The moment I woke, panic surged through me like wildfire. My lungs burned as I gasped for air, hands clawing at the restraints that bound me. The cryo chamber’s hum droned faintly in the background, almost drowned out by the pounding in my ears. The straps across my arms and chest felt suffocating, as if they were trying to crush the fight out of me.
Cold air prickled against my skin, and I became sharply aware of the robe I was still wearing—the one from my quarters. Its fabric clung to me, stiff and stained with dried blood from smashing the drones. The memory hit like a cold wind, sharp and visceral, stirring a gnawing hunger deep inside me.
I twisted against the restraints, the cold press of the cryo pod grounding me in the harsh reality of where I was—of what I’d endured. My heart raced, my thoughts a disjointed tangle. How long had I been under? The last time, it was fifty years. I’d been trapped, screaming in my dreams, unsure if they would ever wake me.
But this time... had it been minutes? Days? Years?
The disorientation was worse now. I wasn’t sure if I’d even dreamed at all. It felt too immediate, as though I’d simply blinked and was here again, frozen in that last, desperate moment. My body was slick with sweat, my muscles trembling as I tugged harder against the restraints.
Then I froze.
Movement.
It wasn’t me.
My breath hitched as my head snapped to the side, my vision still adjusting to the dim glow of the chamber. Two figures stood at the far end of the room, their outlines sharp against the faint light.
Lion.
Knight.
The sight of them sent a jolt through my chest, my panic giving way to wariness. I stopped struggling, forcing myself to breathe as my eyes locked on Lion. Towering at nine feet, his golden power armor was pristine, unmarred by scratches but adorned with intricate engravings that proclaimed his authority as Commander of the Royal Guard. A roaring lion emblem dominated his chest plate, radiating an aura of dominance. His hammer rested nearby, a silent reminder of his power. Without his helmet, his golden eye and unflinching cybernetic gaze bore into me, calm yet commanding, the embodiment of unyielding control.
Knight stood a few steps behind him, arms crossed over her pristine lab coat. Her silver eyes flicked between Lion and me, assessing. The corners of her mouth twitched, but it wasn’t a smile—it was something colder, sharper.
The whispers stirred, slithering through my mind like tendrils of smoke. Ah, my left and right hand… Lion, ever the leader, the general, and most of all, the killer. And Knight—my ruthless assistant, brilliant… and your mother.
My breath caught, the words wrapping around me like a noose, tightening with every syllable.
A commotion outside drowned out the chamber’s low hum. Muffled shouts rose in volume, sharp with tension:
“I’m not asking!” Warren’s voice cut through the din, brimming with authority and barely restrained anger. “Move aside, Eagle! Sol is part of my team, and I won’t stand by while—”
“—while what, Captain?” came a calmer reply. Eagle. Her tone was iron under velvet, unyielding in a way that made even Warren’s bark falter. “You’ve overstepped. Stand down. This matter doesn’t concern you.”
“It damn well does!” Warren’s frustration spiked. “She’s on my team and under my protection—this is a breach of—”
Eagle’s response sliced through his tirade like a blade: “No one passes. By my authority as Royal Guard, this area is sealed. Return to your post.”
The commotion outside faded into the background as Lion stepped closer, his towering form casting a long shadow across the pod. His golden eye gleamed faintly in the dim chamber light. “Ignore them,” he said quietly, his voice measured, commanding. “This moment isn’t for them. It’s for us.”
“What the hell is this, Lion?” I hissed, my voice trembling with anger and confusion. “What the fuck is going on?”
Lion’s golden eye fixed on mine, his expression unreadable. “We need to talk, Highness” he said, his tone calm but weighted with purpose. “About the secrets you’ve uncovered. About what you’ve seen—and what it all means.”
“Just how many secrets are you keeping from me?” I snapped, my voice rising. “From the crew? How much do you think you can bury?”
Lion said nothing, his jaw tightening briefly before he stepped back, letting the silence stretch between us.
Knight moved forward, her silver eyes locking onto mine with a cold, calculating intensity. Her pristine lab coat stood in stark contrast to the bloodied robe clinging to my skin. “Far more than you’ll learn here,” she said, her voice sharp and cutting. “But the truth is this: the captains think their clearances give them power,” she continued, her tone dripping with disdain, “but this isn’t their ship.” She gestured around the room, her voice softening into something almost reverent. “It’s Julian’s. Always was. They’re temporary stewards of something far greater.”
