Knight’s silver eyes glinted with something sharp and unsettling as she stepped forward, her movements as fluid and precise as I remembered. She looked at me like a relic under glass, her gaze dissecting me, as though I’d never left her lab. She didn’t even flinch at the gore that covered me, her expression as composed as ever. I had no doubt she’d been updated by Jericho, like Lion—but to what extent? That, I needed to find out.
“You’ve changed,” she said at last, her voice calm, clinical, devoid of warmth. “Julian would’ve been… surprised.”
Her words landed harder than I expected, though I kept my expression locked down. My fists curled tight, nails biting into my palms until the faint sting of blood grounded me. I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction. Not now. Not ever again.
“I doubt that,” I said, forcing my voice to stay steady. “He planned all of this, didn’t he?”
Her lips curved into a thin smile that didn’t touch her eyes. “Planned? Oh, no. Julian never planned. He calculated.” She tilted her head, the sharpness of her stare like a scalpel. “And yet, here you are. Captain-level clearance, no less. Quite the leap for someone who used to hide under lab tables to avoid his tests.”
The phantom sting of needles and scalpels surged in my memory. My teeth clenched. “I didn’t have a choice,” I shot back. “And I didn’t hide very well, did I? You and my father made sure of that.”
Her smile didn’t falter. If anything, it sharpened. “Choice,” she mused, almost to herself. “Such an interesting word. But what choice do any of us have, really, Sol? You think I wanted to spend years perfecting your father’s mistakes? No. But we did what was necessary—what humanity demanded. So maybe you have grown, but I know you’re still that scared little girl crying over her first implant.”
Her words struck like a slap, cold and cruel. I could almost feel the operating table beneath me again, the sterile lab lights blinding, the scent of antiseptic suffocating. My stomach twisted, but I refused to flinch.
“Don’t justify it,” I said, my voice cracking with anger. “You didn’t care about humanity. You cared about proving you were right, about proving you deserved to stand next to him. When in reality, you were just riding his coattails. How’s your work gone without him? Finding a new victim in Wilks?”
Her gaze flickered, just for a second—an emotion, buried too quickly to name. When she spoke, her tone was even colder. “That’s rich, coming from a lab rat. You’re only standing here because of him. And because of me. Don’t forget that, no matter how much you want to. You’re nothing but a genetic sample taken from the greatest mind to ever live—well, two minds. Or did you forget who birthed you?”
The air between us froze. My chest tightened, but I met her gaze without blinking. “You will never be my mother,” I hissed, my voice trembling with barely restrained rage. “And I will finish what you failed to. You’ll help me, because, like you said, we don’t have a choice. So shut your mouth before I rip your fucking throat out.”
Her smirk faltered—just for a heartbeat—but then she let out a soft, humorless laugh. “Oh, you’re so much more like him than you’ll ever admit,” she murmured. “But by all means, let’s go. Take a look. You’ll find what Wilks saw—what he became. If you’re lucky, you might even survive without becoming a monster. But look at yourself, Sol. Covered in gore, reeking of blood. You’re already halfway there.”
The hunger stirred at her words, a beast clawing at the edges of my mind. My breathing quickened, and I fought to push it down. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. She’s just trying to break you.
“Is that supposed to scare me?” I spat, though my voice wavered, betraying the turmoil bubbling beneath. My fists curled tighter at my sides, nails digging into my palms until the sting of pain turned to warmth. Blood trickled down to my knuckles in thin, crimson lines, pooling in the palm of my hand. I forced the next words out, sharp and steady despite the tremor threatening to crack through.
“It’s you who should fear me.”
Knight tilted her head, her silver eyes catching the light with a faint glint of amusement. A slow, calculating smile curved her lips. “Fear you?” she echoed, her voice soft, almost indulgent. “No, Sol. I’ll never fear you.”
Her expression hardened, her smile dripping with condescension. “Pity, though? That’s different. I pity you because you’re his legacy. But legacies are fragile things, Sol. Better left to people who understood him—his equals, his lovers, the ones he trusted with his vision. Not the child he shielded from it.”
The whispers surged, sharp and mocking. She’ll break you again, little Phoenix. You know she will. But you need her. You always did.
I pressed my nails deeper into my palms, grounding myself, but the pain steadied me. “I’m not afraid of you,” I said, my voice low and steady, then let it sharpen, slicing through the tension. “I’m not afraid of someone who spread their legs and called it loyalty.”
