Life on the Princess Andromeda was nothing like what I had expected.
When I joined Kronos’s army, I thought I was stepping into something grand, something full of purpose. But the reality was far different. The ship wasn’t just a weapon; it was a prison. Not for the crew—but for me.
The hours blended together in a haze of dark corridors, the sound of creaking wood, and the steady thrum of the engines beneath my feet. The atmosphere was suffocating, a constant reminder that I had no way out. I wasn’t free. I was a cog in a machine that was constantly turning, grinding down anything in its path.
The crew was ruthless, each member more like a shadow than a person. They had all pledged loyalty to Kronos, but there was something else in their eyes—a hunger, an emptiness that seemed to reach down into their souls. They weren’t like me. They didn’t care about right or wrong. They had already abandoned those concepts a long time ago.
The worst part? I was starting to feel like them.
The more time I spent on this ship, the more I realized that Luke wasn’t just the leader of this rebellion—he was the heart of it. He didn’t need to say much to command respect. His presence was enough. When he walked into a room, everyone paid attention. Even the most hardened of soldiers looked up to him, and they feared him.
I used to think I could hide in the shadows, remain a neutral player in this game. But that illusion didn’t last long.
It was a few days after I had joined when Luke came to me.
I was standing by the rail, staring out at the ocean, my thoughts a thousand miles away. The sound of the waves was strangely comforting—until it wasn’t. The sense of being trapped was worse out here, surrounded by nothing but water and sky. There was no escape.
“Come with me,” Luke’s voice broke through my thoughts.
I turned to face him, my stomach tightening. There was something in his eyes, something cold and calculating.
“I’ve got something for you to do,” he said, his lips curling into that dangerous smirk. “I think you’re ready.”
I didn’t ask what he meant. I didn’t have to. There was only one thing that Luke needed from me.
He led me below deck, down a narrow corridor to a small room that smelled like sweat and fear. Inside, a man was chained to a chair, his face bruised and battered. His eyes were wide with terror, and he trembled as he looked up at me. His clothes were torn, and he had the unmistakable look of someone who had been tortured before.
I swallowed hard, but I didn’t back away. I had come here for this. I had chosen this path.
“Meet our little problem,” Luke said casually, as if he were introducing me to a pet. “This man has been giving us trouble. He’s a spy for the gods.”
The man’s eyes widened further, and he sputtered, trying to form words between his gasps for breath. “I—I’m not—!”
Luke raised a hand, silencing him instantly. “I don’t care. You’re going to help us find out everything he knows.”
He turned to me, his golden eyes glowing with something almost predatory. “Nixie. I want you to do the honors.”
I froze. The words didn’t quite register at first. I had thought Luke would ask someone else. Someone more experienced, more ruthless. But I wasn’t going to back down now. Not in front of him.
I nodded slowly, my mind racing as I moved forward.
The man in the chair was still struggling, still trying to fight, but there was nothing left in him to fight with. His spirit was broken. He looked at me with wide, pleading eyes, but there was no escape from what was about to happen.
Luke’s voice was low, almost a whisper. “You’re stronger than you think, Nixie. You’re more like us than you realize.”
The words lingered in the air, settling in my chest like a weight. They should have been comforting, but instead, they gnawed at me. My fingers trembled as I reached for the small dagger at my side.
I didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to hurt anyone, let alone torture someone in cold blood. But this was what I had chosen, wasn’t it? This was my place now. And in this world, I couldn’t afford weakness.
I could feel Luke’s gaze on me, and I knew he was watching, waiting for me to prove myself.
The man’s cries filled the room, but I couldn’t stop. The words I wanted to say, the ones that begged for mercy, stuck in my throat. I had to do this. I had to.
The dagger felt like an extension of myself as I used it to carve into the man’s skin. The blood spilled freely, and the sound of it hitting the stone floor made my stomach churn. His screams grew louder, but I couldn’t bring myself to stop. I was doing this to survive, right?
But with each cut, each scream, something inside me was breaking.
I could feel the darkness rising, a storm inside my chest that threatened to consume me. The line between right and wrong was becoming blurry, like I was losing myself in the blood and the terror.
Was this who I was now? A monster?
I tried to focus on the task at hand, but the man’s face—the fear in his eyes—stayed with me. His pleas didn’t stop. They echoed in my mind even after I turned away.
Luke was pleased. I could see it in his eyes as he looked at me. His smirk widened.
“Well done,” he said, his voice dripping with approval. “You’ve got potential.”
I couldn’t bring myself to meet his gaze. Instead, I focused on the man in the chair, still trembling, still alive—barely.
I had crossed a line. A line I couldn’t come back from.
As I left the room, my heart was heavy. I had done what was expected of me, but it didn’t feel like a victory. It felt like I had lost something. Something I couldn’t get back.
And as I walked down the dark corridor, the sound of the man’s screams still ringing in my ears, I couldn’t help but wonder: how much of myself would I have to destroy to become the person Luke wanted me to be?
I didn’t know the answer. But I knew one thing for sure: I wasn’t the same person who had stepped onto this ship a few days ago.
And I wasn’t sure if I ever would be again.
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