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At breakfast, Iggy told Tenn about Jaxon. He felt the need to tell someone, but the other tributes weren't exactly trustworthy. He'd only said a handful of words to the others; most of his time was spent annoying the old man. Besides, Tenn happened to be the only person he trusted. Being a rebel himself, he'd likely get a kick out of hearing a spy was snooping about.

The Andradan didn't find it amusing. Not even a little bit.

"And you're going to meet him again?" he questioned.

"Er, yeah...?"

"You're even dumber than I thought." Tenn shook his head in disapproval. "You want to make it out this arena alive, yes?" Iggy nodded. "What do you think'll happen if the guards catch you with this 'Jaxon Gunn'?"

The idea of getting caught dawned on him. He hadn't really taken the time to consider it before then. Like always, Tenn had a valid point. His chances of survival went up drastically if he simply kept his head down and stayed out of trouble. And that's exactly what Jaxon Gunn was—trouble.

But that didn't get rid of the rush he felt when they were hiding in that storage closet together. It was risky and exhilarating. Jaxon even matched his wit; not many people could. The adrenaline he felt when they nearly got caught resembled the way he felt whipping around the racetrack in the arena. The sensation was intoxicating to an extent; he craved more. Never had he fallen into the category of a thrill seeker, but something shifted in him when he stepped off The Chryon after it landed on Elysium.

Still, part of him dreaded the next challenge. But another, much smaller part, wanted to hear the crowd chanting his name. He yearned to see his face on the jumbotron in the center of the arena. He'd tasted victory once already. And it tasted sweeter than the fruits from Samghāta*. Suddenly, he scowled and shook his head.

He wasn't here to be their revered champion like the other tributes who won previous games. Like he told Jaxon last night, he wasn't in it for the glory. His goal remained the same: win the games and return home to his mother. That's all he ever wanted. Now wasn't the time to shift gears.

Finally, he nodded at Tenn. "You're right. I don't know what I was thinking."

"I don't either," Tenn quipped. "You don't need to be getting yourself wrapped up in all of that. The rebellion isn't meant for people like you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're not built for it."

"How would you know that? You barely know me, old man."

"I know you, boy. And I know real rebels. You're not them."

But what if I was? He kept that to himself, still processing the blatant dismissal of his character by the Andradan. Now, Iggy wasn't naïve. He knew he wasn't the bravest or the strongest or the smartest person out there, but Tenn's comments punched a massive hole in his ego.

His father got himself tied up in the rebellion. Signs even pointed to him still being alive. From what he remembered about the man, he didn't give off the profile of a traitor to the empire either. His father was a kind, patient person; he didn't have a violent bone in his body. Iggy never even heard him raise his voice.

Actually, that wasn't true.

There was one time, but Iggy did his best to block that memory from his psyche. Every now and then, it permeated its way through the firewall he built, plaguing his thoughts until he forced it back down.

If his father could become a rebel, who said he couldn't? Not that he wanted to. Becoming a fugitive wasn't on his bucket list. But neither was getting shipped to Elysium to fight in the Elysian Games. The universe had plans for him, whether he liked them or not.

Perhaps rendezvousing with Jaxon fell in line with them?

Shaking his head, he dismissed the notion. No, Tenn was right. He needed to steer clear of the rebel spy and focus on the games. That should've been his main—and only—priority. As he ate his breakfast, something else the man said stuck out to him like a beacon shooting through a planet's atmosphere.

"Wait a minute, you said you know real rebels."

"Yes. I do. What about it?"

"It didn't sound like you were including yourself in that category."

Tenn's face held no emotion, but his piercing eyes said everything. "You seem to have this notion that I am what you think I am. Perhaps...you are projecting."

"No, don't gaslight me, old man," Iggy argued. He pointed at the tattoo inked onto the pale skin of the Andradan's neck. "I've seen the symbol. I know what it means. You're a rebel. I know that's what you were arrested for—"

"You know nothing, Iggorii."

"So you keep saying. But I'm pretty sure I'm right about—"

"You. Know. Nothing."

He pursed his lips at the man. "Fine. Enlighten me then."

"No."

"No?"

Tenn slammed his fist onto the table. Iggy flinched and nearly jumped out his seat. Their dishes rattled, earning a few concerned looks from the other tributes in the vicinity. Once the eyes were off them, the man resumed speaking.

"You know nothing about nothing. Not my tattoo, not the empire, and certainly not the rebellion."

"Please, clue me in. Clearly, I have no idea what's going on."

Huffing, Tenn folded his arms across his wide chest. He grumbled something under his breath in his native tongue before averting his gaze back to the olive-skinned boy across from him. Finally, he nodded. "Fine. I'll tell you." He lowered his voice. "But not here."