My throat tightened as I forced the words out. “What are you talking about?”
Knight tilted her head, studying me like a specimen under glass. “Your father’s mind—what’s left of it—is split between that monster you saw and Jericho’s AI. When he tried to merge his consciousness with this ship—Chimera, we call it—he failed. He fractured. Now we need you to bring him back together. It’s the only way to make him whole.”
I barely recognized the sound of my own voice when it came, small and fractured, as if speaking the words would make them true. “So… that thing—it’s part of him? What’s left of him?” My voice wavered, caught between disbelief and despair, each word splintering under the weight of the truth. “How can that be him?”
“He is fragmented,” Lion said, his voice almost pitying. “Yet, He’s still there, Sol, but the fractures are destroying him. And when he goes, Jericho goes too.”
Knight’s hand ran through her perfect hair, smoothing the black waves with deliberate ease. Her almond-shaped eyes, a sharp mirror to mine in shape but not in spirit, locked on me with cold disdain—calculated and cutting. Not my mother. Just my incubator, I thought. “And when Jericho collapses, everyone aboard dies with it. The captains pretend they’re in control, but they don’t see the truth. They think your father is dead—that his mind died with him.” Her lips curled into a sharp, knowing smirk. “That’s the story we let them believe.”
Her tone darkened, a venomous edge creeping in. “They’ve never trusted me. The moment your father was gone, they demoted me—replaced me with that fool Garin. They needed someone they could control, someone too shortsighted to question their authority.”
She stepped closer, her silver eyes narrowing. “When your father ‘died,’ the captains intervened, splitting his clearance among themselves to take control. It was a failsafe to keep the ship—and you—under their command.”
Her tone turned colder. “But Jericho, the part of him tied to this ship, still follows his fragmented protocols. The rest of him—the monster—is trapped, driven to madness by Phoenix. The captains pretend they’re in charge, but this ship was never meant to be theirs. It was always yours.”
I shook my head, struggling to keep up. “Then what was the plan?”
Knight’s smirk sharpened, her words cutting like glass. “Your father’s plan was to become Jericho—fully, completely. He believed he could guide humanity from this ship, just as he did on Earth before the world wars. Chimera was meant to complete that vision, to merge his mind with the ship and make him eternal.” Her silver eyes gleamed, a cold light of conviction. “But something went wrong. As Phoenix worked to heal his mind, the transfer tore it apart. The strain fractured him into pieces.”
Her voice softened, almost conspiratorial. “You, Sol, are the difference. Phoenix worked on you. It was tailored to your DNA. His attempt failed because it was rushed, but you’re proof it can succeed.”
I fought to keep my voice steady. “If Phoenix worked on me, why couldn’t it save him?”
Knight’s smirk remained, as cold and cutting as her words. “It’s hard to say—at least, not until we’ve tested you further. But the truth is, the captains would never have allowed it if they’d known our goal. They lack the vision for something so monumental. So, when Chimera failed, we let them believe he died in cryo. It was the simplest way to keep the dream alive.” Her voice dipped, almost reverent. “They think his brilliance is gone, but he’s still here, Sol—fractured, yes, but alive.”
Her voice turned cold. “To maintain control, they split authority among themselves—a failsafe they call democracy. It’s a lie. They’ve been stumbling ever since, blind to what this ship truly is. Bring him back, and Jericho returns to him. Only you can make that happen.”
Lion’s golden eye fixed on me. “Without your father, Jericho is vulnerable. The captains can manage the day-to-day, but they can’t wield this ship’s true capabilities. One real crisis, and their divided leadership will doom us. Only your father, restored, can keep us alive. Only you can fix Chimera.”
My fists clenched against the restraints. Fear coiled tight in my chest, but I refused to show it. “What about the captains? Do they know what you’re doing?”
The whispers stirred, cutting through my question with a cold chuckle. No, she’s too smart for that, my little Phoenix.
