Author note:
Shocked people like this, but if you're still tuned in please feel free to leave a comment down below. Maybe I'll put your ideas in if I'm feelin' inspired. What do you feel makes this fanfic unique? Anyway, enjoy this rare 5000-word chapter.
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Pov: Third Person
Date: Y4 M6
The command centre in Ironhold was a place of cold efficiency, where every surface gleamed with an almost clinical sterility.
Holographic displays filled the walls, cycling through maps, intelligence reports, and tactical analyses of Pandora's transformed landscape.
The bioluminescent light from Yggdrasil seeped through a high window, casting a strange glow across the room.
This place was Alexander's sanctuary—where the weight of his empire rested on each decision he made.
He stood at the centre, stoic as always, his presence a storm hidden behind still waters.
Athena entered the room, her face a mask of determination, but with a hint of conflict in her eyes. The door hissed shut behind her, sealing them in a bubble of charged silence.
She had just come from the eastern perimeter, where Tina had briefed her and the Vault Hunters with precision and knowledge that had left Athena uneasy.
There was something about seeing the young girl, barely out of childhood, moving through tactical maps and combat simulations with the cold focus of a seasoned soldier that disturbed her.
Now, she was here to confront Alexander—the man who had forged this new Pandora and, in a way, Tina herself.
"We need to talk," she said, her voice steady but laced with a note of urgency. She crossed her arms, her gaze never wavering from Alexander's blank eyes.
Alexander turned slowly, his expression impassive. "Then speak, Athena," he replied. His tone was even, giving nothing away.
Athena took a deep breath, her fingers curling around the hilt of her sword, a nervous habit she had developed over years of fighting. "It's about Tina," she said, her voice firm. "What the hell are you doing, sending her out there? She's too young for this. I won't support an empire built on the corpses of children."
Alexander's eyes narrowed slightly. "I have never conscripted a child to war," he said coolly, his voice unwavering. "Tina is not some conscript thrown to the front lines. She is my apprentice, trained personally by me, and she is more capable than you realise."
Athena's jaw clenched. "That's not the point, Alexander. You've given her the tools to be a weapon, but she's still a child. I see the same thing in her eyes that I saw in my own when I was under Atlas's thumb. You know what that does to a person—to be moulded, tempered, and sharpened until there's nothing left but a tool to be used. I refuse to be part of a system that turns children into weapons."
For a moment, a silence settled between them, broken only by the soft hum of the machinery around them. Alexander's gaze was cold and unyielding, and when he spoke, there was an edge to his words. "Tina is not some tool," he said, each word precise. "She is a prodigy. You've seen her, Athena—her potential, her intellect, her determination. It would be more dangerous to deny her the guidance she needs. Left unchecked, she would seek vengeance alone, and that path would lead to her own destruction."
"Maybe. But that's a risk you take as an adult. Children don't get to make those decisions because they don't understand the consequences—because they shouldn't have to. It's our job to make those decisions for them, to keep them from becoming what we were."
Alexander's lips curled into a thin smile, more condescending than kind. "Do not speak to me of children, Athena. Do not speak as if you understand what it means to survive alone, without guidance, without protection."
He took a step forward, his shadow falling over her. "I was a child when I clawed my way to power, alone in a universe that wanted me dead. If it were not for those who guided me, who tempered my rage, I would not stand here as an Emperor. I would be a demon, a scourge upon this galaxy."
Athena's eyes flashed with defiance. "And that's why you should understand better than anyone that Tina deserves more than this."
Alexander's voice dropped, his tone almost pitying. "You're right, I do understand. Better than anyone. And that's why I refuse to let her walk that path unguided. You've seen the children of Pandora—their eyes burn with rage, with the desire for vengeance against those who have wronged them. They would throw themselves into the fire without hesitation, and they would be consumed by it. Yet do I pour them into the abyss? Do I drag them onto the frontlines?"
He turned away from her, walking toward the large window that overlooked the transformed landscape of Pandora.
The world tree, Yggdrasil, stood like a sentinel over the land, its branches swaying gently in the alien breeze. "They are broken, and they are desperate. But none of them have the potential that Tina does. None of them could be more than a tragic casualty in a war they cannot win."