With that, the two of them cleared their table—returning their used plates and utensils to a machine that sent them to the kitchens—and left the mess hall. They skirted past Elysian guards in the halls, who were in more abundant presence than usual. Iggy barely noticed, though, as Tenn held his attention hostage. They made their way to the training center, which wasn't completely full yet. With Vonn gone, no one else asserted their claim over the area, meaning the tributes didn't have to fight tooth and nail just to get access to a weight bench.

The pair moved into the corner of the room, just out of sight from a camera lurking above their heads. Tenn leaned in close to him. Iggy could smell their morning meal on his breath.

"You want to know about the rebellion, boy?"

"Isn't that why we're here?"

Tenn rolled his eyes before beginning.

"The Elysian Empire has been burning for generations, long before you and I were born. Noblus families won't even venture out Elysium Prime anymore because they fear of getting assassinated."

Iggy swallowed hard as he remembered Moxi Daystar mentioned something about trouble in Sector Two, the planet's capital city.

"Every cycle, more unrest grows throughout their systems, throughout their wonderful empire. Countless anarchist groups have risen. They all fall, only to be replaced by prideful idiots who think they know what's best for the galaxy. You speak about the rebellion as if it's a single entity. That couldn't be farther from the truth. These rebels are unorganized, unpredictable, and reckless. They don't seek change, they seek chaos. They don't have solutions or a plan. They want to let the galaxy continue to burn until there's nothing left but ashes."

Iggy tried to blink away his confusion. When that failed and the dizziness set in, he squeezed his eyes shut. He could feel his brain overheating as it struggled to process all the information thrown at him.

His father, Icarii Amrada, didn't resemble any of the adjectives the Andradan used to describe the rebels. If Tenn was telling the truth, then it made it even harder to believe his father got wrapped up with these people. Then again, Iggy recently started to doubt whether or not he knew the man at all. He'd been ten when his father vanished. A mere child. Perhaps the image in his head didn't mirror the truth.

He shook his head. No, Tenn had to be wrong.

The symbol on Tenn's neck and the pendant in Iggy's pocket belonged to the rebel cause—that's what the Elysian commander who arrested him said. Yet, Tenn continued to deny his involvement with the insurgency. He even talked down on their cause, reducing them to anarchists instead of the revolutionaries others might've seen them as.

Jaxon's memory popped into his head. The blue-eyed spy didn't seem like he wanted to destroy the galaxy. He claimed to be on a mission. That meant he had a leader.

Tenn had to be wrong.

But Iggy barely knew Jaxon. In fact, he didn't know him at all. He still was certain the man's name was fake. His story about being a rebel spy also could've been a lie. He couldn't possibly know the truth.

Not until he spoke with him more.

His head wouldn't stop spinning.

At breakfast, Tenn convinced him to drop the idea to meet with Jaxon. It was good advice. Great, even. But now he wondered if good advice was necessarily the advice he should take.

Since he found those letters in that abandoned workshop in the mines, he wanted answers—answers about his father and why he left. Answers about how the man could abandon his family on a harsh planet where they'd be forced to become slaves to the empire.

Angry tears welled in his eyes. His hands shook too hard for him to wipe them away properly. Tenn peered at him with caution, his head upturned slightly.

"I didn't mean to upset you, Iggorii," he said softly.

He looked away from the man. "If you're not a rebel, what are you?"

For the first time ever, he spotted a new emotion on Tenn's face. It wasn't anger or annoyance like usual. It was fear. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

"Why won't you tell me?!"

Tenn immediately clamped a hand over his mouth before throwing his gaze toward the door of the training center. No one came rushing through the entrance. They were still alone.

"Keep your voice down, boy—"

"No, I'm tired of all this secrecy from you. I just want one person I can trust." Iggy wiped a tear from his cheek and scowled. "Just one. Is that too much to ask for? I couldn't trust my mining partner to not rat me out for a few credits. I couldn't trust my mother to tell me the truth about my father. I couldn't trust Commander Victorus to do the right thing and let me go." His fists shook at his side. "And now I can't trust you."

Tenn lifted his chin. "Iggorii, I'm the only person on this entire planet you can trust."

"How do I know that? You won't even tell me why you got arrested!"

"I can't tell you!"

Iggy staggered backward until his back hit the wall. "What?"

"I can't tell you," he repeated. "I won't say any more than that. It's for your own good. Trust me."

That was a tall order.

Tenn had his secrets. Iggy did too. The old man had the right to keep them close to his chest. He also made a great point. So far, Ohr-Yahn Tennic from Galenrad in the Cadmus Rift was the only trustworthy person he'd met in a long time. The man saved his life and took him under his wing. That counted for something, and he'd never forget it.