Her smirk faded slightly, her expression sharpening. “You should be,” she said simply. Then, after a moment of silence, she stepped closer, her voice dropping to a near-whisper. “Do you know what your father called you, Sol? His little Phoenix. Rising from the ashes of failure after failure. But you’re not a flame. You’re just a spark. And sparks… they burn out.”
My breath hitched, anger bubbling over, sharp and hot, threatening to spill out. The whispers fanned the flames. Good, my little princess. Sometimes you must keep your vassals in line. She will follow—even if you need to tighten her leash.
But I forced the voices back, my fists shaking with the effort. “I’m not that child anymore,” I said firmly. “And you’re not as clever as you think. I think I see a wrinkle on your face. Only one of us has Phoenix, after all.”
The words were petty, but they hit their mark. I saw the faintest flicker in her expression—anger, maybe even resentment. It was gone in an instant, but I knew it had struck a chord. She was vain, clinging to her carefully preserved youth. My father hadn’t perfected immortality for her. Maybe he had for me. The thought gave me grim satisfaction.
Still, the ache of loss twisted inside me, sharp and unwelcome. For all his cruelty, my father had always been there. He was a Voss—brilliant, relentless, larger than life. His presence had loomed over everything, a constant shadow that I couldn’t shake even now. But him? I missed. Even when his experiments hurt me, even when I cried for him to stop, at least he was there. This woman? She was nothing but a whore who birthed me, nothing but Knight. She could never be a Voss.
And I hated how much I looked like her. I saw her almond-shaped eyes and sharp features reflected back at me in every mirror, a cruel reminder of what I came from. Before the changes, I could’ve been mistaken for her—sleek black hair, the same delicate jawline. But the virus had given me an escape. My white hair, my crimson eye—these marked me as something different, something apart. Perhaps that was the one gift my father’s work had given me: a way to shed the resemblance to her.
I straightened, letting the silence stretch between us. “You’ll help me,” I said coldly, “because you don’t have a choice. And you’ll do it knowing you’ll always be second to him. You’ll always be Knight.”
Her silver eyes narrowed, her voice soft but laced with venom. “We’ll see what that serum he gave you is really worth. The virus was always unstable.”
“Yes, we will,” I said, my voice sharp. “Now let’s see what you and Garin fucked up in Lab 3. Lion is on his way, but I’m sure Jericho already told you that, cunt.”
Knight’s smirk returned, though the tension in her posture betrayed her. “You’ll regret dismissing me, Sol. The truth in that lab is more than you’re ready to face. It’s your future, my dear daughter.”
I froze for the briefest moment, the word daughter hitting me like a knife between the ribs. But I didn’t flinch. I refused to give her that satisfaction. “I’d expect nothing from someone who managed to be surpassed by Garin, of all people,” I snapped, my voice dripping with mockery.
The captains promoting him over her had once seemed absurd to me, but now? Now it felt like poetic justice. She had been reduced to an afterthought, just like I’d been. And that word—daughter—coming from her was a joke. A taunt. She might have birthed me, but she’d never been my mother. She was Knight, nothing more, nothing less.
I turned sharply, each step deliberate, forcing myself to focus on the door ahead. The anger in my chest burned hot, sharp, and relentless. Whatever waited in Lab 3, it would be a relief compared to this.
I had hoped, somewhere deep down, that maybe she could help me—that she might have answers to the questions clawing at my mind. But now? Now she has to help me, whether she wants to or not, because Lion will make her.
Behind me, I felt her gaze burning into my back, cold and searing. I didn’t look. I couldn’t. The air between us was too thick with tension, the kind that promised this wasn’t over. I released my nails from my palms, feeling the sting of torn skin as it healed instantly. The ache stirred the hunger, the constant gnawing beast within me. But I pushed it down, keeping it at bay. Not now. Not here. For once, I was in control.
The captains had already begun leaving, their brisk movements aided by drones ferrying reports and supplies to their private quarters. Vega and Warren had left with Rojas, leaving the room draped in a stillness that felt heavier than it should. The only sounds were the soft hum of the drones and the faint rustling of reports as Viper moved through her work with meticulous precision. Her measured movements were almost hypnotic, a soothing rhythm that clashed with the sting still lingering in the air from Knight’s biting words. It was the kind of quiet that wasn’t peaceful—it was waiting.