Athena's voice softened, her anger tempered by a genuine concern. "And what if you're wrong, Alexander? What if this path you're setting her on destroys her anyway? What if, by trying to guide her, you're just creating another weapon—another pawn in your empire?"
Alexander's back stiffened, and he turned to face her, his gaze piercing. "If you cannot see the difference between what I do and what Atlas did to you, then you have learned nothing, Athena. Tina is not a pawn. She is a person—a person with the potential to change everything, for better or worse. That is why I train her. Not because I need a weapon, but because she needs a guide."
"I don't know if I can accept that," she admitted, her voice strained. "I don't know if I can support a cause that puts a child in the crossfire, no matter the potential you see in her. I know what happens when children are trained to fight battles that aren't theirs to fight. You know it too."
"Yet, it is her fight. It is by her will that she walks upon the corpses of our enemies. Tell me truly, did you ever have a choice in the Crimson Assassins? Were you indoctrinated by choice? Or force?" Alexander inquired, the sudden rustle leaving Athena silenced.
Alexander's expression remained firm and vigilant. "I do so with purpose and control. I know what it is like to roam the planes of Pandora alone. My battlefield was not of war but survival. You were made to kill Athena, I was made to survive. Look at what I've accomplished in a mere four years. Give me eight and watch as worlds find true peace."
"And what if they don't accept that? What will you do then?"
"Then I'll destroy them," Alexander explained.
"You would destroy them?" She repeated flabbergasted.
"Did you believe me to be some hero? I am an Emperor before a Saviour, Athena, and a ruler above all else. Do not believe my tolerance for kindness or humility. I allow diversity and your opinions because, at the heart of it, you seek the betterment of the Imperium."
They stood in silence, the weight of their words hanging heavily between them. The faint glow of Yggdrasil's branches bathed the room in a surreal light, casting shadows that seemed to stretch into eternity.
Finally, Athena looked away, her shoulders slumping with exhaustion. "Maybe we're both right. Maybe we're both wrong," she said softly. "But I still can't agree with what you're doing. I can't support it."
Alexander's gaze never wavered. "Then disagree, Athena. That is your right. I don't expect you to understand, only to respect that this decision is mine to make."
"Respect isn't the same as agreement," she replied, her voice firm. "I'll follow your orders, Alexander, but I won't pretend that I'm comfortable with this."
A shadow of a smile crossed Alexander's face, a hint of satisfaction in his eyes. "I never asked you to be comfortable, Athena. I asked you to trust me. And if you cannot, then I only ask that you stay out of my way."
Athena's eyes narrowed, and she gave a slow nod. "I'll stay out of your way," she said, her voice cool. "But I won't stop watching. And if I see you go too far—if I see you doing to her what Atlas did to me—I won't hesitate to act."
Alexander's smile faded, and he turned back to the window, his gaze once more fixed on the landscape beyond. "Do as you must, Athena. Just remember that you chose this path, just as she has."
The conversation was over, and they both knew it. There was nothing more to say, no ground to be won. They had reached an impasse—two warriors, each with their own scars, their own beliefs, and their own reasons for doing what they did.
One was an assassin pretending to be a warrior, the other was a monster pretending to be a man. Time would tell which won, the monster or the warrior.
Athena turned on her heel and left the command centre, the door hissing shut behind her. The soft hum of machinery filled the silence she left in her wake, but Alexander remained where he was, staring out at the vastness of his empire, the weight of his decisions pressing down upon him like the force of a thousand suns.
His will was expanding, many cogs moved about and regardless of what people thought - the conclusion was the same.
---
The tension in Ironhold had settled into a dull thrum, the aftershocks of Alexander and Athena's argument quietly reverberating through the fortress.
Outside, Pandora's alien jungle rustled with the breeze, the bioluminescence of the flora pulsing gently in time with the flickering lights inside Ironhold.
The silence was deceptive—Vladoff's threat loomed larger than ever, and preparations for war continued relentlessly.
There was no room for doubt, only resolve.
