Interstellar: Return of the Villain
Chapter 217: Wolf’s Death

Chapter 217: Wolf’s Death

Wolf, injured but still standing, glanced over at Marty with a grim expression.

"We all need help," he muttered, wiping blood from his brow. "Get a signal out for reinforcements, now."

Ryan’s face fell. "We can’t... the signal’s jammed. I didn’t even realize until now. Ivo had us chasing him so hard, we didn’t see the trap."

The realization hung heavy in the air—this whole situation was an ambush. Victory wasn’t on anyone’s mind anymore. Survival was.

Amid the despair, Lyra stepped forward, gripping her hoverboard. "I’ll go back for help," she said firmly.

For a moment, a flicker of hope passed through the group at the sight of the hoverboard. But Wolf’s expression darkened.

He stepped closer to Lyra, towering over her. "You’re a healer, right?" he asked, his voice low, eyes sharp.

"Yes," Lyra responded steadily.

Wolf’s lips curled into a cruel smile. "Then I order you to stay and treat the injured. Give me the hoverboard."

His outstretched hand was more of a demand than a request, the intent clear. He was abandoning them.

Everyone’s eyes widened as they realized what Wolf was planning. His years of surviving the Special Forces weren’t built on loyalty or leadership—they were built on saving his own skin.

"Wolf, you coward!" one of the Legion of Nebulae officers shouted, stepping forward in protest. "If anyone’s going for help, it should be us. You need to fight with your men!"

The officer barely finished his sentence before Wolf shoved him off the platform without a second thought. His scream echoed for only a second before the ant-people jumped on him, tearing him apart in a grotesque display of violence.

The squad watched in horror as the officer’s blood splattered across the ground below.

Wolf turned back to Lyra, his gaze hard and cold. "Don’t forget who’s in charge here," he hissed.

With no other choice, Lyra handed over the hoverboard.

Wolf barely acknowledged her as he mounted it, his movements swift and selfish.

The engine whirred to life, and in moments, he was airborne, flying off into the night, leaving his comrades behind to face the carnage alone.

Ryan shook his head in defeat. "Don’t worry," he tried to comfort Lyra, though his voice wavered. "We’ll hold out a little longer."

But Lyra’s face was set, her eyes cold. "I have no intention of just sitting here."

Before Ryan could respond, a sputtering sound cut through the air.

The hoverboard, Wolf’s supposed ticket to safety, malfunctioned.

Its engines choked, trailing smoke before shutting down completely. Within seconds, the board plummeted, sending Wolf crashing into the swarm of ant-people below.

A collective shock spread through the group. The tables had turned. Now, Wolf was the one surrounded, helpless as the relentless swarm closed in.

"Help! Pull me up!" Wolf screamed in panic, flames shooting from his hands as he incinerated the closest creatures.

His level-eight superpower flared wildly, reducing dozens of the ant-people to ash.

But it wasn’t enough. For every one he burned, two more appeared, their numbers endless, their persistence unmatched.

Ryan instinctively moved to help, but Lyra stopped him with a calm, firm hand. "Wolf is already dead, SIR," she said in a quiet but resolute tone, deliberately stripping Wolf of his title and passing it to Ryan without hesitation.

Ryan froze. She was right. Even with his formidable strength, Wolf’s fate was sealed. The swarm would consume him before they could do anything.

Down below, Wolf’s fury burned bright as he unleashed wave after wave of flames.

The night sky glowed with the intensity of his power, but no matter how hard he fought, the ants swarmed over him.

At that moment, a massive ant queen emerged from the shadows, her grotesque body writhing as she advanced.

The most unsettling feature was her head—a disturbingly human face, unmistakably that of a woman, twisted into the nightmarish form of an insect.

The fusion of human and insect was both horrifying and surreal, and her presence sent a chilling wave of dread through the remaining soldiers.

Unlike the other creatures, the queen seemed utterly unfazed by Wolf’s fiery onslaught.

With a slow, deliberate movement, the queen spewed thick, viscous liquid, which shot through the air and latched onto Wolf, trapping him in place.

His flames sputtered as the sticky substance held him fast, immobilizing him.

The ant-people swarmed him immediately. Their relentless mandibles tore at his armor, but Wolf fought back with everything he had.

Flames still roared around him as he snarled up at the group standing helpless on the platform above.

"Damn it! I command you to pull me up!" he bellowed, his voice hoarse with desperation.

With a final, desperate surge, Wolf unleashed a massive wave of fire. That pushed himself upward, flames propelling him through sheer force of will.

For a brief moment, it seemed like he might actually escape. His hand stretched out toward the platform, fingers reaching for salvation.

But then, a glowing green tendril shot through the air, a whip-like lash of energy aimed directly at him.

Wolf lunged to grab it—his last chance.

But he grasped nothing but air.

His eyes widened in horror as the reality of the situation crashed down on him. There would be no rescue. There would be no last-minute save.

Below him, the ant queen opened her massive, plant-like jaws and snapped them shut with terrifying finality.

Her crushing mandibles tore into Wolf’s body, and the sickening sound of bones snapping and flesh being devoured echoed across the battlefield.

His flames were extinguished as he disappeared within her maw, the brutal crunch of his body being consumed sending a shockwave of silence over the platform.

The soldiers stood frozen, paralyzed by what they had just witnessed.

The color drained from their faces as they stared at the grotesque scene, unable to look away from the horrifying end of their squad leader.

Slowly, their gazes shifted to Lyra, standing motionless, her expression unreadable.

"It’s my fault," Lyra said, her voice calm and indifferent, almost as if she were commenting on something trivial. "I couldn’t pull Wolf to safety."

There was something unnerving about her tone, so detached, so devoid of any real emotion. Yet, no one dared blame her. In fact, they began to subtly edge away, as if recognizing the cold, dangerous force that lay behind her dispassionate words.

Marty, still trembling from the terror of what he had just seen, turned to Lyra, desperation in his voice. "Please, Lyra... Bruce and the others... they need healing. They’re dying."

For a moment, Lyra remained silent, her eyes focused on the chaotic swarm of ant-people below.

Then, in a slow, deliberate motion, she unsheathed two gleaming swords.

Marty’s breath caught in his throat, his heart pounding with fear as an icy chill ran down his spine.

For a terrifying second, he thought she might turn on them.

But Lyra’s voice broke the tension, her words dripping with mockery. "How foolish," she said, her lips curling into a wicked smile. "You expect me to waste my power healing people in THIS situation?"

Marty’s heart sank, dread curling in his gut as her gaze swept over the battlefield with a dark glint in her eyes. She had no intention of tending to the wounded. Her eyes gleamed with a hunger for something else entirely.

"The only way to survive now," Lyra continued, her voice sharp and cutting, "is to kill all the enemies."

Without another word, she leapt off the platform, her twin swords flashing as she plunged headfirst into the teeming horde of ant-creatures below.