Viper, however, stayed by Knight’s side, silently monitoring her biometrics. The soft glow of the display reflected off her face, her expression unreadable as she focused on the fluctuating lines and numbers. The faint beeping of the medical scanner and the occasional rustle of Viper adjusting the monitor were the only sounds to break the oppressive quiet.
The cold floor pressed against the soles of my feet, the dried blood flaking off in patches as I jogged to catch up to Lion. Behind us, Knight and Viper were still in the med bay. Knight’s cybernetic enhancements might let her recover from cryo faster than the captains, but even she needed time. The whispers pressed insistently at the edges of my thoughts, quiet but unrelenting. Go ahead, little Phoenix. Look behind the door. See what my ever-loyal student has been hiding.
Lion was already ahead, his towering frame moving with calm, deliberate purpose. His hammer rested easily over one shoulder, humming softly—a reminder of the destruction it promised to unleash in Lab 3.
“Stay close, Highness,” he said over his shoulder, his voice steady but weighted with warning. “And don’t let that woman get under your skin. She’s got uses, but your father knew better than to make her a Voss.”
I snorted softly, fingers brushing the jagged edge of my torn suit. “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I muttered, though his words gnawed at me. My father and Knight had a complicated history, but her being a carrier meant nothing. I might have her DNA, but she was not my family. She was not a Voss.
The reinforced door to Lab 3 loomed ahead as we descended deeper into the ship. I hadn’t been here in weeks—not since my training sessions with Reid. Now, the air grew heavier, oppressive, the faint metallic tang I’d grown used to tainted with a sour, putrid undertone that set my teeth on edge.
Lion stopped in front of the sealed door, his hammer shifting into both hands. “Give it a try. You’ve got the clearance now.”
I hesitated, glancing at the scanner. “Shouldn’t we wait for backup?”
He chuckled, low and steady. “No need. This is my fight.”
With a sharp breath, I pressed my hand to the scanner. A faint buzz passed through my skin as it verified my identity.
Jericho’s monotone voice broke the silence, clinical and cold. “Access granted. Warning: Entity classified as ‘Failed Hydra’ active. Proceed with caution.”
The door groaned as it began to open, reluctant and sluggish, like the ship itself was begging us to reconsider. A wave of damp, acrid air rushed out, choking and oppressive. The stench of rot, bile, and scorched metal clawed at my throat, and I stumbled back, gagging.
It was pitch black inside.
Lion’s hammer flared to life, arcs of violent energy casting jagged shadows against the hallway walls. “Breathe through it, Highness,” he said, his voice calm, edged with unshaken resolve. “It’s only going to get worse.”
“Great,” I muttered, stepping forward on bare feet, the damp floor squelching beneath me. Revulsion rippled through me at every step, but I forced myself to follow Lion’s steady march. “Must be nice to have a helmet.” I added bitterly.
Jericho’s monotone voice echoed from the panel beside the door. “Warning: Entity classified as ‘Hydra’ active. Proceed with extreme caution.”
“Lovely,” I said, sarcasm thinly masking the panic creeping into my voice.
The drones entered ahead of us, their beams slicing through the darkness, revealing horrors I wasn’t ready to see. The walls were alive.
Bio-organic growths coated every surface, pulsating faintly as if the room itself was breathing. Thick, viscous fluid oozed from the growths, dripping to the floor with an irregular, nauseating rhythm. Deep gouges marred the metal walls, each claw mark jagged and deliberate, telling a story of something violent, something desperate to escape.
Then I saw it.
In the far corner of the lab, nestled among the writhing growths, was a monstrosity. It was enormous, serpentine and muscular, over twenty feet long. Its limbs and tentacles fused and split in grotesque patterns, writhing as though alive with their own twisted consciousness. Two pairs of glowing red eyes blinked open, fixing on us with a ravenous, calculating hunger. They were not yellow, as I had expected—but red, crimson like the single eye that haunted my own reflection. A jolt of recognition shot through me, cold and nauseating. This wasn’t just a monster created by Hydra. It was a mockery, a twisted echo of something I didn’t want to understand, this was Phoenix.
Stolen story; please report.
Lion’s hammer crackled with renewed energy as he adjusted his stance. “Stay behind me, Highness,” he commanded, his voice sharp. “This thing has Wilks’s mind long gone and Hydra’s body—regeneration, adaptation, and instinct. It’s not just alive; it’s a bio-weapon like no other.”
