Alpha. The first solid mass to coalesce from the chaos, the first planet born out of the swirling cosmological void when the universe was new.

And a living hell.

The sun beat down relentlessly on a landscape as dry and desolate as the few meager plants that somehow managed to eke out life on this dead world. There were no trees or rivers or mountains - nothing but sand, an endless expanse of uninhabitable desert. The temperature bounced between extremes: boiling hot in the day, freezing cold at night, with no respite from either.

There was only one thing on Alpha that had been built by man in all the years since its creation from the void. A prison, dug deep into the earth, where the worst of the worst were sent to suffer and die, neglected and forgotten as Alpha had been by the rest of the universe for so many years. Even Time had abandoned Alpha, leaving the people there stuck like flies in amber, denying them even the relief of death.

It was the perfect place, Valentine thought, to toss the garbage you don't want to remember, so it can rot away without bothering you with its stench.

Miles below the surface, the only way out was up, through the hole in the ground that comprised what most of its denizens simply called 'the pit'. Every person sent down over the centuries had looked up to the light and imagined climbing to freedom. And like shipwrecked men turning to seawater from uncontrollable thirst, many had died trying.

Even if a person could manage to escape the pit, there were still the natural horrors of the planet itself to contend with. And then one had to find a way back to civilization - far harder even than it sounded, since nothing came to Alpha but transport ships dropping off more prisoners.

No one had ever escaped from Alpha in its five hundred years of sucking up the scum of the magical dimension.

Valentine aimed to be the first.

x

The key was all in the timing.

To have even a chance, some strategizing was necessary. There was a reason that everyone who had ever made the climb had failed - they had been unable to think beyond their desperate need to be free of this hellhole. He had seen it too many times, previously healthy minds twisted in despair until they resorted to the only freedom they were ever going to get - a self-inflicted death.

Valentine was determined to never be so foolish.

And unlike the others, whose spirits had been broken by the endless flow of time without the promise of a light at the end of the tunnel, he hadn't given up, either. He still looked up at the sky and dreamed of the day when he would be able to look down at the pit from above and laugh at all the years he had been forced to languish there, forgotten by the rest of the universe. That was what kept the insanity that had taken many prisoners' minds from affecting him, as the years passed by but left him unchanged.

At times, he likened the eternal sentence to being buried alive. But at least he was alive, and his mind as sharp as ever, which was more than many could say. So he waited, observing with a keen eye for detail and learning everything he could about the rat cage in which he was trapped.

It was ironic, then, how after all of his waiting and scheming, his escape ended up being so unplanned.

x

As a rule, Valentine didn't bother trying to get to know any of his fellow prisoners. He had never been much for companionship, and it struck him as particularly useless down here. Any kind of attachment meant the person would inevitably expect to be part of his escape plan when the time came, and that was more variables to factor in than he wanted to account for. While others formed friendships as a way to keep from going crazy, he was content in his solitude. And the more he disregarded the others, the more they kept their distance. It was a win-win.

Nevertheless, that didn't mean he was deaf and blind to any of the goings-on around him regarding other prisoners.

New prisoners were nothing interesting; they were usually brought in every other week, and ranged from a single person to a small army. But like the others, they were either scared stiff or already crazy. Everyone had learned to disregard them; they were hopeless, anyway.

"Get your damn hands off me! I'm a criminal, not a handicap!"

Or so Valentine thought.

The voice - and its owner - quickly made herself known. The stubborn young woman - Krystal was her name - had been thrown into Alpha after trying to raise the Army of the Dead to enslave the world, and breaking out of the mental rehabilitation center she'd been confined to in a pathetic attempt to quell her anger. And she wasn't alone. Two other girls seemed to be constantly at her side. There was talk they were related, but it was difficult to tell since they looked nothing alike. Maeve was thin as a twig and as manipulative as a snake; the other, Audra, seemed to be in a constant fit of rage, and spent her free time creating miniature dust storms that sometimes reached the top of the cavern.

