Owen glanced through the wall toward Gorvax's cell.
The silhouette sat motionless by the window. Staring toward the section of the station where the medical quarter was located.
He hadn't eaten the meal delivered earlier. Hadn't slept.
Owen spoke quietly. "You need to stay strong. For Seri."
Gorvax didn't move. "I am strong. Strong enough to survive three days without food. After that..." He trailed off.
"After that, we survive Prison World. Together."
Gorvax finally looked toward Owen's cell. His silhouette shifted. "You still believe we can make it through this?"
Owen thought of Yuki. Of Drak'thar. Of the hatchlings waiting for him.
"I have to. Because if I don't, then what's the point of any of it?"
Gorvax was silent for a long moment.
Then quietly: "You remind me of myself. Five hundred years ago. Before the desperation. When Seri made me still believe things could be better."
"Maybe they still can be."
"Mhm... maybe."
But Gorvax didn't sound convinced.
---