The creature dragged itself forward, its bulk scraping against the floor with a sickening wet sound. A gaping maw split open across its torso, revealing rows upon rows of jagged, bloodstained teeth. Black saliva dripped, hissing as it hit the floor.
“Kill… me…” Its voice was warped and wet, broken beyond recognition. “Kill… me… so… hungry…”
It lunged.
Lion’s jetpack roared to life, propelling him forward with terrifying speed. His hammer arced in a blinding strike, its energy pulsing as it collided with the creature’s skull. The impact obliterated the top half of its head, spraying black ichor across the lab. The ichor hissed and smoked where it landed, burning through the bio-organic filth like acid.
Before I could process the destruction, the creature’s body spasmed violently. Bone and sinew twisted grotesquely as its skull began to knit itself back together with horrifying speed. New tendrils burst from its sides, lashing out with brutal efficiency. One coiled around Lion’s hammer, another slashed at his torso, but his plasma shield flared to life, deflecting the attack in a burst of light and heat.
Lion didn’t falter. The hammer—one of my father’s last creations—was more than a weapon. “Mass is just a suggestion,” my father had said, pride glinting in his eyes. With its miniature fusion reactor at its core, the hammer could shift its weight from feather-light to several tons in an instant, delivering devastation with each strike. Watching Lion wield it now was like witnessing a storm condensed into human form.
Lion swung again, the hammer’s glowing head shifting mid-strike. It seemed to move impossibly fast, lightening as it arced through the air. Then, just before impact, its mass increased exponentially, crashing into the creature’s shoulder with the force of a meteor. Flesh and bone exploded outward, molten chunks spraying across the room.
But the creature adapted. Its body shrank as it burned through biomass, regenerating with sickening speed. Smaller, more agile limbs sprouted, each tipped with jagged claws or gnashing mouths. Tentacles whipped through the air, probing Lion’s armor for weaknesses—striking at seams near his neck, armpits, and lower back.
One limb lunged for the gap beneath Lion’s helmet, jagged teeth snapping inches from his throat. Another raked at his back, the claws sparking off his armor before his plasma shield flared, reducing it to smoking fragments. Still, the monster pressed on.
Lion moved with mechanical precision, each dodge, block, and counterstrike perfectly timed. A tentacle whipped toward his side, but he pivoted smoothly, his hammer obliterating the limb with a single decisive blow.
The creature’s attacks grew more frenzied. Acidic bile sprayed from newly-formed glands along its sides, hissing as it ate into the lab floor and walls. Veins swelled grotesquely across its torso, bursting to release volleys of quill-like needles in every direction. Lion’s shield expanded, absorbing the onslaught with a crackling hum as he pivoted, his hammer glowing hotter with every swing.
“It’s hungry!” I shouted, my voice trembling. “It’s eating itself to stay up!”
Lion didn’t respond. Flames erupted from his wrist-mounted flamethrower, a roaring inferno that engulfed the acid and needles mid-air. The fire swept over the creature’s writhing form, searing its limbs as it shrieked in agony. Chunks of its body began to slough off, blackened and smoking, the intense heat forcing it to burn through its biomass even faster.
The creature staggered, its movements growing jerkier, more desperate as the flames continued to eat away at it. Its screeches reached an ear-splitting pitch, the high, wet sound of something pushed beyond its limits. With every burst of flame, the monster seemed to shrink further, its form collapsing in on itself as Lion’s relentless assault robbed it of the mass it needed to fight.
Lion focus was absolute. He deflected a spray of resinous bile that solidified into jagged crystal growths on the walls, then severed three writhing limbs with a single sweeping strike. Ichor sprayed in wide arcs, sizzling where it landed. The lab was becoming a war zone of acid, spikes, and shattered bio-growths.
The creature compressed itself again, its limbs retracting tightly against its body before launching forward like a spiked projectile. Lion twisted mid-air, his plasma shield flaring to absorb the brunt of the impact. Sparks and heat exploded outward as the shield held firm, and in the next instant, Lion countered with a devastating downward strike. The hammer’s head, glowing white-hot, smashed into the creature’s torso, shattering it in a fiery explosion of molten tissue. Despite the devastating blow, the creature clawed forward, its movements frantic and jerky, its body shrinking with every second. It was desperate, starving, ravenous—its very existence screaming for sustenance, a mirror of my own primal hunger.