Knight scoffed, her tone sharp. “They suspect something. Why do you think they’ve kept such a tight leash on me since your father’s death? But they think he’s gone. Sabotaging Lab 3 forced their hand. When Warren found the Hemlock’s wreckage, their illusions started to crack. I knew they’d have to wake you.”
Her admission hit like a punch. “You sabotaged the lab?” My voice wavered, disbelief and anger colliding.
Knight didn’t flinch. “To save this ship, yes. Desperation always reveals the truth.”
Lion’s calm, unyielding tone cut through the tension. “You’re the key, Sol. Your father ensured Phoenix would bind to you. It was designed for your DNA. He locked the Royal Guard and parts of Jericho to your genetic code, ensuring no one else could unlock the ship’s full potential. Everything he built—everything he sacrificed—depends on you.”
He paused, his golden eye gleaming with a weight that made my chest tighten. “The full potential of Jericho isn’t just about survival—it’s our only hope if we face the same xeno scum that attacked the Hemlock. Your father believed humanity wasn’t meant to share the stars. We were born to inherit them, to claim them as our own. And for that, we need Jericho’s power, with him guiding us as he always intended, Highness.”
“Will you stop calling me that? My father and I were not royalty! And what if I refuse, huh?” The words escaped before I could stop them, my voice trembling with anger and fear.
Knight’s smirk widened, her silver eyes glinting with something cruel. “Then Reid dies.”
The world tilted as I gasped. “What?” My teeth sliced into my lips, the sharp tang of blood flooding my mouth, stoking the ever-growing hunger clawing at the edges of my control.
Lion stepped closer, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous rumble. “He’s a liability—the weak link. You care about him. If you break silence or let the captains step in, we remove the threat. I’ll do it myself, with my bare hands.”
I stared at him, the truth in his words cutting deeper than anything else. He wasn’t bluffing. I could see it in the unflinching resolve in his golden eye, the menace in his jaw.
The thought of losing Reid made my chest tighten. It shouldn’t have been different from the others’ deaths—but it was. His reckless humor, his rare ability to make me feel human, had carved out a space in the chaos I didn’t want to lose. The ache twisted sharper, harder to ignore.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
My fists clenched against the restraints as I forced myself to breathe, to stay silent—for now. The hunger roared within me, demanding release, but the memory of Lion battling both the monster on the Hemlock and Wilks flashed through my mind. He wasn’t just one of my father’s creations—he was the pinnacle of them, the apex of humanity’s combat prowess. It was undeniable. I could never beat him in a fair fight. He had single-handedly killed millions on Earth during his decades of service, a living weapon of unmatched efficiency. He was old—very old—but his age only seemed to have honed him further, sharpening every skill to a deadly edge.
Knight leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Your father ensured everything would lead back to you. The accelerant and inhibitor—extremes of Phoenix’s design—are waiting. Only you can finish what he started. Decide quickly, Sol. The countdown has already begun.”
My breath came shallow, my mind a whirlwind of fragmented thoughts. The fractured mind split between Jericho and that… monster—was it really him? The father I thought was gone? Or was this just another cruel trick, a shadow of the man who’d once told me I was humanity’s hope?
Fuck, Dad. Now that you’re here—now that I know you’re not gone—I don’t know how I could possibly face you after everything you’ve done. After everything you’ve become. But I miss you so much.
I clenched my fists, forcing the words out before my resolve could break. “Don’t pretend like I have a choice.”
Lion nodded, a faint glimmer of relief breaking through his stoic mask. Knight straightened, her smirk returning. “This is your legacy, Sol. Whether you like it or not.”
Lion gave a brief nod, adding in his calm, measured way, “They fear losing what little power they have—mankind’s last scraps of authority. But that power was never meant to be shared. Jericho is a Voss creation, and only a Voss can unify it. Once your father’s consciousness finishes merging with the ship—when he completes his evolution into Jericho’s central mind—only you will stand beside him. Eternal guardians of humanity’s fate.”
The whispers coiled like smoke in my mind, their tone dripping with honeyed persuasion. Only you can complete me, my princess. End the captains’ tyrannical reign.
The words slithered deeper, planting a dangerous question: What if he’s still in there? What if there’s something left to save? My fists clenched, nails biting into my palms as I shoved the thought away. No. That thing isn’t my dad. He would never have wanted this. The denial burned in my chest, warring with the ache that wouldn’t subside.