His anger tightened his muscles. His jaw had been clenched so tight it nearly snapped. Almost like how he'd just snapped at Tenn. Rubbing the back of his neck, he hung his head and let out a breath. "I'm sorry," he muttered. "I'm just...I'm confused and I'm scared and...I'm angry!" He threw his hands up. "I'm so angry all the time! I'm angry with this place, these games, my father... I'm angry with everything and I don't know what to do."

More of his tears fell. But these weren't full of pent-up fury like the others. These consisted of all the sadness he hid within that rage-fueled fire burning inside him. Left unchecked, it would destroy him. He couldn't—no, he wouldn't let it.

Arigoriis were beings of peace, forgiveness, and tranquility. He might not have grown up on his homeworld, but his people's culture and customs forever lived in his heart. The empire couldn't take that from him no matter what they did.

Tenn placed a hand on his shoulder. "You and I are more alike than you'll ever know, Iggorii. I was like you at your age. Just...young and angry at the universe. At the empire. At the gods I used to pray to. But you cannot let that rage control you. Once it does, you've lost. You can't let the empire break you because trust me, they will try. Too many people have been broken down by those meant to lead them. Far too many."

Sniffling, he nodded. Tenn was right. "I won't let them break me," he promised.

"I know you won't."

Then he did something unexpected. Something Iggy would've never seen coming.

The old man hugged him.

Iggy went stiff, his eyes bulging out of his head. It didn't take long for him to relax into the man's touch. He hadn't hugged anyone since leaving his mother. In fact, she'd been the only person to hug him for as long as he could remember. Closing his eyes, he wrapped his arms around Tenn. He smiled.

For the first time since leaving Novr, he felt loved.

#

Iggy's heart-to-heart with Tenn was interrupted by an announcement via the arena's intercom system. All tributes were required to meet in the training center. Within ten minutes, the once-empty room was filled with the remaining survivors of the Elysian Games. Moments later, Moxi Daystar, Ivy Brightway, and a few other reporters donning outfits in pastel colors walked through the doors. Guards entered behind them to secure the entrance.

Ivy shot Iggy a knowing smile before joining her fellow Elysians at the screens on the other side of the room. He simply watched her with a blank stare the entire time.

While he did tell Tenn about Jaxon, he hadn't yet mentioned Ivy's proposal. He already knew what the Andradan would say. While his viewpoint on the matter certainly was valid, Iggy couldn't help but wonder if the woman truly wanted to help him get his story out there. The smart part of his brain told him no. Elysians—especially those affiliated with any of the twelve Noblus families—loved manipulating and taking advantage of people. He'd only ever met one Noblus, but he knew they were all the same.

Ivy Brightway would have to prove herself.

But how else could she if he didn't take her up on her offer?

Shaking his head, he pushed the thought away and focused on Moxi Daystar at the front of the room. His grating voice filled the training center.

"In addition to the new format of the games, our gamemakers thought it'd be a good idea to innovate our media presence. We're talking interviews, commercials, etcetera etcetera."

Iggy blanched. He immediately looked to Ivy, who shrugged with faux ignorance. He squinted at her. Yesterday, she'd given him a choice to let her tell his story. Now, he wasn't sure he had much of a say in the matter. Of course, he could've declined to answer any of her questions, but something told him that wouldn't go over well with Moxi and the gamemakers.

He looked to Tenn. The man wasn't particularly jazzed about potentially having to open up to anyone—especially these skeevy-looking reporters.

Moxi clapped his hands together. "Today, we'll start with your thoughts on yesterday's opening day. Surely you all have much to say." He then instructed the guards to move the tributes into the groups he'd created for them. About a dozen of the game's participants were paired with a reporter, who'd then take them to a separate part of the arena to conduct the interviews.

Iggy and Tenn were never placed in a group.

They were left in the middle of the floor watching everyone else leave. Soon, the only other people who remained in the training center were Moxi, Ivy, and two other guards. Iggy peered at the blond reporter curiously.

"As head of the sports and entertainment division, Ms. Brightway wanted the opportunity to interview the both of you separately," Moxi explained.

Ivy beamed at them both. "I can't wait to speak with you two."

Tenn scowled at her. Iggy did his best to keep his expression neutral.

Ignoring their obvious discomfort, Moxi motioned for them both to lighten up. "C'mon, it'll be fun! The audience'll take a liking to the both of you, especially after the next challenge. You'd be smart to let Ivy cover you. She's the best storyteller on the entire planet." The woman pushed her glasses up her nose, smiling at the purple-haired man gratuitously.

Iggy and Tenn exchanged wary glances before sighing in unison.

"Fine," the old man grumbled. He stomped toward the exit of the room. "Let's get this over with."



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