strength was ebbing, my vision blurring. I could feel the pull of unconsciousness, as relentless as the ship's energy drain. But I refused to give in. I clung to my anger, to my pride, to the faint hope that my message would reach one of my sisters.

The cosmos had always been vast and uncaring, but it was also connected. I had to believe that connection would save us.

And when it did, when I was free of this wretched ship, there would be consequences.

***

(Jack)

The orange glow of the bars burned into my retinas as I sat slumped in the corner of the cell. It wasn't a physical burn—not heat, not fire—but something about the light felt oppressive, suffocating. It was almost alive, buzzing faintly like it knew I was trapped and was reveling in it.

I ran my fingers through my hair, tugging at the roots in frustration. "Dammit," I muttered, my voice echoing off the cold, black walls. "What am I going to do?"

The cell was small, just big enough for me to stretch my legs if I wanted, but there wasn't much point. The floor was hard, the air stale, and every now and then, the orange bars seemed to hum louder, like they were mocking me. Escape felt impossible.

I leaned my head back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling. I couldn't even tell if there was a ceiling, to be honest—the glow from the bars seemed to stretch endlessly, swallowing everything else in the room.

For a while, I just sat there, letting the silence press down on me. My thoughts drifted to Thalassa. That colossal woman—no, that thing—who had turned my life upside down in the blink of an eye. I'd hated her at first. How could I not? She'd hunted me like I was some kind of cosmic prize, chasing me through the galaxy, all for answers I didn't even have.

But now? Now I wasn't so sure.

She'd looked at me with something... different. Not malice, exactly. Maybe desperation? Or maybe curiosity. It was hard to tell with someone whose face was the size of a small moon. She'd spoken like I was important, like I held the key to something greater than myself. But what could I possibly have that she didn't? She was... everything. A walking, breathing embodiment of cosmic power, and I was just some guy from Earth who happened to invent the wrong—or maybe the right—ship.

I shook my head. Could her words be true?

What if she wasn't lying? What if there were others like her—others who would stop at nothing to get to me? The thought made my stomach churn. Thalassa had been terrifying enough, but at least she'd been... restrained, in her own way. If there were others—others who wouldn't hesitate to tear me or my planet apart—what the hell was I supposed to do?

My chest tightened. I pictured Earth, my home, the people I'd left behind. The cities, the landscapes, the laughter, the arguments—all of it felt so far away now. And if Thalassa was right, it might as well have been another universe.

I couldn't go back. Not like this. Not when I'd already seen what just one of these beings could do. Thalassa could destroy a planet without even trying, and she wasn't even the worst of them. What chance did Earth have against a fleet of them?

"Dammit," I whispered again, burying my face in my hands.

The bars buzzed louder, like they were feeding off my despair. I glared at them, the glow casting harsh shadows across my face.

"I'm not staying here," I growled, forcing myself to stand. My legs ached, my body felt heavy, but I refused to sit there and wallow any longer.

I walked up to the bars, staring into the orange glow. Up close, I could see the faint patterns etched into the surface—symbols, maybe runes, pulsing faintly like a heartbeat. I reached out to touch them, but the moment my fingers got too close, a sharp jolt of energy shot through the air, forcing me back.

"Of course," I muttered, shaking out my hand. "Why would it be easy?"

I started pacing, my mind racing. There had to be a way out of this. There was always a way out. That's what they taught us in training—no situation is ever hopeless. But this? This was pushing the limits of my optimism.

I stopped pacing and leaned against the far wall, my eyes flicking back to the bars. Beyond them, the faint hum of the ship's systems was the only sound. I didn't even know where I was—somewhere deep in space, obviously, but how far from Earth? How far from Thalassa and her sister?

The thought of her—of both of them—made my chest tighten again. They'd been captured, taken by whoever these people were. And for what? To be studied? Experimented on? I didn't like Thalassa, not really, but she didn't deserve that. No one did.

I couldn't shake the image of her face from my mind, the way she'd looked down at me just before losing consciousness. For a moment, I'd seen something... human. A flicker of fear, of desperation. It wasn't what I'd expected from someone so powerful, someone so far beyond me.

But then again, maybe that's why it stuck with me. Because if even she could feel fear, what did that mean for the rest of us?

I sighed, running a hand through my hair again. "Focus, Jack," I muttered to myself. "Worry about getting out of here first. Then you can figure out how to not die horribly in the void of space."

Easier said than done.

I glanced around the cell, looking for anything—anything—that might give me an edge. The walls were smooth and black, the floor cold and unyielding. No vents, no hidden panels, no weak points that I could see.

But there had to be something. No one built a perfect prison.

"Think, dammit," I whispered, clenching my fists.

The glow of the bars pulsed again, almost mockingly. I stared at them, my mind racing. There had to be a way to disrupt them, to short them out or overload whatever system was powering them.

I just needed to figure out how.