Alexander was a man who showed little on his face, yet his mind was churning, calculating every move, weighing each decision.
He stood at the heart of the command centre, watching the display screens as if they were pieces on a chessboard.
Reports from the frontlines filtered through, detailing the strengthening of Vladoff's defences, their movements becoming more desperate and aggressive.
There was no time for hesitation—only the cold march of strategy.
"Begin Phase Two," he voiced, his tone measured and authoritative as if the entire world bent to his will. "I want the new weapons moved to the front lines. Ensure that our soldiers are outfitted with the latest Aether modifications."
His orders were carried out immediately, his officers nodding and dispersing to relay commands.
They didn't question him, didn't hesitate. He had cultivated loyalty through strength, and his people believed in his vision of Pandora reborn.
But Alexander's thoughts were elsewhere—on the girl he had trained, on the woman who had challenged him, and on the path that lay before them all.
Far below the command centre, in the training hall, Tina was in the middle of a brutal sparring match with one of the elite soldiers of the Imperium.
The clang of steel on steel echoed off the cold, reinforced walls as she darted and wove between strikes, her movements fluid and precise.
Her eyes were fierce, her face set with a determination that belied her age.
She had grown stronger, faster, and more capable under Alexander's guidance, but the doubts Athena had planted gnawed at the edges of her mind.
Was she just another weapon in his arsenal?
Was she walking the path to destruction, as Athena feared?
Tina's opponent lunged a massive blow that would have shattered the guard of a lesser fighter.
Tina didn't flinch—she twisted away, sliding to the side and bringing her own blade down in a vicious counterstrike.
The soldier stumbled back, off balance, and Tina pressed the advantage, disarming him with a calculated move that left him sprawling on the floor.
"Guess you need more practice," she said, her tone mocking, but there was no laughter in her eyes.
Her opponent picked himself up, nodding in acknowledgment of her skill.
She was a prodigy—there was no doubt about that. And yet, as she watched him walk away, Tina's confidence wavered. She was a soldier, a leader even, but what did that mean for her future? For the girl she had once been?
In a quieter corner of Ironhold, away from the rigid formality of the command centre, Gaige and Axton were hunched over a workbench, piecing together a salvaged weapon that had been fried in a recent skirmish.
The hum of Gaige's toolkit was a comforting backdrop to the relentless pressure of the war around them.
They spoke in low voices, half distraction and half camaraderie.
"Did you hear what Athena and Alexander were arguing about?" she asked, keeping her eyes focused on the delicate wiring she was threading. "Word's going around that it was about Tina."
Axton looked up, raising an eyebrow. "Not surprised. Athena's been on edge ever since she found out how involved Tina's been with the Imperium's operations."
"Yeah, I get it. Tina's young, you know? Like, really young. But… she's good at what she does. Better than most of us, sometimes."
Axton's gaze was steady, thoughtful. "Good doesn't mean ready, Gaige. I've seen kids in war zones before. It messes you up. I think that's what Athena's afraid of—that Tina's being shaped into something she doesn't fully understand."
"She's not a little kid, though. She's… complicated. I mean, we all are. But, yeah, it's hard to watch sometimes. I don't know if Alexander's doing the right thing with her, but I don't know if I'd do anything different."
She paused, fingers hesitating over the final piece of the gun. "You think he's wrong?"
Axton shrugged, a weary smile touching his lips. "I think he's doing what he thinks is right. But I also think that's a dangerous thing. Leaders always think they're right. It's the rest of us who have to live with the consequences."
Gaige nodded, her thoughts drifting back to her own past—her own choices and the mistakes that had led her to Pandora. "Yeah… I get that."
Alexander stood in the observation deck, far above the noise and chaos of the fortress below. The galaxy was watching Pandora, waiting for the next move in the great game of power and control.
Vladoff would not be easily broken—they had dug in deep, and their will was as iron as their machines.
From his vantage point, he saw Tina below, her form small and determined in the training yard.
He saw Athena moving through the fortress, her expression hard, her eyes watchful. He saw the soldiers preparing for war, their faith in him absolute.
