A slender Bug burned the corpse of the man Ryu had killed in front of him. The smell of cooked flesh wandered upon hollow senses, and for the twelfth time, Ryu wondered if it should be him. Eventually, he shrugged.

It was not his time to die. The weak man would never have survived long anyways. He had to see Bonny again. His answers were as hollow as their origin, and he knew there was no true answer. His body wanted to survive. It was as simple as that, no matter how much his mind complicated things, for though the mind might long for death, it was the body’s duty to continue on. He only wished the continuing on part was more enjoyable.

Thirty-Seven entered the empty building, and the large Bug spoke to the slimmer one in a series of clicks. Ryu stared at the charred stone floor. Back to ash, then. He supposed it was as good a funeral as a prisoner could hope to get.

“Rest easy. I’m sorry we met as we did.” Ryu’s words escaped his lips in a whisper, and they were followed by a long sigh, one that seemed to take his energy with it.

We must continue to fight, brother, Ender said. We will make it from this place.

“And for what?” His words seemed to bounce around in his Shard Realm, hitting both Ender and his mind with their emotion.

From wretch to fighter and back again. You’re right, brother. Ours is a life of blood. You knew this. You ask the world to change instead of yourself and then fall into despair when it spits in your eye once more. We fight because we must, and I’d rather fight on our own whims than a damn Bug’s.

Miserable wretch and bloodthirsty monster. What a balance he had struck, but so be it. He hardened his heart once. Ryu had killed and would kill again and dozens of more times after that. Not out of malice or cruelty but to survive. His blood-stained hands would build a better place for his family with their strength. He would kill Keira not for revenge, but because her better world could not coexist with his own. To be damned once or a hundred times made no difference.

“Brother, I can mourn an innocent man and be a fighter all the same. Does he not deserve that at least? You may mourn or leave me be, but do not take my bitterness for weakness. There is no release found in the snuffing of innocent lives.”

Of course, brother. Ender’s presence returned to its place in his Shard Realm.

“Human, I will bring you to your new cell. Forty-Three will continue to monitor your fights and bring fresh opponents in the days to come,” Thirty-Seven said. Its voice sounded almost bored, as if Ryu’s hellish future was as interesting as growing grass. “Are you injured?”

“Not more than the injuries I have from our fight previously.”

Thirty-Seven cocked its head, the human movement odd on its alien form. “Apologies, our healers do not understand your human anatomy. Repairing flesh is a… new experience for us.”

“If only you were as clueless at splitting flesh as mending it,” was what Ryu wanted to say, but his clenched jaw refused to let the words past. Thirty-Seven was not evil, it seemed, but Ryu would kill it all the same.

The march to his new cell was a slow one. Ryu counted the steps as they went and marked the turns they made, but in the end, he knew it was all useless if his manacles stayed on. Still, a little hope was nothing to complain about.

Thirty-Seven stopped outside of a smooth black stone wall, and his antenna moved, causing a section of the wall to slide down into the floor. “I will come tomorrow for your next fight.”

Ryu thought back to the man he had killed and his question. “Why?” he asked.

Thirty-Seven tilted its head. “Why what?”

“Why must I fight?” Ryu’s voice was strained. The answer would not bring the man back to life, but perhaps he would not have died for nothing.

The Bug’s antenna waved. “You will receive food within the hour. I will ask if your curiosity may be sated.”

And that was that. The Bug left the cell, the wall sliding back into place behind it. Ryu looked over his new cell. A glowing stone was embedded in the ceiling, and its white light shone on an unremarkable bed, a wash closet, a desk, and a chair. It looked like a poor mockery of a typical human bedroom. Ryu muttered a curse and walked to the bed.

Do you wish to train once more, brother? Ender said.

“No.”