They were different, that much was obvious. Valentine had never seen anyone in the pit as aware as they were. They didn't interact with anyone (unless it was to pick a fight with another prisoner, which seemed to happen often), and like him watched others try to climb to freedom instead of letting the idea cloud their judgment. Often, he could hear them talking late into the night, plotting the best way out. Those discussions would then inevitably give way to what the three would do when they escaped, usually involving very gory details about a girl named Rachel, who was apparently to blame for their imprisonment.

Whoever she was, Valentine got the distinct impression their reunion wouldn't be pretty.

As the weeks passed, and Valentine's curiosity kept him awake later and later into the night, it became obvious that Krystal had a plan. Maeve had somehow managed to smuggle in a small spell book and journal, which gave them an immediate advantage over the rest of the prisoners. They created elaborate diagrams of the walls, working out where to jump and how far it was. They plotted what time of day the wind picked up so they wouldn't be battling two elements on the way up. Eventually, Krystal made the final call; they would be escaping on the night of the full moon, just after everyone else fell asleep, and would make a run for a cargo ship taking off at five in the morning from the main military base, about five miles from the pit they were in. It was foolproof.

"You don't have a cloaking spell that blocks you from cameras."

Audra had been trying to get her footing on the first ledge of the wall - about three feet off the ground. When Valentine spoke, her head snapped backwards and she fell, landing hard on the stone floor. She started to swear, but stopped herself when she remembered everyone else was asleep.

Maeve looked surprised to find him there. Krystal looked uninterested. "We have everything we need, thank you."

"Your spell is fairly complex, true." Valentine went on as though she hadn't spoken. "However, if I read it correctly - and I did read it, since you picked a very poor hiding place. Everyone knows the northeast steps have loose bricks perfect for hiding things. I digress, though - if I read the spell correctly, it comes from the eastern quadrant, yes?"

Krystal bit her tongue, obviously fighting back rage, and nodded.

"And if you'd bothered to look at a map, you would know we're in the western quadrant, which famously kicked the eastern quadrant's ass to Hell and back in the 250-year war. And that victory was the result of the advanced satellite technology that wasn't affected by spells, allowing them to see the army headed towards them before it even got within the atmosphere. It was so successful, the program was required to be installed in every camera in a palace, museum, or - and this is the real kicker - any prison. So if you'd like, then please; keep thinking the military base on the most maximum security prison known to man doesn't have cameras. I'll see you back here bright and early for breakfast."

Maeve and Audra gaped, as Krystal bit her lip fiercely, trying not to react. "Who are you?" Audra asked finally.

"My name is Valentine, and I have been here for far too long. I've spent years planning an escape, and I know more about this place than anyone. Your plan, though flawed, shows some of the most potential I've ever seen. I would be happy to volunteer my extensive knowledge to improve on the weakness-"

"But let me guess," Krystal interrupted, arms crossed over her chest. "You're not going to do this for nothing. You want in."

He smiled. "I knew you were a bright girl, Krystal."

"No way-"

"Krys, you heard him," Maeve said. "We've got a major weak spot and no way to fix it, not without regrouping for another week or so. And I don't know about you, but if I have to stay here one more day, I'm going to lose it."

"Yeah," Audra chimed in. "I can't take any more of this place. I can just feel the dry air sucking my magic with every passing day. I need rain."

"By all means, ladies, keep debating if that's what makes you happy," Valentine interjected. "But the guards will be switching watches soon, and I'd really rather not be caught out when that happens. I've never actually experienced the punishment for that, but it doesn't sound fun."

The other two looked expectantly at Krystal, who finally heaved an enormous sigh. "Fine. If you can help us, you're in. But don't get any ideas about-"

"I had no idea it was such a page-turner."

I practically jumped out of my skin, spinning around with one hand raised and starting to produce a fireball, which I quickly cut off when I remembered where I was. Thankfully it didn't look like the magic had reached my hand, just left it a little warm.

Thomas took a step back at my raised fist, but still had an arrogant smile on his face. "Sorry, sorry; I didn't mean to startle you."