But what he saw most clearly was the path before him—clear, cold, and unwavering.
He had a vision for Pandora, for the Imperium, and he would not be swayed by doubts, no matter how valid they seemed.
Zooming out from the local star system he turned to the seven galaxies ahead - the flickering of differing planets spanning out.
---
In the lower levels, away from the watchful eyes of the command centre, Tina found herself standing at the entrance to the archives—a place few were allowed to go without direct permission.
She hesitated for a moment, then stepped inside, drawn by the curiosity that had always been her greatest strength and her greatest flaw.
The archives were a vault of knowledge—data logs, reports, and histories of Pandora's transformation under Alexander's rule.
She moved between the aisles, fingers brushing over the screens that hummed with hidden secrets. Here was the truth of the Imperium, the raw data that told the story of its rise to power.
She stopped before a terminal marked with Alexander's personal seal, her hand hovering over the access panel. She knew she shouldn't, but the question burned inside her, demanding answers.
She wished to be the monster, the destroyer and scourge of Vladoff... But not at the cost of killing herself. She still wished to be Tina - only more.
With a deep breath, she keyed in her access code—a code she wasn't supposed to have but had acquired through careful observation and technical sleight of hand.
The screen blinked to life, revealing a series of files labelled with dates and names she didn't recognise. Her eyes scanned the data, searching for something—anything—that would tell her what she wanted to know.
And then she found it, a file marked with her own name.
She hesitated, her heart pounding in her chest. Did she really want to know? Did she want to see what Alexander had planned for her, what he saw in her potential?
With a trembling hand, she opened the file, and the screen flooded with information.
Combat assessments, psychological profiles, training regimens, and a detailed analysis of her strengths and weaknesses.
But it was the final entry that caught her eye—a report labelled "Project: Joan of Arc."
Project: Joan of Arc *Updated*
Report: Tina possesses an intelligence and instinct rare of those her age. She has the combat ability and tactile finesse of Isaac Sato (1), the calculative abilities of Joshua Graham (2) and the demolition skills of Jeremiah Iga (3). She is raw and unpolished, but the potential within her is limitless. If guided correctly, she could become a force for change—a leader, a protector of Pandora's future.
Should she continue under my tutelage she shall be a fine governor and leading body under the Imperium. But she is fragile, shaped by a past that has made her both fierce and vulnerable. While there are doubts about having her deployed so young, she possesses a ferocious speciality for danger. She is much as a danger to her enemies as she is to her allies. Reports display numerous signs of disobedience to those of authority and self-destructive tendencies.
Similar reports state violent behavioural tendencies, psychotic tendencies and signs of withdrawal. As much as she deserves a normal childhood it would only harm those around her. Gaige (4) shows similar traits to Tina and has a parallel upbringing. It can be inferred that should Tina have grown up on a more hospitable planet, similar scenes may have occurred.
Assessment:
We believe that Tina is currently suffering from Post-traumatic stress and depression. A break from the action would do well for the child, mentorship under (5) Redacted should suffice. Much can be learnt from Redacted softer approach. She's strong and intelligent, and given a few more years the word-wise may also appear, her future is bright.
Links:
(1) - Isaac Sato (Restricted access)
(2) - Joshua Graham (Restricted access)
(3) - Jeremiah Iga (Restricted access)
(4) - Gaige
(5) - Redacted ( Restricted access)
Tina's breath caught, her eyes wide as she read the final lines.
He believed in her—believed that she could be something more than a weapon. He saw her as more than a pawn in his empire.
But did that make it right?
Did that justify everything he had done to mould her into what he needed?
She saw his reasons for his assessment yet, she couldn't believe it.
She backed away from the terminal, her thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and doubt.
She had seen the truth, but the truth was not what she had expected. She was not a tool, not a pawn, but something far more complicated—something caught between Alexander's vision and Athena's warning.
As she left the archives, the weight of her choices settled heavily on her shoulders. She would not be a puppet, not even for him. But she couldn't deny that she needed him, that his guidance had given her a purpose she had never known before.
The war outside was nothing compared to the war within her own heart.