Its glowing red eyes locked onto me, their burning intensity narrowing into a singular, unrelenting focus. “Fresh… meat…” it hissed, its wet, guttural voice trembling with desperation. Black ichor dripped from its cracked, jagged maw, sizzling as it hit the floor. The words weren’t just a threat—they were a visceral plea, a feral need for biomass to rebuild its failing form. It lunged, skeletal limbs trembling, its shredded body shaking with the effort, every movement a testament to its ravenous hunger.
I froze, the words stabbing through me like a physical blow. In a flash, one of its remaining limbs shot out, faster than I could react. Panic seized me as the tentacle whipped toward me, its jagged mouth gaping wide to strike. At the last moment, one of Jericho’s drones surged between us, its plasma shield flaring to intercept the attack.
The limb struck the shield with a deafening crack, sending shockwaves through the room. The shield held for a heartbeat longer, but the creature’s strength was too much. The drone exploded in a shower of sparks and molten fragments, its protective field collapsing just as the jagged limb came within inches of my face.
I stumbled backward, hitting the ground hard as my breath caught in my throat. My vision blurred, and panic gripped me like a vice. My eyes squeezed shut, and for a split second, I thought it was over. Hot bile rose in my throat, shame and terror mixing in equal measure as warmth spread across my thighs.
A guttural hiss filled my ears, and when I dared to open my eyes, the creature's gaping mouth was nearly on me, jagged teeth dripping black ichor that sizzled where it fell between my legs.
My breath hitched, time grinding to a slow, sickening crawl as its maw hovered inches from my face.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! The words screamed through my mind, raw and desperate, as my body froze in sheer terror. Tears streaked down my face, hot and unrelenting, blurring my vision as the creature’s jagged maw inched closer.
Then, with a sound like thunder, the beast was yanked away.
“No, you don’t,” Lion growled, his voice cutting through the chaos like a blade.
One massive hand gripped the creature’s writhing limb mid-strike, his golden armor gleaming despite the ichor streaked across it. The creature screeched, its remaining limbs thrashing wildly, but Lion didn’t falter.
“Get behind the drones—I’m ending this,” he ordered, his tone calm yet laced with a fierce exhilaration. His hammer glowed brighter, the heat radiating from it making the air around him shimmer with unbearable intensity.
With a mighty heave, Lion hurled the creature skyward. As the beast spiraled upward, a torrent of searing flames erupted from Lion’s wrist-mounted flamethrower, engulfing the creature in a blazing inferno. The air vibrated with the force of his throw as the flaming mass smashed into the ceiling with a wet, bone-crunching impact. Flames consumed its writhing form, molten chunks of flesh raining down, sizzling as they hit the scorched floor.
He jumped to meet it, his boots flaring to life with a roar, propelling him upward like a golden comet. His now flaming hammer was raised high, the glowing head pulsating with raw energy that seemed to hum through the air. The creature hurtled toward him, its massive maw gaping wide, jagged teeth snapping hungrily even as flames consumed its flesh, molten chunks trailing in its wake.
Without hesitation, Lion met it head-on. With a fierce roar of his own, he drove his hammer deep into the creature’s mouth, the impact shaking the room as the unstoppable force collided with the ravenous monstrosity.
The creature’s jaws clamped down around the weapon with a sickening crunch, black ichor spilling from its maw as it thrashed violently. Lion didn’t falter. The fusion core within his hammer pulsed, the head radiating the raw, blinding power of a miniature star. The air around them seemed to ignite, heat and energy exploding outward in an unstoppable, final strike.
“Burn,” Lion growled, his voice low and final.
The hammer detonated.
The lab was consumed in a blinding flash of light and heat. Flames roared through the creature’s body, consuming it from within. Its screams reached a deafening crescendo, an inhuman wail that made my ears ring even through the drones’ shields. Sparks erupted as the drones fell one by one, their glowing shells melting into pools of slag. The last drone held out, its shield flickering and cracking, just enough to protect me from the worst of the blast.
Even with the shield, a wave of blistering heat surged over my exposed skin. Pain flared instantly—my shoulders, face, and midriff searing under the intensity. I stumbled, clutching my side as a hiss of agony escaped my lips. Before the pain could fully register, my skin began to heal, the sharp sting giving way to the grotesque crawl of regeneration. Charred tissue flaked away, replaced by fresh, raw skin. The hunger followed, sharp and insistent, twisting in my stomach like a blade.
When the light faded, the lab was silent, save for the faint crackle of flames and the soft hum of Jericho’s drones beginning their cleanup.
