The guards obey. The moment the cuffs release, the current burns across my skin, leaving bright lines of pain down my wrists.
“Human Eve Eden,” Gai announces, his voice carrying easily through the silence. “You were granted shelter and leniency following your sentence at the Intergalactic Court. Yet you have chosen sabotage. You corrupted safety protocols, endangered personnel, and attempted escape.”
“I only wanted?—”
“Silence.” He gestures to the cage and the floor panel slides open. The device rises: a glass cylinder large enough for one person, its inner walls traced with faint circuitry. The guards lift me inside. The floor seals beneath my feet with a hiss.
Gai approaches the control console. “The Scorn’s Cage is both discipline and education. It teaches sincerity through repetition.” He touches the panel. The glass flares with pale light, wrapping me in its glow.
“Eve Eden, confess.”
I swallow. “I… attempted to escape.”
The cage hums.Insincere.A shock lances through my legs and up my spine. I cry out before I can stop myself. The pain is intense and lingers hotly like being burned.
“Again,” he says, perfectly calm.
“I tried to escape.”
Insincere.The current hits harder. My knees buckle, but the field holds me upright.
“Again.”
My voice breaks. “I wanted to go home to Earth. I wanted to forget all of this. All of you. I wanted this all to be a terrible nightmare that I woke up from.”
The light flickers crimson, then steadies.Acknowledged.
“Better,” Gai says. “Now tell us what you have learned.”
“I learned—” I force the rest out. “This is my home. The Obsidian Palace.”
The field hums approvingly.
“Exactly,” he says. “You were reborn here. You belong here. Remember that. You will stand for one full day inside as your punishment for trying to escape.”
The cage dims but remains sealed. And I watch as everyone leaves the Hall of Judgement.
Hours pass, or maybe minutes. Time in the cage stretches and folds. Every time I try to fall asleep, the cage shocks me and makes me repeat my sins. Again and again, for an entire day that feels like a week.
When the release finally clicks, I’m delusional. I don’t know if I’m just imagining my freedom from the cage or if it’s actually real. But when I step out onto the stone floor, my legs falter and I fall to my knees. Then I begin to cry. My howls echoing off the walls.
How did I get here?
Suddenly, Autumn appears out of nowhere, and helps me to my feet.
“Is it really you?” I ask, my voice hoarse.
“Yes, I’m real. I didn’t want to leave you here all night. I figured if I didn’t come, you’d do exactly what you’re doing right now, and then just sleep on the floor.” She helps me remain upright, and we start walking slowly back to our room.
“How many times have you been punished in that medieval sci-fi device?” I ask, realizing Autumn might not have always been as obedient as she is now.
“Too many times to count, but never enough. That’s the trick here. Don’t let the punishments become addictive.”
“Addicted to punishment?”
“Yes,” she says, pushing the door to our room open. “Sometimes pain is the only reminder that I’m real, that I’m seen, and I crave the attention and authenticity of it, like a thirsty man in the desert. The pain lessens the potency of the goddess’ milk. Old memories will become sharp again.”
Once in our room, Autumn helps me to my mat and gives me a glass of water.