---
The next morning, Alexander summoned Tina to the command centre. She stood before him, her posture straight, her expression carefully neutral. He studied her for a moment, sensing the turmoil beneath her calm exterior.
"You've been to the archives," he said, his tone flat. It wasn't a question, but a statement.
Tina didn't flinch. "Yes," she replied, meeting his gaze with a defiance that surprised him.
'What is it with people undermining my authority recently... A few months ago people were scared to look at me in the eyes' Alexander thought.
He nodded slowly, a flicker of something—pride, perhaps—crossing his face. "Good. You should know the truth. You should understand the path you're on."
She hesitated, then spoke, her voice steady. "You said I could be a leader, a protector. But I'm still just a kid, Alexander. I'm not ready for this. I'm not sure I want this."
He stepped closer, his gaze intense, his presence overwhelming. "No one is ever ready for the mantle of leadership, Tina. No one ever wants the burden of responsibility. But you have it, whether you like it or not. And you can either rise to the challenge or be crushed by it. I will not force you to choose my path, but I will show you the choices. The rest is up to you."
She swallowed hard, her resolve wavering. "And if I don't choose your way?"
"Then you will fail. This is not a threat Tina, this is but the truth. I drove you this far because I saw a light in you that burned hotter than the embers of the sun... Yet, I see that your drive has diminished. Athena's talk must've been informative, no? If you wish to turn the anchors of fate with your hands... then do so. Fate will not be kind to you as I have...." He voiced.
She stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in. For the first time, she saw him not as the cold, calculating emperor, but as a man—one who had chosen a path of power not because he craved it, but because he believed it was the only way to protect those he cared for.
The silence stretched between them, a fragile thing that held a promise neither was ready to break. Then Tina nodded, a small, hesitant movement that spoke of a decision not yet fully formed.
"I'll stay," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "But on my terms."
Alexander's gaze was unyielding, his expression unreadable. "You've gotten quite audacious, child. Did you forget your beatings? I'll humour you in this hour but remember, It was never I who forced you into this position... But if you must insist, then we shall do it on your terms."
She understood, even if she didn't fully agree. She would walk the path he had laid before her, but she would do it her way. Whatever that meant.
As she left the command centre, Alexander watched her go, a mixture of satisfaction and something far more complicated settling in his chest.
He had planted the seeds of greatness in her, but whether they would grow into a force for salvation or ruin was no longer in his 'control'.
And that was exactly as it should be.
---
Project: Joan of Arc *Unredacted*
Report: ...
Assessment: ...
Hidden notes: Project MKUltra has shown signs of copying personalities, while currently unstable future procedures may bear fruit. Test subject "Joan of Arc" has shown considerate resistance to the project. This is possibly due to the subjects' mental instabilities with copied personalities often committing suicide or self-harm. Further conditioning needs to be set.
---
The heavy clang of the reinforced door echoed through the quiet corridor as Athena stepped out of the command centre, her frustration boiling just beneath the surface.
Her conversation with Alexander had been tense, a clash of two powerful wills with vastly different perspectives.
She couldn't shake the image of Tina—the bright-eyed girl who had once been a bundle of eccentric energy now hardened into a soldier with a purpose—a purpose that Athena feared would consume her.
While she never saw the girl before, she saw videotapes. Everyone's ECHO device connected to the Imperium servers allowed her access. This included Tina.
The kind and eccentric girl was gone, what was left was a monster. She was turning into another Athena, another weapon and tool... It was despicable, a shadow of doubt forming.
Previous conversations with her and the crew revealed her past, the horrors of Vladoffs second siege on the Imperium.
The weight of the Imperium's rise was everywhere in Ironhold, from the humming of the advanced machinery to the disciplined soldiers that patrolled the corridors with unwavering focus.
Athena's steps were brisk, almost angry, as she made her way to the shuttle bay.
She needed to get off this godforsaken fortress for a while, needed to be somewhere that wasn't suffocating under the pressure of military might and Alexander's relentless drive for control.
"Control," she muttered under her breath, her voice bitter. "It's always about control."
As she reached the landing pad, she caught sight of the familiar shape of Janey Springs' custom ship, docked and ready.