"You hardly look sorry," I said, lowering my hand. I placed the pages on my desk, making sure they didn't accidentally land in an open container of paint or something (Gaby swore that our biggest expense here was not paper, but all the paint I wasted). "What do you want?"

"I came here because Gaby told me she sent you my draft to read through." He cast a knowing look towards the desk. "I see you like it."

"It's... interesting." In truth, Gaby had been right - it was fantastic. I'd picked it up out of idle curiosity when my drawing hand was screaming for a break, and hadn't been able to put the damn thing down since. But there was no way I was admitting that to Thomas, especially since he was smirking at me like he already knew how I really felt without me having to say a word. "Risky choice, to tell a story from the villain's point of view," I added, trying to sound confident. "That could just as easily blow up in your face as it could become the next bestseller."

He shook his head. "So quick to call Valentine a villain."

I arched an eyebrow. "You can't have it both ways. You do such a spectacular job with the imagery in describing Alpha, and then you expect me to believe our main character isn't a bad guy? He's just, what, wrongfully accused?"

"I never said he hasn't done bad things." Thomas took a few steps out of the doorway into the main body of my office, and I didn't know how to tell him I didn't want him to come any further without sounding rude. Instead, I busied myself with tidying up the open paints on my desk, trying not to look at him. "But he's not evil through and through. As the story progresses, we start to see a different side of him, and learn more about the reasons why he did the things he did. At heart, the book is about exploring what makes someone a 'bad' person, and whether parts of a person's past can affect their ability to have a better future. Valentine's not black or white, and that's what I think makes him so much fun to write. And hopefully, to read."

"You seem awfully invested in this character."

Thomas chuckled. "Curious, isn't it? I mean, I know all authors connect with their characters on some level. But out of everything I've ever written, I feel the most connected with him. It's odd, because I've had people tell me it happens, and I just feel like... I'm on a deeper level than they are. They can't begin to understand the way I see it." He paused, and that smirk came back. "And now you're staring at me like I'm a wild animal out of its cage. Perhaps I've said too much."

"No, no. Your point of view is... unique, but not anything new. Trust me, I've heard people ramble on and on about the personal connections they have with their characters. Bring in your sketchbook full of character designs, and then I'll be impressed."

"Remind me to leave it at home."

My eyes widened. "You do not have a book full of character sketches."

He just shrugged. "I got bored."

"When I get bored, I watch TV, or play stupid games on my phone."

His gaze shifted pointedly to the art supplies on my desk. "You don't draw outside of work?"

I pursed my lips. Ever since moving back to Earth, whenever I tried to draw for fun, my hands ended up working independently of my body and sketching things I didn't want to remember - my dorm room at Alfea, Stella's princess ball, the mermaids on Tides... Eventually, I'd given up on it as a hobby. "I have to draw the line between business and pleasure somehow," I said coolly, quickly sweeping the paints and pencils into a drawer without making sure all the lids were secure (a fact I knew I'd pay for later). "And anyway, I looked at your overview. You have, what, almost twenty different characters? That's a little more than a boredom-killer, if you ask me."

"Like I said the other day, a lot of this stuff comes to me in dreams. When I wake up, I don't want to forget any of it, and most of the time it's faster just to draw what I remember than try to describe it in words." He cracked a grin. "Which means I can't say much about the quality of the drawings, since they're usually done at three in the morning."

"So, you get your ideas from dreams? Please tell me there aren't any vampires in this story."

He laughed. "That woman gives writing a bad name. Trust me, Valentine's story is completely vampire and werewolf-free."

I raised an eyebrow. "What about the overly-clichéd love triangle?"

"Now that would certainly spoil the story." I opened my mouth to protest, but he held up a finger. "Sorry, you'll just have to read it yourself."

"Well, that could be a while. I've got some illustrations I need to finish this week, with a lot of details to get done."

He took a step backwards, holding up his hands in a defensive position. "Far be it from me to keep you from your work," he said, a hint of an amused smile creeping into the corners of his lips. "However, I may have a solution."

