KEREN

"—though there was some public pushback against the necessity of the Elites for the First Insurgency War, General Keaton of the Strike Forces has now brought assurance of the First Insurgency's downfall due to the participation of the Elites—"

"Don't let Jesti roll again, Ethan," Urtovan complained. "You know he has terrible luck. You don't let the guy with the worst luck roll."

"I can have bad days," Jesti argued.

Two quadrums on the day he came into the universe. Three since Mother was killed in the crossfire between a rival family. Though the Gorgot's jaws haunted his sleep, he took solace in the defenses Ethan provided, but Father's word of warning when they moved across Roxton and closer to the casino battered his mind.

"We don't talk about what we discussed," Father warned, threatened with the knowing expression of a man who knew the gravity of his actions, but a lack of care for them all the same.

Everything had a give or take, and everyone had dues to pay. Keren stared at Ethan when he rolled the balls between his hands. "Sure, let's see if my good luck counteracts his bad luck." He aimed, then tossed the playmakers through the small magnetic field. It bounced off the point rings with a chorus of victory notes when it swirled into the last one. Ethan smiled at Urto and Jesti, but a shot of electricity kept him on guard.

Three quadrums since Ethan started to slip out of his grasp.

His shoulders no longer sagged and despaired the way they used to, a perfect mirror of Mom. With confident, graceful strides, Ethan walked the path and he trailed behind. It was the last connection he had of Mom, and Ethan took it with him when he delved deeper into the shadows without hesitation or the same weight dogging his heels. As Ethan became stronger, he got father away from him, out of his reach.

You're not here... even though you're standing right there. Maybe he's... long since accepted this. Maybe he's always accepted it... but we made a promise.

Keren sucked in his lips and wanted to hide behind the old newspad and his own penchant for doom swiping. Once started, it became difficult to stop. Dycades of bloodshed in war took the headlines. He swiped to the next headline, where his morbid curiosity found itself undamaged from the crunch of bone.

PIRATE MASSACRE AT EASTPOINT.

He brought up the listing and rifled through the missing person's tab from the attack. From the date, it happened sometime after Mother died, but the longer he tried to wrack his head for a memory, the more it failed him.

"Oi, Keren, why don't you join us?" Jesti asked with a warm smile. "You might beat Ethan's score. There's a little luck to be had on someone's starday."

Not in my experience. Keren hid behind the newspad again, but sighed when the three men stared at him. Do I even want to play a game when I know what I do? Outside the window, the lights from the casino blocked the peaceful night, a constant reminder. It struck the city skyline, but went deeper into an underground made of bones and crime. Fear wrapped around his shaking hands, and he tucked them in his lap with a shiver.

One of their compearls beeped, and Keren braced himself for Ethan to get farther away.

It was Urto who raised his hand to his ear. "I have to cut this short," he said and tossed his marks onto the table. "I've got something important that needs doing." He bustled up the stairs and out of the game room.

Jesti blinked, then turned to Ethan. "I'm going to head out too," he said and put his markers into their proper place before turning to him. "Happy late starday, Keren. If you want anything, let me know!"

There's only one thing I've ever really wanted, and it's impossible to have.

Keren waved him off, and then it was him and Ethan alone in the gameroom. He bustled over behind the bar, searching through the cupboards. Keren lifted himself off the lounger. "What are you doing?"

Ethan bobbed his head over the edge and pulled up his personal pack. "I grabbed something," he said, and Keren shuffled over to investigate, though one stool spun at the approach of warmth, he pushed it aside to reject its offer of assistance.

"What is it?" Nervousness boiled his stomach, and he inched closer to the trashbin on the off chance his unease came out in globs of what he had for breakfast. "Is something going on, I—" He clasped his hands together and willed them to stop trembling out of fear. "Father already let me know what I'm going to start doing now that I..." His voice pincered his ears, a warning. Rules upon rules. Every misstep. Every calculated choice.

"Nothing like that," Ethan said, and for a pulse of a star, the Ethan he once knew peeked out from behind a mask of unsatisfied hunger. "I just wanted to say happy starday." He scrolled through the holographic menu of all the non alcoholic beverages. "It's not every day that you turn fifteen."

"I..." Keren snorted. "We can only be fifteen once."

"Exactly." Ethan rifled through the bag. "You're my family. I wanted to get you something."

"Ethan—" Keren sighed when he ignored him and the strings attached to every gift in their family. He winced when Ethan tugged out a wad of exal. It passed through crimson fingers to land in the lap of Father. Coins clinked in a small pouch and the metal bindings burned under the smallest flame when he pushed it into his numb hands. "Ethan—"

"I'm not done yet."

Keren set the pouch to the side when Ethan tugged out another model ship. One of the more expensive ones on the collector's market. He dared not to order one with Father's control over all his belongings. Keren avoided his mirror for the one sole reason he suspected Father saw through it. Walls withdrew into the corners when he searched them for cameras attached to the SAI of their house.

"Ethan—"

"I know you were eyeing this one down," Ethan explained, a shard of a smile gracing his cheeks. A dying reflection of Mom. "I mean, it's not the real thing, obviously, but I hope—"

"Ethan!" Keren raised his voice, but he chewed on self-hate when Ethan stiffened with a hidden, fearful wince when he threw his hands into the air to grab onto control of the conversation. "We have had this conversation every time you do this." He lowered his hands onto the table. "I don't want these things. I told you to stop getting me stuff for my starday. One, I can't get you anything for yours, two..." He slid words through the air, but he scoffed. "Just stop with this. We both know you can't get what I really want, so unless you have something to share with me, just let it go."