Relief washed over her—Janey was one of the few people who understood her, who still believed in a world that wasn't ruled by iron-fisted authority and endless conflict.
She boarded the ship and found Janey in the cockpit, humming softly to herself as she tinkered with the controls.
Janey looked up, her face breaking into a smile. "Hey there, Athena. You look like you've had one hell of a day."
Athena sank into the co-pilot's seat, her shoulders sagging. "You have no idea."
Inside the cockpit, the hum of the ship's engines filled the air, creating a cocoon of warmth and familiarity that Athena hadn't felt in months. She glanced over at Janey, who was waiting patiently, concern etched in her eyes.
"It's Tina. I don't like what's happening to her."
Janey's brow furrowed. "What do you mean? She seemed alright when I saw her last."
She's not alright, Janey. She's... different. Alexander's moulding her into a weapon—a soldier. She's losing what made her... Tina."
Janey leaned back, her expression thoughtful. "And you think that's wrong? I mean, Pandora's a tough place, Athena. You of all people know that. Maybe she needs to be a little tougher."
Athena shook her head. "It's not about being tough. It's about who she's becoming. I went through the same thing with Atlas. I know what it's like to be moulded into something you never wanted to be. It nearly broke me, and I don't want that for her. She's still a child, Janey. She shouldn't be out there on the front lines."
Janey was quiet for a moment, her fingers tracing absent patterns on the console. "You think Alexander's wrong, then? That he's just... using her?"
Athena's gaze was intense, her voice firm. "I think he believes he's doing the right thing. I think he sees her potential, and he wants to protect her by making her strong. But at what cost? I can't help but wonder if the end justifies the means. And if it doesn't, then what kind of empire are we building?"
Janey reached out, placing a gentle hand on Athena's arm. "You're not wrong to worry, love. But Alexander's not some corporate monster. He's different. He's... well, he's trying to make something out of all this chaos. Maybe he's got the right idea. Maybe we're just not seeing the whole picture."
Hearing Janeys words of reason, she couldn't but wonder if she alone had these thoughts.
Athena sighed, leaning back and staring up at the ceiling of the cockpit. "Maybe. But I can't stop thinking about what I saw in Tina's eyes. She's losing herself, and I don't know if I can just stand by and watch."
Janey's grip tightened slightly, her voice soft and understanding. "Then don't. If you think she's heading down the wrong path, be there for her. Guide her. That's what you're good at, Athena. You don't have to agree with Alexander to be a good mentor to Tina."
Athena nodded slowly, the weight of her doubts still heavy on her shoulders. "You're right. But it doesn't make it any easier."
Janey smiled gently. "It never is. But that's why you've got me, right? To remind you that there's still something worth fighting for."
Athena's lips twitched into a faint smile, and she leaned over to rest her head on Janey's shoulder, finding a moment of peace in the storm that surrounded them.
---
Alexander stood in the infirmary, his eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he watched Dr. Zed work with meticulous precision over a med-bay station.
Despite the sprawling scale of the Imperium, the facility felt almost intimate—a relic from simpler times when they were scrapping for survival, not battling for galactic power.
The metallic tang of sterilizing agents mixed with the lingering scent of old blood. The quiet hum of machinery was oddly soothing, and Alexander found himself relaxing slightly as he observed the room.
It was a far cry from the command centre's cold, clinical efficiency - it was somewhat uncomfortable.
Dr. Zed looked up, noticing the Emperor's presence.
He grinned, his face a blend of rugged handsomeness and manic enthusiasm. "Well, if it ain't the big man himself! What brings ya down here, Alexander? Don't tell me you've managed to get yourself hurt already. I'm fresh outta fancy Band-Aids."
Alexander's expression didn't shift, but his voice softened slightly. "No, nothing like that. I just came to check on the progress. The new facilities seem... adequate."
Zed chuckled, shaking his head. "Adequate? C'mon, Alexander, ya gotta give yourself more credit than that. The last time I saw you, you were just some kid pullin' through Fyrestone, barely holding a gun straight. Now look at ya—got yourself a whole empire, and a fortress that even Vladoff's scared to poke their noses into."
