There was a moment—between consciousness and death—where time lost meaning.
Jihu didn't remember the impact. Only the aftermath.
A low hum echoed through his ears. Soft light filtered behind closed lids. The cold void of space no longer clawed at his skin. He felt… warm. Weighted. Alive.
But he couldn't move.
His vision returned slowly—first in smears of color, then sharp details. A pale metal ceiling, foreign in design. Gentle mechanical whirs in the background. The scent was sterile, laced with something floral and faintly burnt.
His body ached with an intensity that went beyond pain. It was emptiness. Hollow, stripped.
He tried to access his nanobot interface.
Nothing.
> "System Error: No Nanobot Core Detected."
A crushing silence settled into his chest.
Everything that made him powerful—gone. His limbs felt alien, his reflexes dulled. Even his thoughts dragged sluggishly through his mind like they were underwater.
The door to the room hissed open.
She stepped inside like a storm in human form.
Tall. Commanding. Her hair was a deep violet hue that shimmered under the ship's low lighting, pulled back into a high braid that swayed with each step. Her eyes—glacial silver—swept over him like scanning equipment, assessing value, weakness, intent. She wore a skin-tight black suit reinforced at the shoulders and waist with alien alloy plating. Beautiful in a way that could cut you.
Predatory beauty.
She crossed her arms and tilted her head.
"You're awake. Impressive," she said, her voice rich and accented with something unfamiliar. "You shouldn't have survived."
Jihu tried to sit up. Pain answered him.
"Relax," she said, tapping a small control on the wall. "You're not in a condition to move yet."
"Where... am I?"
"Safe. For now. You were floating half-dead outside the Horus Spiral. I was scavenging debris when your life signal blipped. Thought I could get lucky."
He understood instantly.
"You're a salvager."
"Captain," she corrected. "Captain Aris Kaelen of the *Nyx Paradox*. And you, whoever you are, were nearly worthless. Barely clinging to life. No systems left. No active tech in your bloodstream."
She paused, her gaze narrowing.
"Except for your spinal node. Took some effort to rip the rest of the nanotech out before it infected my systems."
Jihu's breath caught.
His body shivered—violated, weakened. His lifeline stripped clean.
Aris leaned closer.
"Don't look at me like that. I saved your life. I even patched you up. Mostly. And once you're stable, well… I'll find a nice, quiet market to sell you off. Should still get a few thousand creds. Pretty face like yours always fetches something."
Jihu stared at her, unblinking. "You plan to sell me into slavery."
"I prefer the term 'strategic asset redistribution.'"
He would've laughed if his lungs didn't hurt.
She straightened and turned away. "Get some rest. We'll land on Virex-3 in twelve hours. Try not to die again before then."
---
### Virex-3
When the ship finally landed, Jihu was escorted—barely conscious—into a biodome that echoed Earth's ecosystems. Cool winds. Verdant forests. Patches of blue sky broken by towering spires of glass and steel.
He saw birds. Not Earth's birds, but close. Heard running water. Smelled dirt and pollen.
It was… familiar. Uncannily so.
And deeply wrong.
The planet mimicked Earth's patterns too perfectly. Like a dream of home distorted by an alien mind.
They placed him in a medical facility run by bio-mechanical attendants. Everything was automated. No freedom. No escape.
He spent hours staring out a window that wasn't real—watching synthetic clouds move across an artificial sky.
Inside, he grieved.
Not for his pride. Not even for the nanobots.
But for the realization that—for the first time—he was truly alone.
No system.
No weapons.
No control.
Only flesh, pain, and memory.
But deep in his chest, a spark flickered.
Not vengeance.
Not yet.
But a question.
**What does a weapon do when it's no longer a weapon?**
The answer, he would find. One breath at a time.
To be continued...