So much had happened in such a short amount of time, he had not taken any opportunity to simply take everything in. One thing right after another kept happening. The adventure never seemed to stop.

It had started before Hyda IV, the blinding headaches and the strange visions. He had not confessed his problems to his parents nor to his best friend. Fayt had hoped he could keep things to himself. He did not want them to worry, he loved them that much.

For a while, after fleeing Hyda IV, the headaches stopped and the dreams no longer assailed him. There were other things for Fayt to focus on.

It was only after his father died and he had learned of his abilities that the headaches and dreams returned in full force. Only this time, they were coupled with the agonizing ache of loss. His father's death was his fault, after all, just like the attacks on Hyda IV and Elicoor II. If he did not have his powers, if he had not been born, then those tragedies would have never happened, in Fayt's mind. However, he had no true way to make the pain disappear, no matter how many painkillers he took. The only thing they did manage to do were to make the visions more vivid, more intense, more . . . pleasurable, like they were more real when they really were nothing more than just fabrications of his mind. He should have stopped taking them, the painkillers, but he knew of no other way, even as the final battle drew closer and closer.

--

Luther was having the time of his life, watching his creations rise against him and do battle with him. For so long, he had been trying to kill time, to ease his boredom, and find something, anything, that could truly challenge him. This battle for the Eternal Sphere had given him most of what he wanted. Granted, he knew everything nearly all of the combatants were going to do. They were his creations, after all, and therefore predictable. That was except for one.

Whenever he caught glimpses into Fayt Leingod's eyes, he saw nothing. The younger man's eyes were void of any emotions or thoughts, and he did not act as if he felt any physical pain. Luther wondered about such enigmatic behaviour. Of course, Fayt Leingod had been always been an anomaly to him and something akin to a threat.

Now the nineteen-year-old seemed to be operating on auto-pilot, like his actions were no longer his own but those dictated to him. Luther did not like it. He wanted Fayt to rebel against him, to give him the challenge he so desperately craved. Fayt Leingod was the only one who could give Luther what he truly wanted. He knew it, felt it in the pit of his stomach, and he willed for his opposite to look at him, meet his gaze so he could understand.

In an odd little twist, as if answering his wish, green eyes landed on Luther and he held the younger man's gaze. He half-imagined he saw beyond the glazed look and into Fayt's soul. Of course, Luther knew about everything Fayt had endured. He, like so many others in 4D space, had watched everything play out, from the attack on Hyda IV to Dr. Leingod's death. Such events were sure to have left some kind of a mark on Fayt, but Luther saw none. He found he did not care for it, and he wondered what could have caused such a numb state for such a lively and entertaining young man. Luther continued to watch Fayt as the battle between them raged on, hoping to gain some more insight on this bizarre behaviour.

Finally, Luther grew tired of the game. The inhabitants of the Eternal Sphere wanted to live. That much was obvious to him, but not the reason for Fayt's detached behaviour. It was time to make the ultimate move, one that would still leave him gaining everything.

--

Fayt lay curled up on the bed, his entire body aching. What had possessed him to agree to Luther's terms, he did not know. He just knew he hurt, and he wanted the pain to end. He could not ask Luther for anything, though. To do so would be to admit he was weak, he was less than he seemed, and Fayt did not want that.

The bed dipped a little as somene sat next to him, but Fayt did not bother to move. He knew who was joining him.

'Luther.'

Strong and slender arms wrapped around his waist, one pulling him plush against Luther's body while the other traveled down his thighs. Hot breath ghosted against the flesh of his neck, and Luther embraced Fayt with his entire body.

"You look miserable," Luther commented, his hand caressing Fayt's leg. "Is it because you do not wish to be here? Or something else?"

Fayt did not answer. He did not want to answer. His throat had gone dry all of sudden, and his nerves erupted in a nervous tingle. Just what was Luther trying to accomplish?

"Must be something else," the blond murmured, his tone pleased. Luther's hand continued to caress Fayt's thigh. "Otherwise, you would have tried to escape from me."

"Why are you doing this?" Fayt managed to croak out.

"Hmmm . . . you feel warm against me, Fayt Leingod. You shouldn't for being mere Data. It makes me wonder . . ."

Teeth grazed against Fayt's neck, and he found himself slowly drowning in an ocean of sensations. He forgot his pain, forgot the guilt, and, for a moment, learned how to live once more.