The day of the wedding

Lena

The day I had dreaded finally arrived. The alien fortress was in a frantic motion, a carefully choreographed preparation for the wedding that Thorne and Kael had deemed inevitable. Although the alien sky remained desolate and colorless, the fortress was adorned with ornaments I barely recognized—symbols of power and union from a people who had long lost any trace of empathy for humans.

The clothes they had left for me were made of an unusual fabric, a blend of alien tradition and an attempt to make me seem part of their world. The dress was composed of a fine mesh that seemed to merge with my skin, shimmering under the light with iridescent colors that shifted as I moved. Bright circuits were interwoven into the fabric, pulsing in a rhythm that almost seemed to match my heartbeat. Each piece felt alive, as if the clothing itself had a purpose beyond just covering me—it aimed to mark me as a piece of their system, a figure in their controlled narrative.

As I prepared, I felt the invisible weight of the technology around me. The room where I stayed was a luxurious cell, with walls that were not just physical barriers but surfaces that monitored my every move. The embedded lights subtly changed color, adjusting to my presence, becoming warmer or cooler depending on my stress levels. The floor was made of a glass-like material that seemed to absorb the sound of every step, silencing any attempt to walk unnoticed. It was an environment that seemed to know more about me than I did myself.

The ceremony was set to take place in one of the grandest halls of the fortress, an immense chamber that exuded the coldness and grandeur of alien architecture. When I entered the hall, I was immediately overwhelmed by a sense of vastness and insignificance. The walls were made of dark, polished metal, with smooth surfaces that distortedly reflected the environment, creating ghostly shadows that moved with the guests. Holograms hovered in the air, projecting ancestral figures of alien leaders and warriors, as if the spirits of the past were present to witness this moment.

The ceiling, which seemed endless, was covered in a tangle of cables and lights intertwined like branches of a mechanical tree, pulsating with a blue-green glow. They were like the veins of a living being, transporting energy throughout the hall, and I couldn’t shake the feeling of being inside a colossal creature, more machine than building. The lighting came from floating spheres that levitated gently above our heads, emitting a soft light that danced like a field of distant stars.

In the center of the hall, a table floated slightly above the floor, supported by invisible magnetic fields. On it were alien artifacts—objects that seemed parts of advanced technology but also held symbolism I didn’t fully understand. It was as if each piece held its own story, a silent narrative of conquests and losses.

The chairs were arranged in a semicircle around an elevated altar, a piece of technology that rose from the floor like a metallic flower. The shining petals slowly opened, revealing a pulsating core that changed color and form, reacting to the presence of each person who approached. It was a clear display of the invaders’ power and sophistication, a constant reminder that I was on foreign and controlled territory.

Thorne was already there, waiting near the altar. He was dressed in his formal armor, a more ornate version of what he wore on the battlefield, with details that glowed in metallic blue, appearing alive and in constant motion. His boots made no sound as they touched the ground, and the cape he wore floated lightly as if defying gravity. He seemed like an extension of the environment itself—rigid, efficient, and built to dominate.

The alien official conducting the ceremony wore an even more elaborate outfit, with moving symbols projected on his clothing that changed as he spoke, reflecting his emotions and intentions. His words echoed through the hall like a digitized chant, blending the sound of a voice with the hum of machines that were part of his body. It was a sound that was both ancient and advanced, laden with a gravity that made the moment even more oppressive.

As he spoke, the floor beneath my feet began to vibrate softly, and I realized that the altar was reacting to the official’s words, amplifying the sound as if the very environment were absorbing and retransmitting the commitment we were about to make. Each word felt like an eternal promise, etched into the living walls of the fortress.

When it was my turn to speak, I looked directly at Thorne, and as I spoke my vows, I could feel the invisible tension in the air, as if every guest present was holding their breath. I was in a strange territory, surrounded by technologies I didn’t understand and alliances I didn’t trust, but even there, amidst all the alien grandeur, I refused to yield.

As the ceremony continued, I made a promise to myself to find a way to use everything around me to my advantage, exploiting every weakness Thorne might have, until true freedom was mine, and not just an illusory reflection on metal walls.