"Food!" one of the guards calls out.

"The food here is supposed to be exceptionally bad," Moriphos says. I've heard that too.

I'm curious to see how my meal will taste. But I can imagine who Akara means. I could picture a dark-haired guy with fascinating dark gray, almost black eyes.

I'd be interested to see what this mysterious man looks like. He’s said to be of my race. That's why I still have a few questions for him.

Now that I know my family isn't from Earth, I at least want to know where they come from.

I follow the crowd, but as I was advised, I stay at the back of the group. Moriphos tries to convince me to follow him so we can get in line further ahead, but my goal is different.

"Okay, so you want to stand," he says as he bids me farewell.

I'm not prepared for what awaits me.

When I enter the room, I see the first prisoners standing. Anything is better than tasting the food that everyone else reluctantly consumes.

Their faces certainly don't look too happy as they eat.

When it's my turn, Akara smiles at me.

"What's this about?" Tosa demands to know. "If Torso finds out, you're in for big trouble!" She looks at the older woman in disbelief. "I'm not taking the blame for this!"

"You won't have to!" Akara tells the girl. "If he finds out, I'll take responsibility."

Tosa sighs and turns away from us, retreating to a back area that can't be seen from here.

"If you want seconds, stay a little longer," Akara says with a smile on her lips.

"Thank you!" I reply.

Next, I look around the room for a place to sit – any spot where I can settle down to eat. I try not to trip over the other prisoners who have made themselves comfortable on the floor.

Unsuccessfully. Not a single free spot is available. I’m about to settle for a patch of floor when someone suddenly grabs my arm as I pass by.

"I'd gladly offer my place to such a charming lady."

I look up, surprised, into Moriphos' smiling face, then down at the full bowl he's sliding back and forth.

"This disgusting stuff, no one can get it down!" he snorts.

"You just need to be hungry enough!" a man at the table calls out.

"And eventually, your taste buds will be destroyed," another man adds. A chubby guy shovels the mush into his mouth.

"Close your eyes and nose, then swallow it down!" another advises.

"I'd rather starve than eat something like that!" Moriphos snorts. He gets up and lets me take his place at the table.

"Thanks!" I smile at him before sitting down. The men at the table regard me with interest, some even with delight. I decide it’s best to steer clear of those ones.

"The number of ladies here has been increasing for the past few days," one mentions.

I poke at the mushy mass that's supposed to be my meal with the spoon. It doesn’t look appetizing. But they said this is usually Torso's meal. So it must taste good!

I muster my courage, take the spoon, and put some of the mush into my mouth.

The men look at me with interest as I realize that although it looks terrible, it has an interesting taste—somehow fruity and damn delicious. They seem even more intrigued when I swallow the small bite.

"You have to live off something!" I shout loudly before putting the second spoonful into my mouth. I must control myself to maintain my disgusted expression. The stuff is actually damn tasty!

"Brave girl!" one of the men calls out approvingly.

I keep eating.

"Come on, tell me how long they kept you starving," Moriphos demands. He looks genuinely concerned.

"What kind of guy are you, anyway?" I ask curiously, instead of answering him. My previous fear of him has now vanished.

He looks at me in surprise.

"I come from a place where you're considered crazy if you believe in beings from other planets," I explain to him.

"I'm a Zeitstürmer," he tells me.

"Well, that’s someone who didn’t do his job properly," one of the men at the table mocks. "You’re known for never getting caught. At least that’s what you brag about."

Anger rises in Moriphos.

"That damned Otscharsan!" curses the big man. He regains his composure and continues. "We use technology that allows us to travel through time. But only to the past and back."

I listen to his words with interest.

"Sounds amazing," I comment. "You could fix everything that ever went wrong."

Moriphos scratches his head.

"We don't think that way," he explains. "We try to steer everything into the right path, as fate intends." He pauses briefly. "On the side, we try to seriously irritate Torsos, but our principle is that we don't fundamentally change time."

"Theoretically, though, you could change whatever you don’t like about the present."

Moriphos smiles at me. He couldn’t agree more.

"It would be tempting to kill that arrogant bastard Torsos in the past," he admits. "But that would be against our code."

"Your comrades could have at least protected you from this fate."

"They certainly won’t help me." He sighs. "I’m not very popular with them. I just have too big of a mouth. And I even contradict our leader." He scratches his head, embarrassed.

I push the empty bowl away, then let my head sink onto the table.

The others return to their work while Moriphos looks at me briefly before heading back to the workroom.

I gratefully get my second portion.

For the rest of the day, I try to make myself useful but only get shooed away.