Interstellar: Return of the Villain
Chapter 224: Ansel’s End (1)

Chapter 224: Ansel’s End (1)

As dawn crept in, an escort Lev pulled out from the tribunal, carrying now the most notorious high-security prisoner: Ansel Shedd.

He was restrained head-to-toe—thick metal cuffs binding his wrists, blocking his powers, and a collar snug around his neck, ready to detonate if he tried any tricks.

Flanking him were Leandro and a crack squad of elite enforcers, all set for the journey to the prison.

Five Vice Admirals flew on hoverboards beside the Lev, their eyes sharp and unblinking, constantly scanning for even the slightest hint of danger.

It was that eerie hour just before dawn, the city streets barely stirring with an occasional lone vehicle passing by.

As the team exited Central City’s protective Aegis Shield, the air thickened with tension.

Every member tuned their powers to the max, alert and on edge. Above them, dark clouds rolled in, heavy and foreboding, as if nature itself was brewing something fierce.

Not a single ray of sunlight cut through; only a dense blanket of gloom cloaked the escort team as they pressed on.

Then, like a needle scratching vinyl, a faint crackling noise shattered the silence.

"Stop the escort team," Leandro ordered immediately, his instincts flaring.

At the rear, Ansel, who’d been sitting with his eyes closed, opened them, instantly aware of the shift. His guard gripped his weapon tighter, his powers brimming at the ready.

Thunder echoed as lightning twisted through the clouds, casting eerie flashes across the landscape.

Leandro’s instincts were dead-on—someone was out there, waiting for them.

With a wave of his hand, Leandro signaled to his team. "We’re under attack! Everyone, stay sharp!" he barked.

Suddenly, two blinding bolts of lightning struck, aimed at the escort team, but Leandro deflected them, sending the charges arcing off into the distance.

Moments later, shadows broke away, revealing a strike team led by the now infamous Shedd family, the two seniors stepping forward.

The Shedd family had hidden away their young ones, sending in only the seasoned seniors to pull off a last-ditch rescue of Ansel before they could vanish without a trace.

They’d brought five of their best level-eight fighters. They were the mightiest left of the once-powerful family, now on the brink of ruin.

All their hopes clung to one goal: get Ansel out of captivity and back into the fray to revive their clan from the ashes.

The ambush exploded into a ferocious clash, the air thick with the crackle of powers colliding.

Inside the Lev, the elite guard stationed with Ansel hesitated, torn by duty. Just then, a gun appeared, pointed straight at him—from the driver’s seat.

"Traitor!" the Vice Admiral hissed, his realization too late. "What the hell are you doing?"

The young driver, face tense and torn with guilt, met his gaze. "Vice Admiral Shedd saved my life," he whispered, quietly undoing Ansel’s cuffs.

Freed at last, Ansel stretched his wrists, a sly smirk spreading across his face. With a disturbing calm, he plucked the restraint collar and snapped it onto the stunned Vice Admiral’s neck.

"Stay put, COMRADE," he said icily, and exited the vehicle.

Outside, Leandro and his team were locked in a vicious struggle against the Shedd fighters, when a sudden, oppressive force gripped the space around them, freezing them in place.

In that heartbeat of stillness, a vicious bolt of energy struck, ripping through their defenses.

Leandro staggered, his body scorched and shaking, blood streaking fresh from his wounds.

"Ansel! How are you using Space Twister powers?!" Leandro gasped, staring at the man he’d thought he’d known.

They’d fought side by side for decades; everyone believed Ansel’s power was lightning, nothing more. But somehow, he’d unlocked the ability to bend space itself.

Ansel loomed over him. His expression was ice-cold as he watched Leandro’s pain with unsettling satisfaction.

With a twist of his fingers, he slammed him down again, pinning him against the ground with invisible force.

"Leandro," Ansel said, voice laced with a chilling finality, "you destroyed too many of my plans on Demetra. I might have forgiven anyone else, but you? Never."

He raised two fingers, sending another bolt of lightning crashing down onto Leandro, who seized in agony, one final shudder convulsing his body.

The remaining Vice Admirals, still paralyzed by Ansel’s power, watched in horror as he plunged a blade of twisted space through their comrade, sealing his fate.

Their faces burned with fury, each barely restraining the rage swelling inside as they struggled against their invisible shackles.

"Ansel!" Cilia, the only woman among them, shouted, her voice raw with rage. "You coward! After everything Admiral Whyte did to get you a chance, you side with the Empire’s spies? You’re a disgrace to the Alliance!"

"Disgrace?"

Ansel’s calm facade crumbled, morphing into a savage snarl. The mask he’d worn for so long fell away.

His eyes blazed with unrestrained ambition as he barked, "And what’s wrong with chasing power? When I’m strong enough, I can bring my family back to its prime, make them unstoppable! Maybe even do more for the Alliance than any of you could imagine."

He almost laughed. ’Using convicts from death row as test subjects? Who cares?’ He never thought anyone would find out.

A dark glint sharpened his gaze as he drove his boot down onto Leandro’s chest.

CRACK.

The sickening sound of bones shattering echoed through the air.

Leandro’s chest caved in, ribs breaking under the pressure as blood pooled rapidly, staining his hair and the earth beneath him. His breath slowed, fading with every tortured second.

"Leandro!" Cilia’s desperate scream tore through the silence. She strained against the invisible bonds holding her in place, nails clawing at the earth, breaking and bleeding as tears slipped down her cheeks.

Ansel sneered, casting a disdainful glance over the defeated team. Then, he snapped his fingers, shattering their comm devices and opticomputers.

With a simple gesture, he and his followers disappeared into the shadows.

As the spatial lock finally lifted, Cilia staggered over to Leandro, her hands hovering above his broken body, paralyzed with fear and grief.

Desperately, she searched through the debris of their ruined comms, but everything was irreparably damaged.

The Aerokinetic fighter, bloodied and stumbling, forced himself to his feet. "I’m... the fastest," he panted, barely holding himself together. "I’ll go for help."

"Please, hurry!" Cilia’s voice shook, barely able to hold back the tears.

Just then, a new presence entered the scene—a pair of black boots landed softly in front of Leandro.

Startled, the remaining Admirals instinctively braced, fearing an enemy. But instead, Lyra stood before them, her expression calm and cool as she looked down at Leandro’s body.

"Well, isn’t this... a mess." Her voice was steady, unreadable, as she knelt beside Leandro, her movements precise and calm.

Lyra removed a fractured piece of bone pressing dangerously close to Leandro’s heart and then, with practiced ease, she channeled a warm, verdant healing energy through him.

The glow faded, and although Leandro’s injuries were still severe, his life had been stabilized. Relief washed over Cilia as she collapsed beside him, utterly spent.