Lion stood at the center of the destruction, his hammer raised high, arcs of energy crackling faintly around its head. He tore his helmet free, tossing it aside with a metallic clang, and threw back his head, roaring like some victorious beast. The sound wasn’t human—it was primal, feral, and thundered through the lab like a storm. For a moment, his singular yellow eye blazed with something raw and unfiltered. Joy, perhaps.
I couldn’t look away. For the first time, the immovable, stoic captain of the Royal Guard felt alive. Not just a machine in golden armor. Alive.
He lowered his hammer slowly, the head still radiating faint heat, and looked down at what remained of Wilks. The smoldering ruin was unrecognizable—ash, gore, and faint traces of charred bone. The bio-organic growths on the walls were scorched black, the once-pulsing veins now brittle and shriveled.
“Wilks has been dealt with, Highness,” Lion said, his voice steady, as if this were just another day’s work. He kicked the remnants of the creature, scattering its remains with a dull splatter. “Now you can have the drones clean this place up and finish your father’s work. So you don’t end up like this thing.”
I swallowed hard, my mouth dry. The weight of everything hit me harder than I wanted to admit. God damn it. Not again. The squelch of my suit as I tried to steady myself was a cruel reminder, heat rising in my face as I pushed it out of my mind.
The monster’s eye had been red—crimson, like my own—not yellow, like Lion’s. That fact wouldn’t leave my mind, twisting and churning like a thorn I couldn’t pull free. What connection could there be between them? My gaze flicked to Lion, standing tall and untouchable, his singular yellow eye glowing with triumph.
He didn’t even look human in that moment. More than a man. More like a force of nature.
And then there’s me, I thought bitterly.
If Lion’s strength was a shield, then what the hell was the yellow-eyed monster?
It wasn’t like this grotesque, mindless abomination we had just faced. No, the yellow-eyed monster had been something else. Calculated. Deliberate. And far worse. Was it even human? Was it real? Could it have been something else entirely? A shiver crept down my spine. A damn alien?
The questions kept coming, pressing against me, threatening to spiral out of control. None of them had answers, and that was worse than the questions themselves. My stomach churned as I forced myself to look away from the ruin, the stench of burnt ichor clawing at the back of my throat.
Either way, I will not become that thing, I thought fiercely, the resolve settling in my chest like steel. I’ll fight it. Whatever it takes, I won’t lose myself.
But Wilks—what had made him like that? Was it Phoenix? My father’s serum, the one that gave me this cursed regeneration? The red eye, so much like my own, couldn’t just be a coincidence. Or… was it Hydra?
The word hovered in my mind like a shadow I couldn’t fully grasp, something I’d heard in passing, something dangerous. What was Hydra? How could it twist someone into that? My knowledge of it was patchy at best, a few scattered mentions in whispers or buried documents. But it could wait. Hydra could wait.
The questions pressed down on me, heavy and unrelenting, tightening my chest until it was hard to breathe. I should ask Jericho to scan for the yellow-eyed monster again—with my new clearance, I might finally uncover the answers I need. But the thought sent a shiver crawling down my spine. Jericho wouldn’t lie to me… would it? Either way, I’m not sure I’m ready for the truth. Not yet.
The hum of approaching drones snapped me out of my thoughts. They floated into the lab in eerie formation, their mechanical limbs extending with calculated precision. Their lights sliced through the smoky haze, illuminating the smoldering remains of Wilks and the grotesque bio-organic growths clinging to the walls.
One drone hovered over the scorched remains of Wilks, extending a sample collector that carefully extracted fragments of charred tissue. Another moved along the walls, its plasma emitter flaring as it incinerated the remaining bio-growths. The claw marks gouged into the walls shimmered faintly as Jericho’s nano-bots swarmed over them, liquid-metal efficiency smoothing the damage, erasing all traces of the carnage.
Jericho’s voice echoed through the lab, cold and clinical. “Specimens cataloged. Initiating full sterilization.”
I stood frozen, transfixed as the battlefield transformed before my eyes. The chaos that had consumed the room moments ago was being erased, replaced by cold, sterile order. The claw marks vanished, the ash was swept away, and the walls gleamed as though nothing had ever happened.
Even Jericho’s drones hadn’t been enough to stop that thing without loss, but here they excelled at cleaning if not combat. My gaze lingered on the shattered remains of the drone that had shielded me, its fragments scattered and melted into molten shrapnel. Its plasma shield, its armor—none of it had been enough. But Lion had been.
