The Evoli were descended from early Tholosian colonies, but branched off after settling on what became their home, Eve—a glittering jewel of a planet on the edge of the Karis Galaxy. It was hard to reach—the distance between the Iona and Karis galaxies was protected by thick asteroid belts the Evoli were adept at navigating in their nimble ships. Eve, like so many others, had once housed other lifeforms that were killed off during raids. But the atmosphere required adaptation to live in, synthetic alterations to their DNA that eventually passed through the generations to their children and gave them extra abilities.

To the Tholosians, it made them less than human. Other.

Alien.

Clo had learned the truth behind the rumors. She wasn’t afraid of Elva or the Evoli anymore, though she had been when she first left the Snarl. Rumors passed on both sides; Elva had told her the Evoli believed Tholosians to be emotionless. Monstrous.

Clo’s mouth had twisted. I mean, the Tholosians are pretty monstrous, she’d said, before pulling the blanket over their heads, distracting them both.

The Evoli Empire could be just as single-minded and destructive as the Tholosians. Their lead Oversoul, the Ascendant, stated that the universe demanded no Tholosians could be allowed to live. They were a menace that would spread unchecked.

The Novantae had reached out, offering to partner with the Evoli officially, but had been rebuffed. To them, even the Novantae could not be trusted. They feared the Oracle still lurked in the deepest parts of their minds.

Clo was only afraid of any Empire that wanted to kill civilians for no more reason than false beliefs. Tholosians like Clo or Evoli like Elva weren’t monsters or sorcerers; they were pawns.

This imprisoned Evoli was someone else caught up in this power play between two empires. Clo’s fingernails bit into her palms as she stared at him. From this distance, if Clo ignored the markings and soft glow of his skin, he looked no different from the rest of them. Terrified, alone. Sweat broke out along his forehead. He met Clo’s eyes, and she couldn’t help but look away.

Coward. You fluming coward, she told herself.

Clo glanced over at Eris to find her expression unchanged. Unsurprised. How could she be so calm? <You knew Damocles would do something like this, didn’t you?>

Eris’s gaze flickered to Clo. <Yes.>

<And you two?> She asked the others. Nyx stood as stone-faced as Eris.

<I suspected,> Ariadne said quietly through the Pathos.

<Gods,> Clo said. <We really are the fucking monsters.>

Eris’s response was two simple, devastating words: <I’m sorry.>