The air in Ethan's luxurious suite had become electrified, transforming from a forced haven of peace into a battlefield. Vivian Dubois, the collector of realities, had encountered a rival who was unafraid of her fortune or her position.
Vivian composed herself with cold grace, adjusting the cuff of her silk suit. Her fury was distilled into an icy condescension.
"Childhood friend, you say?" Vivian chuckled, a dry, humorless sound. "How touching. You know, Dana? In this universe, nostalgia is a product that is bought and sold, not a bargaining chip. This boy, your 'friend,' is under my protection and care. His other life is over. Now, he is a valuable asset in my personal collection."
She approached Ethan, who was still sitting, overwhelmed, on the edge of the bed. Instead of touching him, Vivian made a gesture with her hand, and a holographic data screen appeared beside him, displaying financial excerpts.
"Look at this, Ethan," Vivian said, her voice returning to its smooth, manipulative tone. "If you stay with me, tomorrow I can transfer ownership of an entire mining colony on Ganymede to your name. Or perhaps, would you prefer control of one of my research divisions in dimensional physics? Forget the nostalgia and the broken dreams. With me, you will have security, power, and the key to open any door in this galaxy."
Ethan blinked at the torrent of numbers and the magnitude of the offer. The injections he had been given acted as a buffer between his emotions and his mind, making the vastness of Vivian's wealth seem, confusingly, like the most sensible and secure path.
"That's a... very generous offer," Ethan murmured, feeling guilty for not showing more enthusiasm.
Dana Alaric let out a short, bitter laugh. She crossed her arms, her bright red hair contrasting sharply with the sober color palette of the room.
"It's a shame her generosity is so sterile, Vivian," Dana retorted, stepping forward. "She is not offering you a future, Ethan, but a gilded coffin. She's buying you to silence you, to display you. Do you remember the old days, Ethan? The smell of burnt gunpowder in the simulations, our midnight races to evade the Sector Gamma guards... Do you remember what we fought for?"
Dana didn't show him a hologram; instead, she extended her hand, a simple, direct gesture.
"I don't offer you colonies, Ethan. I offer you the truth. I offer you the freedom to be you again, the guy who dared to challenge authority, the one who smiled with that mischief when he was about to break a rule. Has the Doctor asked you what real coffee tastes like, or if you prefer heavy rock or classical music? She only sees you as an object, a trophy for her collection."
Her green eyes, so intense, searched for something in Ethan's dulled gaze.
"Security is a lie," Dana continued, keeping her voice steady, directly challenging Vivian. "If you come with me, I offer you danger, adventure, the chance to reclaim those memories they are stealing from you. A future where we decide, not this woman's bank accounts."
Vivian abruptly stepped between them, blocking their visual connection.
"The boy is under a biochemical stabilization regime. Your sudden and hysterical appearance is detrimental to his adaptation," Vivian hissed, biting off every word with venom. "This is a maximum security corporate station. You will leave, Dana, or I will call my security forces and personally ensure you never see the light of day again."
Dana smiled, a predatory grin that matched Vivian's own.
"Oh, I dare you to do it, Vivian. But you know you won't," Dana said, raising a small, blinking device. "I have something here that interests you more than this poor boy. Information that, if made public, would send your stocks plunging to the Earth's core. I'm not here begging, Doctor Dubois. I'm here to make a deal: loyalty for time."
Vivian's expression tightened. The device in Dana's hand was clear blackmail. Vivian, the woman who always controlled the situation, was being tactically outmaneuvered.
"Fine," Vivian spat. "I see you've inherited your father's stubbornness. You will have one hour. One hour, Dana Alaric, to finish your pathetic attempt at seduction. But be clear: if this 'young love' interferes with my plans or his treatment, you will regret you were ever born."
Vivian turned sharply and headed for the exit, her silver silk billowing behind her. She stopped in the doorway, turning her head for one last warning, this time directed at Ethan.
"Think carefully, Ethan. Dana only offers you teenage dreams. I offer you reality. One hour."
The door closed with a soft 'click,' leaving Dana and Ethan alone in the opulent silence. Ethan, his heart faintly pounding from the tension, felt Dana's hand on his again, this time with desperate tenderness.
"One hour," Dana repeated in a whisper, looking at the door. "One hour to wake up the person I love, or that harpy will turn him into a vegetable. We have to talk, Ethan. Fast."