Jupiter isn't entirely certain just what she feels when she sees the ball of energy propelled from the unseen weapon hit Caine square in the chest. It isn't surprise, or fear, or even terror. Rather it is some strange feeling that Jupiter cannot immediately pin down, but she can name it when she sees Caine's body hit the stone floor beneath the viewing field of Balem Abrasax's crystalline floor.
It is relief.
She is so tired of fighting, so exhausted from the whirlwind of the past few days and from all of the information imparted to her and battles for her soul and attempts on her life. She wants one solitary night back home, unaware of all of this. She wants to sit directionless and drifting upon the roof of her uncle's house, while somewhere in the dark the sirens and the thunder drift around her and the stars overhead dance in their cold, remote beauty; a world where she is not this strange re-occurrence of an interstellar queen.
And some small part of her believes that Caine's death might grant her that peace, and that reprieve from this world. But another part of her knows better, knows that, deep down, this nightmare through which she swims without hope of breaking surface, will eventually drown her, and that Caine's death stops nothing.
Jupiter returns to the land of the living, or perhaps the realm of the eternal gods.
An immortal is gazing at her, triumphant. There are exploding galaxies in his eyes. And she knows that Balem Abrasax has claimed victory.
As the burning hurricanes collapse around them, there seems to be a resigned power imbalance that spreads itself between them. Balem nods, nearly imperceptibly, at Chicancery Night. Jupiter feels the tablet being removed from her hands, almost gently guided out of her grasp by the small fingers of Balem's closest advisor. And she knows that, now, Balem Abrasax has nothing but time. Indeed, it is a strange, ironic thought; his most precious resource is also his greatest weapon against her rebellion.
The light fingers of Mr. Night are again brushing against hers, now softly drawing her wrists behind her back and binding them. His touch conveys a sorrow, an unspoken apology, a regret. Jupiter cannot dwell upon the hands of the advisor. A new touch is upon her face, cold fingers that dance and ghost across her cheek and jaw, fingers that move across her skin as though she is an illusion, a breakable hallucination, something that might disappear if handled without the utmost care.
Apparently Balem Abrasax likes to test his theories.
Pain explodes across her face. She holds her head to the side, jaw resting on her chin, keeping her eyes away from the coldly victorious eyes of Balem. Jupiter knows one emotion now. Fear has replaced relief. She now truly understands the magnitude of the situation, the gravity of what has transpired in the past few minutes from Caine's death to the stinging slap across her face that now forced white-hot pain to slowly spread across her cheek. Resigned, she slowly turns to face Balem again.
His blank visage gives away nothing. But Jupiter sees the sound and the fury behind his eyes. The immortal seems to read her thoughts.
"Time, Jupiter, is the luxury afford to us," he breaths, "It is our right."
Jupiter says nothing. It matters not. No words that she can craft will change his mind now that Balem holds the true upper hand. Caine is dead. The Aegis will soon escape the collapsing atmosphere of the raging planet. Her family lies unconscious and unknowing beneath her feet. There is no one else. She is alone with this powerful ruler of galaxies.
She has one bargaining chip for her life: the lives of six billion people. Jupiter silently resolves that, regardless of the terrors that he might unleash upon her, Balem Abrasax will never gain control of Earth.
His eyes are whitecaps of memory upon a raging sea, confusing and violent.
There is no life beyond this.
Balem Abrasax's words are a whisper that tears open the silence, a mere breath upon her cracked lips.
"You will come with me."
Jupiter cannot protest. Her wrists are bound, her will more so. She again feels Mr. Night's fingers grasp her hands, softly, softly. She is spun around and the vast expanse of Balem's planetary empire disappears behind her; her feet numbly march across his halls and board an elaborately decorated ship as all around her fires rage and pillars of industry collapse. Jupiter feels nothing now, not relief or fear or anger. She only feels the cold breath of Balem Abrasax as he follows closely behind her, boarding the ship with a contingent of guards.
The First Primary of House Abrasax disappears into a chamber deep within the hull.
They leave the death behind. Somewhere, far ahead, imperceptible, a clear blue highway, cold stars that dance through the wine-soaked galaxies. But Jupiter cannot see it.