The hammer by Lion’s side radiated a quiet menace, as though ready to strike down anyone who dared oppose them. The voices outside grew louder, clashing like thunder in the corridor: Warren’s indignant fury, Vega’s cold, clipped tones, and Eagle’s unwavering declarations that no one would pass. Then, cutting through the chaos, came another voice—louder, raw, and unmistakable.
Reid.
For the first time, a flicker of hope stirred in my chest.
Knight’s almond-shaped eyes flicked to the sealed doors, then back to me, sharp and calculating. “Phoenix wasn’t just a virus—it was the cornerstone of everything. The accelerant and the inhibitor are crucial—extremes of its design. But we can’t properly test them without you. And we won’t risk interference from the captains. They’ve proven themselves short-sighted and hungry for control.”
Her tone hardened as she added, “We’ll keep the peace with them as long as it suits our purpose, but if they threaten to destroy what we’ve built…” She let the words hang in the air, her meaning unmistakable.
Lion’s golden eye fixed on me, his cybernetic features catching the faint glow of the chamber lights. “We’d prefer not to kill them, Highness. We need their expertise to keep Jericho running. But if their ignorance endangers the completion of Chimera—endangers your father’s final return—then yes, we’ll use force. Jericho won’t be lost on our watch.”
I tugged at the straps pinning me to the cryo pod, anger and helplessness swelling in my throat. “So it comes down to this,” I said, my voice trembling with the effort to stay calm. “Help you finish Chimera—restore a father who’s barely human anymore—or watch you tear this ship apart, along with everyone on it?”
Knight’s smile was faint, cruel. “It was always going to come down to this. The captains were placeholders, nothing more. Their authority is a façade. Your father’s legacy is yours, whether you want it or not.”
Lion glanced at the door, where Warren’s shouting reached a fever pitch, then back at me. His tone was edged with finality. “Jericho must stay intact. If the captains leave us alone, we’ll leave them alone. But if they interfere, we won’t hesitate to act. The stakes are too high, Highness.”
Knight stepped closer, her silver eyes piercing mine with an unsettling intensity. “You were created for this, Sol. Phoenix was designed to bind only to you—tailored perfectly to your DNA. Your father ensured you’d be the key to completing Chimera. Everything he built, everything he sacrificed, was leading to this moment.” Her voice dropped, cold and precise. “With your regenerative ability and the accelerant serum, his mind will finally survive the transfer. You are the missing piece.”
She reached out, flicking a stray lock of hair from my forehead with an unsettling familiarity, her lips curling into a sharp smirk. “Decide quickly, Sol. Once we leave this room, the countdown begins. The day will come when he needs you to make the final choice. Until then, keep quiet. We need the peace with the captains intact—for now.”
Her touch sent a shiver through me, and I strained against the restraints, every nerve in my body screaming to resist. The hunger roared to life, no longer a quiet ache but a primal force clawing its way to the surface. As she leaned closer, I could smell her flesh, warm and alive, her heartbeat a deafening rhythm pounding in my ears. My fangs, already sharp, extended further, saber-like and aching with an unbearable tension.
My claws dug into the metal of the cryo pod, carving deep gouges as my hands flexed involuntarily. The restraints groaned under the pressure, buckling slightly as I pulled against them, the strength surging through me terrifying and intoxicating. A low growl escaped my throat, and just as I thought I might lose control entirely, his voice—my father’s voice—cut through the chaos, sharper than any blade.
My student, the voices whispered, low and mocking, yet intimate, as though it was speaking directly into my soul. Your mother, always the ever-loyal whore, serving me even as she knew the monster I was. And Lion… my perfect iron fist. Don’t let his words fool you. He’s loved the taste of violence since he was just a boy.
The words struck like poison, spreading through me, fueling both the hunger and a desperate kind of despair. My trembling turned to outright shaking, the primal urge to rip Knight apart clashing with the loathing that boiled in my blood. My hands flexed again, claws scraping against the metal as the restraints groaned louder, buckling further under the pressure.
“Sol,” the voice purred, softer now, almost soothing. This is what I made you for. You’re so close. Don’t fight it. Let it happen.
“Shut up!” I snarled, my voice breaking, raw and hoarse.
