She scrolled through the pages until the part whereCypherfilled her hologram screen and stared at his picture.
A lump formed in her throat. Vee swallowed thickly.
‘We want you to have a partner, and not just any partner, but one unique enough to draw the crowds.’
‘A partner? But I’m known for not having a partner...’
‘A Cyborg. One we produced, named Cypher.’
Her mouth dropped open. ‘What?’
‘Consider it a marketing ploy, a way to represent my kind in a good light while you get to achieve your dreams. People see Cyborgs as nothing more than war heroes, cold machines. We need to show them that we’re more.’ He sighed. ‘Again.’
And that explained why Nightheart and the EPED cared at all about her and the championship.
Vee suspected she knew why he wanted positive PR.
Cyborgs had come under attack after a rogue one—one who worked directly for the EPED—kidnapped a human woman and child from the planet Kepler. It was all over the interstellar news. Public opinion on the once-great heroes has since been at an all-time low, the lowest since their first emergence during the Great Galactic War.
Terraform championships were watched by hundreds of millions, and not just hundreds of millions, but by Trentian aliens as well, scholars, politicians, and industry experts. People who had a voice, who could sway public opinion. A Cyborg player would look good for them.
Now she was going to be thrust into the political mess by impersonating a made-up one. Confidentially of course.
Three million credits. Three million credits, and my dreams.
When she asked Nightheart what she was going to do during the championship—because she couldn’t be two people at once—he told her:
‘We’ll take care of it.’
Ooookay. Were they going to create an android lookalike?
Was that cheating? She had no idea, but there weren’t human and machine stipulations on who could compete, and androids have been on teams before. As long as the android wasn’t the team leader and not the decision-maker, it was okay.
Only Trentians and half-breeds couldn’t compete.
She inhaled and studied this Cypher some more.
Could he look any more like a Viking?Vee rolled her eyes. Still, he was handsome—this made-up man—and that made her uncomfortable.At least he’s not real. They probably couldn’t pay a Cyborg enough to accompany me to the championship.
Or play in the championship at all.
Even with their current tenuous reputation, they were still fabled war heroes. Fantasies made flesh. Only a thousand or so existed throughout the universe. Not only were they otherworldly with superhero-like abilities, but they were also incredibly rare.
And incredibly strong and incredibly deadly.They lived long lives, were exceptionally hard to kill, and were enhanced with the finest technology humans had ever created.
We made gods.
Literal, breathing gods.
Hecking heroes.
Meeting one was an honor…A scary honor.Nightheart unnerved her, but the one in the image—Cypher—appeared way more intense.
Vee sighed. Not having experience with men in the slightest, how was she going to pretend to be a burly, badass-looking, should-be-in-a-romantic-movie power-wielding giant? She rubbed her lips in thought. The digital specs didn’t say how tall he was, but he appeared to be tall…
He had long, messy brown hair, scruffy facial hair, and pale beige eyes, so bright they were inhuman. His frame was big and brawny, and muscles hinted at beneath his tight clothes were large enough to tear the fabric if he flexed too hard. He could’ve been a warrior berserker or a bodybuilder.
Whoever came up with his design must’ve been a woman. Her throat tightened at the thought. Heat fluttered in her belly. A woman with a singular, raw fantasy: the need for a man that was more than one of those stringy alley dwellers in the city below. Something better than those wearing old leather and rusty facial piercings. A man that didn’t reek of smog and dried sweat, or had the cool aura of the military.