His Shard Twin retreated. The demon probably ached to slaughter his weakling host, but Ryu was not in the mood for such games. Escape. He wanted to escape, and for the first time, he let himself believe it may be possible. Perhaps his allies were planning to rescue him even now…

Oh the foolishness of hope. Allies? Ryu’s allies amounted to a murderous spy in the employ of a fortuneteller and a house that wished him gone. Nobody would save him. He was alone, but Bonny… He would make it back to her. Whether it be one innocent man or a hundred, Ryu would slaughter his way back to his family.

Better food turned out to be unseasoned meat and raw vegetables. It was better than the strange paste from the day before, though, and he could not complain. Not that there was anybody to listen anyways.

After eating, he searched the desk’s drawers. He found a few books, a pen, a notebook, and a small rubber ball. They were to keep him from being bored, he guessed. The Bugs were a strange species. They did not seem to be cruel or callous out of malice, but rather, the aliens seemed to have little emotions at all. Still, it seemed as though they had a cruel fate planned out for him, else Keira would never have surrendered her hated foe into their clutches.

Patience would reveal the answers to his questions, and he hoped that time arrived before it was too late. Thirty-Seven had said he would ask if Ryu’s curiosity could be sated, after all. Whatever that meant.

As if summoned by Ryu’s thoughts, the Bug returned to his cell an hour later. “Follow,” it said. Images of dying in the cramped tunnels flitted through his mind, but he stood all the same. If the Bugs wanted him dead, his body would already be ash.

“Where are we going?” he asked, his eyes struggling to see in the dark tunnels.

“You want to know why you are here, yes? You must learn of other things first.”

“And why teach me?”

Thirty-Seven’s antenna wavered. “We are not a cruel people. Curiosity is a… plant to be watered. Better to learn than to think us monsters.”

Ryu was not convinced. It was more likely that answering his questions was harmless. They believed he would die under their control.

“So then tell me where we are going,” he said.

The Bug ignored him. “We arrived in the new world thirty of your years ago. The first creatures we encountered were monsters coated in black carapace. They stood upright on two legs, communicated with antennae and clicks, and used a variety of impossible talents based on their biology. My species, however, was blessed with only a single talent, one shared by each and every one of our number.”

“You stole their forms. The creatures.”

“Just so. In that time, we mastered these new forms and established the Colony. You must first understand that you humans have no chance against us. I say this out of logic. The Colony has reached heights in thirty years that your people took four hundred to even see. It is only a matter of time before we win. We wish not to doom an entire species, however.”

Understanding dawned on Ryu. It was followed by a cold hate. “So you will steal our forms, then.”

Thirty-Seven’s antennae bobbed. “Perhaps.”

“What does that have to do with my fights?”

“We will reach that point, eventually. You do not yet understand the Colony. My name, for example. You do not understand the meaning of Thirty-Seven.”

“Explain.” Ryu’s eyes darted about, searching for an escape.

“Upon claiming these forms, we learned our hosts divided themselves into multiples of eight. At the top was the One. After her came the Eight. I am part of the Sixty-Four. Thirty-Seven is where my strength ranks among my people. Above me is the Lower Eight of the Sixty-Four, the Upper Eight, and the One. No matter how we improve, this will always stay the same.”

The heat in Ryu’s blood ran cold. “What is the difference in strength between the Lower Eight and the Upper Eight?” he asked.

Thirty-Seven paused for a moment. “The Upper Eight would do to the Lower Eight what I did to you. And the One… Well, It is a being without peer,” its dry, placid said.

“And what would changing forms do to these rankings?”

“Unknown.”

Ryu had his answer, but he was afraid to voice it. The fights, Thirty-Seven’s aid, the body snatching… Ryu was fighting to prove himself a worthy host. The Bugs did not want to place one of their number in a weak body. He was a test subject.

Did he not already have a parasite in his soul, however? Could the Bugs steal a soul inhabited by two wills? Was it worth surviving long enough to find out? Ryu had no idea, and his anger was dwindling away. Humanity was doomed to die. Their only hope was to grow strong enough to wade through the war ahead, but what hope was there to be found in possible genocide? Perhaps a lot considering their alternative.

Oh well, violence was a great deal simpler than philosophy.