Knight didn’t flinch, didn’t even seem to notice my outburst. Then, without warning, she injected me with something cold and sharp. The icy sensation spread through my veins like liquid steel, freezing the inferno of hunger in its tracks. The transformation reversed almost instantly—fangs receding, claws shrinking, my strength draining away as the inhibitor took hold. My muscles went slack, the unrelenting hunger dulled to a faint whisper, a shadow of its former self.
Knight’s smirk widened as she watched the change. “There,” she said, her voice smooth and triumphant. “Much better.” She leaned in, her silver eyes gleaming with cruel satisfaction. “Remember this moment, Sol. The hunger is part of you now. It will never truly leave. But don’t worry,” her tone dripped with mockery, “I’ll be here to remind you of your place when it rears its head again.”
The whispers faded, but their venom lingered, twisting in my mind like a knife. My student. Your mother. Lion. Each word carried the weight of my father’s shadow, inescapable and all-consuming. My chest heaved, the ache of exhaustion and despair suffocating. And beneath it all, one thought burned, fragile but defiant: Goddamn it, Dad. What have you turned me into?
I gasped, my body sagging against the restraints as they stopped groaning under my pull. My stomach churned, bile rising as the reality of it all slammed into me: I was at the center of a plan decades—maybe centuries—in the making, a pawn in my father’s obsession with transcending humanity. The last of the voices outside faded, replaced by a static-laden silence that pressed in like a suffocating weight.
“What the hell did you do to me?” I whispered, my voice trembling, barely audible.
Knight leaned in, her smirk cutting sharp as glass. “Taming the beast,” she said, her voice dripping with mockery. “You’ll thank me later, my dear daughter.”
As I turned back to my semi-normal self, a chilling certainty settled over me: they’d make me their lab rat no matter what. Unbidden memories of my father surged—his lab’s sterile tang, the sting of needles, and that maddeningly gentle voice calling me “humanity’s hope.”
Goddamn it, Daddy, why did you ever love this whore? Why did you come back? Bitterness tore through my thoughts, clashing with the ache in my chest. He was here, yet twisted into a nightmare haunting my every step. My hands strained weakly against the restraints, the relentless pressure in my chest driving home how far I’d fallen.
I miss you so much.
Confusion and fury wrestled within me. The mind they wanted me to save—torn between Jericho and a monstrosity—was that truly my father, or a cruel reflection of who he’d once been? If it is you, how do I even begin to forgive you?
Knight leaned in, her voice ice-cold. “If you betray us—if you warn the captains—Reid is the first casualty. After that, we won’t stop until Jericho is secured and Chimera is complete.”
“I will fucking gut you if you or him touch him or anyone else on this crew!” My threat lashed out, raw and trembling. Despite my bravado, the truth twisted in my chest like a knife: I couldn’t really fight Lion. And maybe I didn’t want to.
I miss my daddy. The thought surfaced like a knife’s edge—raw and hollow. But he’s a monster now. That’s my dad—a monster. His yellow, predatory eyes... Jericho’s cold, unblinking gaze... Both were him, the father who once held my hand. My heart seized under the weight of it. How do I help him? How do I fight him when he is the ship?
Lion lifted his hammer as if it weighed nothing. He turned, golden eye steady, unyielding. “We’re finished here,” he said, his tone frosty with finality. “There’s nothing more to discuss, Highness.”
The doors hissed open with a sharp pneumatic rush. Warren’s incensed face appeared just beyond, fury etched into every tense line of his posture. Eagle stood like a sentinel in his path, her imposing frame clad in sleek, thin power armor that accentuated her towering height. The polished black metal gleamed under the dim lights, her helmet obscuring any hint of expression behind its darkened visor. The glow of red optics flickered faintly as she tilted her head slightly, blocking Warren’s approach without a word.
Lion didn’t spare Warren more than a glance, stepping calmly aside to reveal me, still strapped to the cryo pod and trembling. His golden eye glowed faintly as he gestured toward me, addressing Warren in a tone as measured as it was infuriating.
“Relax, Captain,” Lion said with unnerving calm. “The inhibitor has been instilled. The side effects of Phoenix will slow now, allowing her condition to stabilize. Knight and her will continue refining the virus to ensure it becomes viable—for you and the other captains.”
