Vivian Dubois's golden cage was not a prison of bars, but of comfort and confusion.
After the mandatory "cleansing," Ethan woke up in a room that was an insult to scarcity: walls of acoustic microfiber, a bed that adjusted to his pulse, and a digital window that projected shifting views of alien moons. The air, saturated with a soft jasmine scent, was a sedative in itself.
It wasn't just the environment that was softening him; it was the chemistry.
The injections the guard had given him, described as "essential nutrients for dimensional acclimatization," acted like a soft eraser. At first, Ethan tried to recall the door code to Module 4 of the station, the face of his former superior, or the taste of burnt coffee. Now, those details slipped away like sand between his fingers. His rage had turned into a fog, and his former tenacity, into a reserve of overwhelming shyness.
He had become a polished object, almost identical to the "humble boy" Vivian had seen in the report of his parallel life, but devoid of the spark that made him dangerous.
One afternoon, while Ethan was trying to read a quantum engineering manual he didn't understand—a decorative prop Vivian had left him—Dr. Dubois walked in. She didn't knock. She never did.
She was dressed in a liquid silk suit of an opulent silver color and carried a glass with a drink that looked like melted crystal.
"Look at you. You've almost lost that unpleasant low-grade military air," Vivian commented, placing the glass on an obsidian table. Her tone was one of cold approval. "Your civilian suit fits well. You look... manageable."
Ethan, sitting on the edge of the bed, flinched. The suit they had put him in was of fine linen, a pale gray color. It made him feel exposed and childish.
"Dr. Dubois," he managed to say quietly, unable to hold her gaze. "I... I don't understand what you want from me. We could be making great discoveries with the artifact, but I'm just here, reading this." He pointed to the manual, and his hand trembled slightly.
Vivian approached, running a finger over the book cover before touching his cheek with a calculated coldness. "What I want from you, Ethan, is what every collector wants from a rare piece: the pure and simple satisfaction of its existence. I bought you because you were mine in another universe. Now you are mine here, only prettier and... less noisy."
She sat down next to him, the proximity of her expensive perfume overwhelming him. She placed a hand on his shoulder, mimicking an intimate gesture that, for her, was a display of power.
"What would you like? A ship? An entire colony? Tell me, boy, ask me for anything. I want to see you shine under my patronage. Just... be obedient." Her voice was a purr of manipulation wrapped in wealth.
Ethan felt the heat rising in his face. The old version of himself would have challenged her or tried to escape. This new version could only whisper. "I... I don't need any of your fortune, Doctor. I just want... to know why I keep forgetting important things."
Vivian was about to respond with a predatory smile when the door opened.
It wasn't a guard, but a young woman. She was petite and had a contained energy that vibrated in the opulent silence. She wore simple (though high-quality) travel clothes, and her hair was a bright red that seemed to defy the laws of sobriety. Her intense green eyes were fixed on Ethan, not Vivian.
"So this is where the dimensional energy Queen B keeps her toys," said the newcomer, her voice a mix of contempt and familiarity.
Vivian straightened up, her expression of pleasure instantly transforming into the icy mask of the enraged CEO.
"Who allowed you in, Dana? And how the hell do you know my personal codes?"
The young woman, Dana, ignored Vivian and walked straight to Ethan. She knelt before him, and the difference between her frank energy and Vivian's coldness was shocking.
"Ethan Thone," Dana said, her voice now soft but with an undertone of firmness. She took his hands in hers, and he felt strangely safe for the first time since arriving in this reality. "I knew I would find you here. You promised me, remember? That no matter the dimension, you would always find your way out."
The contact was a shock to Ethan. A vague, almost broken memory flickered in his mind: an old tree in a garden, a promise in the rain. It was so faint it could be a dream.
"Who... are you?" Ethan could barely form the words.
Dana smiled, a smile that was half a challenge to Vivian and half comfort for Ethan. "I'm your ally, you fool. Dana Alaric. Your childhood playmate. Or has the Doctor erased your whole life already?"
Vivian stood up, furious. "Get off my property, Alaric! This is a corporate matter, and this boy is a registered asset."
Dana Alaric stood up, facing Vivian without yielding an inch.
"It's funny how you appropriate things, Vivian. In the universe he comes from, Ethan rescued you. He took care of you. In my universe, he's the only one who holds the chip. A resource that all your money can't buy."
She looked at Ethan, her expression turning tense. "But I see the manipulation is going well. Even so, I'm taking him, Vivian. Or we'll play your game, but on my terms."
Dana did not reveal her true intentions: Was she there to rescue Ethan from Vivian's manipulation? Or was she herself a collector, with a deeper interest in the now-vulnerable boy? The only thing clear was that Dana had arrived to claim Ethan, pitting the capricious billionaire against an unexpected rival in a game of ownership that would only grow more dangerous.