"Do you now?" I asked, reaching under the table to move some wires.

"I was hoping to finally cash in on that lunch date."

My head snapped up so fast I knocked it against the underside of the wooden tabletop. I swore and pressed my hand against the back of my head, hoping to dull the pain. "You... what?"

"I didn't realize the proposal of a date was so shocking. My apologies."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on a minute. Yesterday it was just a friendly lunch to go over your story; when did the word date become involved?"

He laughed. "Have a boyfriend, do you?" My cheeks burned bright red. "I promise to keep things completely professional. But this only further proves my point - I don't know very much about you, and if we're going to be working together, then I'd like to get to know you better."

My head was beginning to throb, which I knew would turn into a full-blown headache soon despite my best efforts. "Um, today's not great - I was planning to work through lunch for this deadline - and then tomorrow I'm meeting with Laura, and..."

"Friday?"

I tensed. "Friday? Well, Gaby usually calls me in for those silly weekly meetings then. You know her; wants to make sure we're all doing well on the deadlines and getting along with everybody-"

Thomas laughed again. "You're kidding, right? The minute she finds out you're in her office instead of out with me, she'll probably make reservations and hire us a limo."

My eyes widened. "Did she put you up to this?"

He smirked knowingly. "Asking you out? I will admit she's been hinting at it ever since I stepped in the door, but trust me, I'm offering because I want to get to know you. It has nothing to do with Gabrielle."

The comment caused me to blush. "Oh. Well..."

"I'm sure she'll forgive you if you slip off for a few hours with me. Especially if it means getting the book published faster."

Slowly, I nodded. Why the hell not? I didn't have anything to lose, and if I kept avoiding Thomas like the plague, not only would it take forever for the book to get published, but Gaby might seriously consider firing me. "...Okay. I guess Friday sounds good. In fact, I think I know a place we can get a good discount." I had never been so grateful for Ellis's absent mind; there was no way I was going out with this guy without a person I knew, even if all he'd be doing was bringing me a drink.

"Ah, a girl paying for the first date. I like it."

"Nuh-uh. No 'date.' Just a friendly lunch to discuss your book."

Thomas smiled - genuinely smiled - and it almost took my breath away. After a moment though, he seemed to realize he was doing it, and his face returned to a neutral slate. However, I could still see a little light in his eyes. "Well alright then. Friday it is." He headed towards the door.

"I-I don't, by the way." The second the words left my mouth, I wanted to take them back.

He paused in the doorway, obviously not following. "You don't what?"

I considered dropping it, but I knew I would kick myself for it later. Instead, I took a deep breath. "H-have a boyfriend. I haven't dated in years."

When he turned around to face me, my breath caught in my throat. The angle of the late-morning sun coming through the window had lit his eyes to gold, and combined with the amused and slightly predatory gleam in them, it was like seeing a ghost. "All the better, then," he said, his voice soft. "I'll see you on Friday, Bloom."

The minute he was out the door, I sat down in my desk chair with a loud thump and started rummaging through my drawers to find the aspirin; I was going to need it if I planned on getting any work done.

This was getting ridiculous. Riven had sent me his death certificate, for God's sake. Baltor was dead, and had been dead for four years, and more so, I had killed him. There was no reason to be getting into such a tizzy over someone who had a slight resemblance. It was like I'd told Anna; seventy-three billion people in the universe.

Absently, I picked up the manuscript, flipping through the pages. It really was an interesting book. I'd only gone through a few pages, and I was already hooked. Yet at the same time, I felt like I'd read this story before...

I sighed. Of course it sounded familiar. Most science fiction stories used the same basic elements: barren prison worlds, the team that wanted to take over the universe, and the good guys who eventually stopped them. I'd lived that story more than enough times to know the plot. It was all in my head.

It had to be.

The other two looked expectantly at Krystal, who finally heaved an enormous sigh. "Fine. If you can help us, you're in. But don't get any ideas about being in charge. This is still my plan, my escape."