Zed spoke these words but chuckled mentally, "Listen, kid, even back then you had a mean mug, those damn birds and Skags by your side left every bandit scared shitless. You've done good."
Alexander's gaze flickered, memories of those early, desperate days tugging at him. "Things have changed."
"Yeah," Zed agreed, pausing to examine a data pad. "But not all bad, eh? You've done some good, Alexander. A lot of folks have somethin' to look up to, now. Somethin' stable."
Alexander remained silent, his eyes distant as he considered Zed's words. For a long moment, the only sound was the quiet beep of medical monitors.
Zed's grin widened, his tone teasing. "So, when you gonna settle down, eh? The big, scary emperors's gotta have someone, right? What about that Angel girl you brought here? I hear you two've got... history."
Alexander's stoic mask faltered, just for a heartbeat. Zed's laughter faded as he noticed the sudden stillness in Alexander's eyes, the way his shoulders tensed as if caught off guard.
Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, Alexander spoke. "I was going to ask you something... important, Zed."
Zed blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in tone. "Oh? What's that?"
Alexander's gaze turned serious, his voice unwavering. "When I marry Angel, I want you to perform the ceremony."
The room went utterly silent, Zed's eyes widening in disbelief. For a moment, he looked as if he didn't quite understand what he'd heard, then realization dawned on him. He swallowed hard, his expression turning solemn as the gravity of Alexander's words hit home.
"Me?" Zed's voice was almost hoarse. "You... you want me to...?"
Alexander nodded, his eyes meeting Zed's with an intensity that left no room for doubt. "You were there from the beginning. You saw what this place was before the Imperium, before all of this. I can't think of anyone else I'd trust to do it."
Dr. Zed's hands trembled slightly as he set the datapad aside. He chuckled, a shaky sound that betrayed the emotion rising in his chest. "Well, hell... I was just jokin' around, ya know? Didn't think you'd ever—damn, I don't even know what to say."
Alexander wandered back to Ralph, Joshua and Xion.
Alexander's expression softened, just for a moment—a rare, almost human glimpse of the man behind the mask of the emperor. "You don't have to say anything. Just be there."
Zed swallowed again, nodding slowly as the reality settled in. "Yeah. Yeah, I'll do it. It'd be an honour, Alexander. A real honour."
The weight of the moment hung heavy between them, the sterile chill of the infirmary feeling warmer somehow.
Zed, the eccentric doctor who had patched up so many wounded souls in Fyrestone, suddenly understood the significance of the request.
It wasn't just about a wedding—it was about a life they had both seen crumble and rise again from the ashes, about a journey that had brought them here, to this moment.
Perhaps even it was the whispers of peace, a semblance of tranquillity in a world where chaos ruled - it was surreal almost euphoric.
Dr. Zed cleared his throat, trying to mask the emotion threatening to choke him. "Guess I should be thankin' you, huh? For... for trusting me like that."
Alexander's eyes glinted with something that might have been gratitude, or perhaps simply understanding. "You've been with us since the beginning. I know you'll be there at the end, too."
They stood in silence for a moment unable to speak.
Each man understands the unspoken bond between them—a bond forged in blood, loss, and the will to survive.
A bond that had withstood the transformation of Pandora itself.
While Alexander had no true affinity for the man, it was his trust in him to transform his once home into a bastion of Pandora.
Then, with a slight nod, Alexander turned to leave, his presence like a shadow that slipped out of the infirmary as quietly as it had come. Zed watched him go, a strange sense of pride swelling in his chest.
He had seen the boy grow into a man, the man grow into an emperor, and now... now he would see him become something even more.
As the door closed behind Alexander, Dr. Zed exhaled a long, shaky breath, the significance of the coming days settling over him like the weight of the sky.
"Damn," he muttered to himself, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "Ain't every day you get asked to marry the most powerful man on Pandora... Guess I better dig out my old suit."
And for the first time in years, Dr. Zed allowed himself a smile—a real, genuine smile that came from a place of hope and possibility, something he hadn't felt in a long, long time.