Torment filled the acid when Ethan set the model box down. "I'm working on it, Keren."

Working on it. I'll get to it. Keren sucked in a laugh at the ease of a lie. "I don't want this." He pushed the exal pouch back at Ethan, but swiped the model box with Ethan's hands busy. "I'll still take this though." He held it underneath his arm as Ethan stared into space. "Listen, everytime we have this argument you seem to ignore the fact that I can't return the favour."

Ethan twisted his hand in disbelief. "Keren, it's a gift."

It's never as simple as a gift.

Keren put the model ship away, and scowled when Ethan added, "Just because that's how it works for other people doesn't mean it is the same way for you. It is your starday. I want to do these things," he argued with the same logic he used. "I want to show you that I am trying."

"Sure, shower me with exal and gifts when you know that's not what I want," Keren bit when Ethan rounded the bar for him. "If you think it fills something, I'm afraid it doesn't. I'm not that sentimental and attached to superficial things." He pushed the model ship for later use.

Ethan folded his arms. "And yet you still have the scout ship we built together."

"That's different." Keren huffed. "It's called a collectible, and it's not like you're attached to it."

And it's a reminder of what I can never have. Keren rubbed his palm against his brow, but jumped when Ethan pushed a water capsule into his hands. "What?"

"Just drink it." Ethan urged him once more with a poke, and Keren obeyed. "We're going to head over to the casino now."

His anger fell into terror. "He won't make me—"

"Do you remember what I told you?"

Keren lost the stiff strength in his shoulders. "Watch and learn?"

"Yeah." Ethan nodded. "Watch, carefully."

Keren dug his fingers into the compartment where he placed the model ship and longed to break his bones on it. "Okay."

"Okay," Ethan repeated, raising his hands in quiet placation. "Besides, you will be working with me, not with Father, just an Associate of his. With Chalen."

Chalen, Mom's old friend. A constant presence compared to Father, but everyone had a skeleton in their closet. Chalen was no different. "I guess so." He chewed on another bout of anxiety. "What if something goes wrong?"

A vacuum filled Ethan's face. "I'm just dealing with tables today and you're going to watch me do it," he said. "Or you can just stick around Chalen, listen and... mostly watch gamblers bet everything away. He runs the floor." Ethan prodded him in the spine. "Go on, I'll meet you at the door."

Struck by his impassive veil whenever Father wasn't around, Keren found himself once more hiding in Ethan's calming force against the tug of a black hole swirling around them. Curiosity dogged him to discover what Ethan truly thought, but the solar fire whenever Father trapped them into a chat in his office told more than the silence Ethan kept like a viscous secret to take to his grave. Keren rushed away from Ethan and upstairs to wait by the door.

Hovercycles hummed over the streets which led to the outskirts around Roxton, into the thick undergrowth of untold nature. Ethan's cobra sat in the side garage, with Father long gone to other dealings. Wherever he's gone, I don't want to know.

"Ethan, am I going to be asked to drive?" Keren questioned when Ethan caught up with him.

"Yeah?" Ethan tucked his hands in his pockets, and they started the walk to the casino. "Why?"

Keren frowned. "I'd rather learn how to fly."

Ethan sucked in his lips. "I'll see what I can do."

Billboards lit the canopy with a myriad of colours. Advertisements directed people to the most popular of shops. Each one, Father had a hand in. Anything to consolidate power since they pushed the Azaika's across the city, with North Park back in their iron grasp since the attack. Keren stuck close to Ethan's side, keeping to his end of the promise when Ethan took him inside.

Victory music rolled across the entertainment stage. Games clicked and rolled. People tossed their dice and took bets on the Starcross Tourney showing on the multiple I-Screens around the gambling floor. All to forget their woes.

Not for long, the house always wins without fail.

"We're heading to the VIP gambling floor," Ethan said as he kept him away from the main crowds who gathered around the stage for the next act. Noises and movement overwhelmed his senses, and he clasped onto Ethan when he dragged him into the elevator.

Keren latched onto the railing when the doors closed, and stared into his ashen reflection. Through the mirror, deliberation crossed Ethan's face as he fiddled with the cuffs of his shirt. "I know I couldn't prevent you from being shoved into this," Ethan whispered. "But I'm here. I'll help you. We're just talking to Chalen. We're not doing anything big."

Jelly swam in his knees when Ethan clapped him on the back. "It's not like Father will let me do anything else now."

I know too much.

Ethan closed his eyes. "Can I pose a question, then?"

"What?"

"In this life, there are types of people. There's the hunted, always on the run, always looking over their shoulder, always worrying about what's coming and never able to rest until it spirals them into their own doom." He tipped his head forward. "Then, we have the hunter, an absolute in control. They decide whether to continue the chase, or end things on their terms."

Keren let go of his support for the consistent one in his life. "What do you mean?"

"Which would you rather be? A fawn stuck in the jaws of a wolf with no way out? Or would you rather be a wolf yourself?" Ethan considered him. "We're family. Brothers. We're family and that's how we survive, just us," he repeated his old words. "I want you to watch, learn, and wait."

Brothers... "For what?" Keren asked. "What is there to wait for?"

Ethan smiled when the elevator slid to a slow crawl. "For an opportunity that could change the entire playing field in front of us."