Valentine inclined his head slightly, the barest minimum of a nod. "Of course. It would be foolish to think otherwise."

The cargo ship was dark and cold, filled with heavy metal crates that were too easy to hide behind. The men doing the unloading had barely glanced in the cargo hold before taking off, obviously not thinking anyone could've possibly escaped the pit and stowed away in their ship.

Their mistake, thought Valentine.

x

The three witches were huddled in one corner, whispering among themselves. He could've listened in if he cared to, but instead, he was staring aimlessly at the wall, trying to process this new turn of events. It almost didn't feel real, how after all his years of patiently waiting and plotting an escape, he was finally free of the infernal pit.

And, he'd realized, he had almost no idea where to go from here.

The walls jolted as the ship hit a patch of turbulence. Krystal looked up from their little triumvirate and caught his eye. "Why were you sent to Alpha, Valentine?" she asked, her stare piercing.

For the first time since he'd set foot on the sand above the pit, Valentine felt himself smile. "If the gossip is correct - and I've found that in prison, those things usually are - then I did what you ladies tried to do. Only they had to work a lot harder to catch me."

Krystal's eyes narrowed, while Maeve and Audra looked vaguely impressed. "And what are you going to do now that you're free?"

"I'm not quite sure. Granted, there are certain... people, whose reunions with me are long overdue. The question is how to go about it."

"I'm always a fan of a man who craves revenge." Maeve smirked, her voice deeper than it'd been a moment ago. She was obviously trying to impress him, and the thought made Valentine smirk inwardly.

"We're looking for a few people ourselves."

"So I've overheard. This... Rachel? You three could write horror movies with the descriptions you've come up with."

Krystal's eyes darkened. "You have no idea. That little bitch is the source of all our troubles. She and her little friends got us thrown in here in the first place. And we're looking to get even."

"Ah. And how do you plan to do that if she's already defeated you twice?"

She smirked. "I have a few ideas. However... you know the old saying; 'the more the merrier.'"

Valentine raised an eyebrow. "You're asking for my help?"

"Not help so much as... temporary assistance. Like you said, we can't just go barging in again and expect to take them down. And you need time to work out your own plans. Our combined efforts have gotten us this far; why break up such a good relationship, when it's barely even started?"

My, how her attitude had changed. Valentine could sense her manipulative skills, but unlike her friends, he could easily see through them. That didn't mean, though, that he didn't see the truth to what she was saying.

He had been stuck in the pit for far too long, after all. The world was likely to have changed in all that time, and it couldn't hurt to have backup, at least at first. And in all the years he'd spent planning his escape, he'd given little thought as to who needed to be reminded of his existence - and how. That was something which would definitely need to be rectified...

"So long as we're clear on the nature of this... partnership. You ladies are obviously clever, ambitious, and powerful, and as a team, we are likely to have a greater chance of achieving our separate goals. But don't expect me to follow anyone's orders."

Krystal held his stare, looking perfectly composed. "Of course. It would be foolish to think otherwise."

He caught the underlying sarcasm in her using his own words against him, but chose not to comment. However powerful she thought she was, he knew his talents far exceeded her own. "Well then, ladies, I do believe this is the beginning of something brilliant."

The cargo ship lumbered through space, its pilots completely unaware of just what they were really bringing back with them.

Why hello there!

So, if you're anything like me, you've just spent the last hour totally fangirl-ing over the Once Upon A Time premiere (cough-RumBelle-cough). So, to get your mind off of those feels, Authoress and I decided to give you these. :-)

Now, I've gotta say it; we seriously hope you like the exerts from Thomas' book. We're having so much fun working with that. And maybe you've noticed it's a bit familiar...I'm sure it's a coincidence (lies).

But of course, I digress. We really hope you like this chapter, and you're looking forward to Thomas and Bloom's date in the next chapter. And I know I don't even need to mention how easy it is to review now, right?

Have an awesome week, everyone!

ember & Authoress