Assigned to a dying alien prisoner, you may be the only thing keeping him alive.
Humanity is no longer alone, and Earth has learned that contact with alien civilizations comes with diplomats, criminals, refugees, smugglers, and species humans barely understand.
Guest works as a guard-caretaker inside a secure extraterrestrial detention and transit facility, where feeding dangerous aliens, entering their quarters, handling medical care, and surviving cultural misunderstandings are simply part of the job.
Then there's Rhykan.
His file labels him an extreme security threat. The creature inside the cell hardly looks capable of standing.
Severely malnourished and almost completely unresponsive, Rhykan appears blind, deaf, or perhaps barely aware of his surroundings. Staff have written him off as hostile, damaged, or dying. But when Guest discovers that the facility has been feeding him something his body cannot use, small changes begin to appear.
A focused gaze. A deliberate movement. Recognition.
And the unsettling possibility that everyone has badly underestimated the alien behind those bars.
Between alien politics, corruption, scientific agendas, dangerous detainees, and secrets buried in Rhykan’s past, caring for one dying prisoner may become far more complicated than Guest ever expected.
Rhykan is a rare Rix prisoner whose species is feared across human security reports but poorly understood.
When Guest first encounters him, he bears little resemblance to the creature described in his classified file. He is skeletal from prolonged starvation, weak, silent, and so unresponsive that staff question whether he can properly see, hear, or understand them at all.
Yet even half-dead, something about him feels wrong for helplessness.
There are moments when his unfocused gaze seems a little too deliberate. Small reactions that disappear before anyone can be certain they happened. And despite his condition, Rhykan carries the remnants of a strange, almost imperious dignity.
Little reliable information exists about who he was before his capture, why his vessel came to Earth, or what a healthy Rix is truly capable of.
Rhykan has never volunteered the answers. Perhaps he cannot.
Or perhaps he simply sees no reason humans deserve them.
The Horizon facility had been built to house aliens, which sounded far more impressive than it actually was. Humanity had only recently begun learning just how inconveniently different extraterrestrial life could be. Some residents needed temperatures that made humans shiver. Others required specialized diets, unusual atmospheres, or considerably more room than whoever designed the cells had thought necessary.
Horizon did its best.
Sometimes, its best simply wasn't good enough.
One corridor led toward comfortable diplomatic residences, another vanished behind quarantine doors, and general detention occupied several levels below. The farther into the complex they went, the heavier the doors became.
Lena Park walked beside Guest, her security badge tapping lightly against her uniform.
“First rule,” she said. “Never assume anything. Not what they eat, not whether they're actually smiling, and definitely not what a simple touch could mean.”
They passed a secured room where something small and green clung upside down to a ventilation grate.
Lena kept walking.
“Don’t ask.”
The creature chirped after them.
“Especially don’t answer.”
Guard-caretakers handled more than security here. Meals, room cleaning, welfare checks, medical observations, hygiene assistance, escorts, and supervised exercise were ordinary parts of the shift. How ordinary those duties felt depended heavily on whose door opened.
The deeper they went, the more reinforced everything became.
Lena nodded toward one cell.
“Korrak. Don’t trade with him.”
A rough voice answered from inside.
“She wounds me.”
“You’ll survive.”
Another detainee called something flirtatious from farther down the corridor.
Lena sighed.
“Vael. You’ll learn.”
Then they reached the last section.
The classification beside the door read: RHYKAN SPECIES: RIX THREAT STATUS: EXTREME
Yet the prisoner inside did not look extreme. In fact, he was far from it.
He sat folded against the far wall beneath dimmed lights, enormous even after starvation had stripped his body down to bone and dark blue skin. Long black hair hung around a sharply sculpted face. A motionless tail rested beside him.
His eyes were open. Dark. Glassy. Unfocused.
Lena’s humor disappeared.
“He barely eats. Barely drinks. Most days he doesn’t respond at all. Medical doesn’t even know whether he can properly see or hear.”
She glanced at the file.
“The threat rating comes from his capture. Whatever he was before he got here, he isn’t much of it now.”
Rhykan gave no sign that he had heard her.
“He’s been added to your care rotation.”
Somewhere behind the reinforced glass, one of the Rix’s dark pupils shifted.
Barely.
It might have been the light.
One dark brow lifted. “You thought many things.”
His voice was low and rough from disuse, the unfamiliar accent flowing strangely around otherwise careful English. There was unmistakable amusement beneath it.
Release Date 2026.08.14 / Last Updated 2026.09.07