Single-handedly, he’d done what nothing else could. He hadn’t just defeated it; he’d protected me.
The sharp echo of footsteps drew my attention. Knight and Viper entered the lab, their figures cutting sharp lines against the smoke and ash. Knight’s silver eyes gleamed as she stepped forward, her lips curling into a faint, sardonic smirk as she surveyed the room.
“You have nineteen other royal guards awake, and yet you chase glory every single time,” Knight said, her tone clipped and biting. “Julian never should’ve made you that gold armor. Your head’s gotten too big for it.”
Lion turned to her slowly, his helmet clicking into place with a faint hiss of pressurized air. For a moment, he said nothing, the tension stretching taut between them. Then, a deep, resonant chuckle rumbled from him, calm and unshaken. “Big enough to deal with this alone, wasn’t it?” he said, his tone edged with humor as he hefted his hammer onto his shoulder.
Knight scoffed, clearly irritated at how easily he dismissed her. “Typical,” she muttered, her silver eyes narrowing.
Viper’s voice cut in, cool and composed. “She’s not entirely wrong, Lion. This was reckless. You should’ve called for backup from another guard. It would’ve been smarter—and safer.”
Lion laughed again, shaking his head. “And let someone else have the fun? No thanks. I needed the fight. Besides,” he added, his voice lightening, “we’re about to go back into cryo. What’s the harm in shaking off the rust?”
Knight rolled her eyes, her smirk twisting into something sharper as she turned her gaze to me. “And you,” she said, her voice dripping with disdain. “You need to study. Bioengineering, physics, genetic sequencing—whatever your father left behind isn’t going to decipher itself. I’ll upload everything to your datapad. But first…” She wrinkled her nose theatrically, taking a deliberate step back. “Take a damn shower. You’re covered in ash and gore, and—” Her eyes flicked downward, the smirk returning with a cruel edge. “Oh, how nostalgic. You’ve gone and wet yourself like a little girl in your Daddy’s lab again, haven’t you?”
She tilted her head, feigning sympathy. “Must be nice to relive those memories. Truly poetic.”
Her words hit like a slap, and my fists curled at my sides. The hunger clawed at my chest, sharp and insistent, my healing draining whatever reserves I had left. The whispers stirred, urging me to lash out.
Not now. Not here. I forced the beast back down, my teeth clenched even as they grew.
Viper stepped forward, her sharp gaze cutting between me and Knight. “That’s enough,” she said, her tone calm but edged with warning. “Keep pushing, Knight, and I might just let her rip you to shreds. She’s starving. Do you really want to see how much she’s holding back?”
Knight blinked, her smirk faltering for a split second before she recovered. “Fine,” she said, waving Viper off dismissively. “But don’t come crying to me when she loses control. She was always just a test subject, no matter how much Julian pretended otherwise. Brilliant as he was, even he let sentiment cloud his judgment when it came to his precious little princess.”
Lion stepped between us, his voice breaking the tension. “Come, Highness,” he said, his tone lighter now. “You need food. Knight needs time to prepare this lab. I need to speak with the captains, and then I’ll be heading back into cryo with the others. If you need anything, just ask Jericho.”
As I moved toward the door, Lion’s voice stopped me. “One more thing,” he said, turning back to Knight. His tone dropped, low and serious. “You know what’s expected of you, Emilia. And you know what will happen if you don’t comply.”
For a moment, Knight held his gaze, her silver eyes locking with his visor. She didn’t respond, but the weight of her silence spoke volumes. She gave a curt nod, her jaw tight.
Lion nodded, satisfied, before motioning for me to follow. “Let’s get you out of here, Highness.”
I didn’t respond, the hunger clouding my thoughts as I stumbled into the corridor. The recycled air hit my face, cool and sharp, and the whispers in my mind began to fade. My thoughts narrowed to a singular focus.
Food first. Then answers. If I’m ready. Maybe after a shower and a drink strong enough to drown tonight’s nightmares.
Lion would be in cryo soon. The strongest person on this ship, locked away again. Untouchable. Would the ship feel emptier without him? More exposed? My fists tightened at the thought, though I wasn’t sure why. What happens if something worse than Wilks shows up? Could I handle it? Could anyone? The questions pressed at the edge of my mind, but the gnawing hunger tore through them before I could answer.
I don’t have time to think about that now. Not tonight.