Chapter 11

The clatter of empty plates echoed faintly in the cavernous room, a stark contrast to the simmering unease that had settled over the group. Syn leaned back against the invisible wall of the forcefield, its faint hum a relentless reminder of his predicament. The lunch—a rare moment of camaraderie laced with barbs—had ended, but the air still crackled with the weight of their shared history.

Vera lounged on the sofa, her purple hair spilling over the cushions like a spilled secret, while Pako sprawled across the enormous red bed, picking at her teeth with a fork. Aster sat upright, her blonde ponytail swaying slightly as she cracked her knuckles, her eyes darting between Syn and Vera with a mix of curiosity and suspicion.

Finally, Syn broke the silence, his voice steady but edged with resolve. "You won't get anything from me by locking me up here. So I guess it'd be better if everyone minded their own business. I won't betray the Kingdom."

The words hung heavy, a gauntlet thrown into the room. Aster's brow arched, and she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "Hmm… isn't that what you said to us too?" Her tone was sharp, a blade wrapped in velvet, her gaze piercing through the forcefield to pin him where he sat.

Pako's head snapped up, a mischievous grin curling her lips. She sat up, crossing her legs with exaggerated flair, and mimicked Syn's voice in a mocking singsong. "I won't betray you guys, believe me." The imitation was spot-on, dredging up a memory from years ago—Syn's earnest promise under a sky full of stars, back when trust was their currency and betrayal unthinkable.

Laughter erupted, a jagged chorus that ricocheted off the walls. Vera's chuckle was low and throaty, Aster's a booming guffaw, and Pako's a high-pitched giggle that bordered on manic. Syn joined in, but his laugh was nervous, a brittle sound that cracked under the strain. His dark eyes flickered between them, catching the glint of something darker beneath their mirth—an odd hostility that pulsed like a bottled-up soda, its cap teetering on the edge of release. The room felt smaller, the air thicker, as if their amusement masked a deeper intent.

Vera clapped her hands once, the sound sharp enough to cut through the noise. "Since we're done," she said, her voice sliding into a tone of theatrical anticipation, "it's time to reveal the special something I have for Syn." She turned her head slightly, her purple locks shifting to frame a sly smile. "Pako, drumroll."

"Ddin ddin ddin ddin," Pako obliged, banging her fists on the bed in a poor imitation of a drumroll. The rhythm was off, a chaotic stutter that drew a smirk from Aster and a faint eye-roll from Vera, but no one bothered to correct her. Pako grinned, clearly pleased with herself, and flopped back onto the pillows with a theatrical sigh.

Vera rose from the sofa with deliberate grace, her olive uniform rustling as she reached behind her back. Her fingers emerged clutching a small, sleek remote, its surface glinting ominously in the dim light. She held it aloft, letting it catch their attention like a predator dangling bait. Then, with a flick of her wrist, she tossed it toward Syn. It sailed through the air, struck the forcefield with a dull *thunk*, and landed just beyond his reach on the floor, its black casing stark against the metallic sheen. Syn stared at it, his breath catching in his throat, a cold premonition prickling his skin.

"Any guesses what it is?" Vera asked, her voice a purr of challenge as she folded her arms, her piercing gaze locking onto him.

Aster's eyes narrowed, recognition flashing across her face. She surged to her feet, her muscular frame towering as she pointed an accusing finger at Vera. "You really did it, you bitch," she cursed, her voice low and venomous, dripping with a mix of disbelief and reluctant admiration.

"What? What is it?" Pako demanded, scrambling to her knees on the bed, her black bob bouncing as she craned her neck for a better look. Her curiosity was genuine, her usual nonchalance giving way to a spark of intrigue. Syn, too, remained silent, his mind racing but his lips still, waiting for the answer to crystallize.

Aster's jaw tightened, her hands curling into fists at her sides. "That's a detonator for an explosive," she said, her tone hardening with each word. "I think she planted it on the spaceship with the princess yesterday.."

"Ding ding ding, Aster's right," Vera said, her excitement bursting forth in a gleeful chirp. She clapped her hands together once more, the sound crisp and triumphant. "The timer's set for twenty-four hours, and I have already started it." Her piercing gaze shifted fully to Syn, pinning him like a specimen under glass. "So, Syn, you've got twelve hours to save your precious princess. Cancel the contract, turn off the forcefield, and stop the detonator—or they all die."

The words landed like a punch, the air in the room thickening with the weight of her ultimatum. Syn's pulse quickened, his dark eyes widening as the reality sank in. Pako tilted her head, her grin faltering as she processed the twist, while Aster's lips twitched into a grudging smirk, both clearly struck by the cunning of Vera's play.

"That's a sick idea," Pako muttered under her breath, almost to herself, her tone a mix of awe and unease. Aster nodded faintly, her expression mirroring the sentiment—a good idea, twisted as it was.

"That's cheating," Pako said louder, turning to Vera with a pout, her hands planted on her hips. But Vera just shrugged, her eyebrows lifting in a gesture of mock innocence, as if to say the rules were hers to bend.

Aster stepped forward, her boots thudding against the floor as she bent to scoop up the remote. She turned it over in her hands, her fingers tracing its edges with a soldier's precision. She pressed a button, and a small screen flickered to life, glowing with cold, digital menace:

*11:58:35:11*

The countdown ticked relentlessly—hours, minutes, seconds, milliseconds—each digit a hammer blow against Syn's resolve. "It's real," Aster confirmed, her voice steady but laced with a grim respect as she held it up for all to see. She straightened, her towering frame casting a shadow over the room, and tossed the remote back to the floor with a clatter, just out of Syn's grasp.

Syn's eyes widened further, a surge of adrenaline sharpening his senses. "Well played," he murmured, almost to himself, his voice low and tight, a reluctant nod to Vera's gambit. The remote sat there, a taunting sentinel, its glowing screen a constant accusation.

"So…" Pako mused, her brow furrowing as she pieced it together, her playful demeanor giving way to a flicker of seriousness. "It's going to be Syn's fault if the bomb explodes and everyone dies because he hesitated to take down the forcefield and stop the detonator?" She glanced at Vera, then Syn, her dark eyes searching for confirmation.

Vera shrugged again, her eyebrows arching higher, a silent *you tell me* that carried a predator's confidence. She leaned against the sofa's armrest, her posture casual but her presence commanding, every inch the captain reveling in her trap.

Aster's grin widened, a feral edge creeping into her expression. "And if he presses the detonator, we can touch him." The words dripped with menace and promise, her gaze flicking to Syn with a hunger that made his skin prickle. Pako's grin mirrored hers, a spark of mischief reigniting as she clapped her hands together in delight. Vera joined them, her smile deepening, the trio's expressions a chilling symphony of glee that tightened the knot in Syn's chest.

"It's all you now, Syn," Vera said, her voice smooth as she pushed off the sofa and straightened. "We'll leave the room for your peace of mind." She turned on her heel, her olive uniform rustling as she strode toward the door, her steps measured but purposeful.

"Tick tock, tick tock," Aster mimicked a ticking clock, her deep voice echoing mockingly as she followed, her boots thudding a steady rhythm. She cast a glance over her shoulder, her blonde hair catching the light, a final taunt in her smirk.

Pako hopped off the bed, winking at Syn with a flourish. "Don't take too long, lover boy," she teased, sauntering after them, her hips swaying with playful intent. 

The door hissed shut behind them, sealing Syn in with the remote's faint glow and the relentless hum of the forcefield. The room felt vast and suffocating all at once.