Warren’s face twisted in fury, his glare cutting to Lion. “Viable?” he snapped, his voice a thunderous bark. “You’re treating her like a damn experiment! She’s not your lab rat!”
Lion didn’t flinch. “She is key to everything,” he said simply, his words clinical and dismissive.
Warren’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. He turned his glare on Eagle, but her massive frame remained unmoving, a wall of power and authority in his path. He shoved past her without hesitation, his shoulder colliding with her armor as he stormed into the room.
Knight’s voice followed him, dripping with venom. “This is your legacy, my daughter,” she sneered, directing her words at me with cruel satisfaction. “Whether you like it or not. Deny it, and everything you care about—your precious Reid, this ship, your pitiful ideals—will burn. And I’ll make sure you watch.”
Lion and Knight turned toward the exit, their movements deliberate. Eagle followed without hesitation, her massive frame silent yet oppressive as she stepped in line behind them. Her helmeted head turned briefly toward Warren before she disappeared into the corridor.
Warren skidded to a halt beside the cryo pod, his hands gripping my shoulders as his voice roared with concern. “Sol! What the hell did they do to you?” His words were sharp, but his grip was steady, grounding me even as my mind swirled in chaos.
I tried to respond, but my throat burned, and the weight of what had just transpired left me breathless. My body felt distant, heavy, as if I were still trapped beneath the restraints even as Warren worked to free me. The new serum coursed through my veins, dulling the voices that had clawed at my mind and quelling the insatiable hunger that had always lingered just beneath the surface. For the first time, the relentless gnawing quieted, leaving me weak and unsteady, a hollow echo where the chaos had been.
Reid burst into the room moments later, his usual brashness replaced by a wide-eyed panic. His gaze swept over the bloodied robe, the restraints, and the claw marks etched into the metal of the pod. “Sol!” he shouted, his voice cracking as he rushed forward. “What the hell is this? What did they do to you?”
I tried to speak, but my voice caught in my throat. I couldn’t look at Reid—couldn’t answer as his panicked voice rose. The weight of what had just transpired crushed me, leaving me hollow and trembling.
Movement drew my gaze past him, toward the edge of the room. One of Jericho’s drones floated silently, its single eye glinting faintly in the dim light. Its reflective surface caught a fragmented image of me, warped and disjointed. My mismatched eyes stared back—one vivid red, the other piercing blue. For a moment, the colors swirled together like oil on water, the sight sending a shiver through me. The hunger I thought the serum had quelled stirred faintly, clawing at the edges of my control.
Then I saw it—just beyond my reflection. In the shadows near the vent, a pair of yellow eyes gleamed, bright and unblinking. My heart lurched as the Yellow-Eyed Monster stared, its predatory gaze framed by the slats like a grotesque portrait. I couldn’t tell if it was real or another cruel trick of my fractured mind. The whispers returned, insidious and soft.
You’re so close, my little phoenix. Closer than ever.
My breath hitched as the drone drifted closer, its glossy surface reflecting more than just my twisted image. For a fleeting moment, I saw his eyes staring back—my father’s. Red and blue, familiar yet alien, like the ghost of someone I once knew but no longer recognized. My chest tightened, the echoes of Knight’s and my father’s voices weaving together, cruel and suffocating.
This is your legacy, my daughter. Deny it, and everything you care about—your precious Reid, this ship, your pitiful ideals—will burn. And I’ll make sure you watch.
“Sol!” Reid’s voice shattered the haze. His trembling hands hovered over me, his panic raw and palpable. “Look at me! What’s wrong?”
I tore my gaze from the drone, from the vent, from the monster that haunted me. “Nothing,” I rasped, though the word felt hollow. Warren’s voice cut through the chaos. “What did they tell you?” he demanded, his concern sharp and pressing.
The drone’s eye lingered on me before drifting away—Jericho’s silent warning that I couldn’t speak. The monster’s gaze burned from the shadows, unrelenting. My father’s chains held me, the simmering hunger beneath my skin a constant reminder.
“I don’t have a choice,” I whispered, the words trembling as I met Reid’s worried eyes. “My legacy is already written… inked in blood.”
And all I can do now is survive long enough to rewrite it.