Interstellar: Return of the Villain
Chapter 239: Back to Reality

Chapter 239: Back to Reality

When the court announced its verdict on Lyra’s future, she barely reacted, her brow only slightly furrowed.

The fact they didn’t strip her of her military rank was likely thanks to Valeria’s influence. A suspension still left her with a bit of wiggle room.

As for the ruling against having kids, it didn’t bother her much. Even without a mandatory requirement, she had no plans for motherhood. To her, being born should be a celebration, but her life was one filled with regret.

After the trial wrapped up, Kritt and a handful of other important prisoners were escorted to the execution grounds to face their fate.

Lyra stole a quick glance in their direction as she exited the military court.

Just outside, a woman barreled toward her. Lyra instinctively sidestepped, but the woman’s voice cut through the air like a knife: "It’s all your fault, monster! You’ll get them all killed!"

Genevieve was a shadow of her former self, no longer the poised lady she used to be. With a black feathered hat and a veil flailing, she lunged at Lyra again, causing her hat to topple and leaving her hair in disarray.

When Lyra twisted Genevieve’s arm behind her back, she cried out, "You ruthless jinx! After you wrecked the Shedd family, you teamed up with that bastard to ruin the Calvins!"

Without her noble standing, Genevieve was looking at a trial in the Alliance court, where a lengthy prison sentence awaited her. In an instant, she’d plunged from high society into madness.

Her voice cracked as she sobbed, "Give my Isadora back, you witch! And my Kritt! You and that old fool should be the ones punished, not my daughter and husband!"

This poor woman had been duped by Benedict years ago, losing ten eggs under the pretense of "in vitro fertilization."

Six of those children had been destroyed in the process, leaving only Isadora alive.

When Kritt finally tell her the truth, her world crumbled. She spiraled into despair, powerless to change her daughter’s fate. The weight of judgment pressed down on her like a heavy blanket.

Eventually, the police took Genevieve away to the Alliance court. Spectators whispered and pointed, especially when they caught sight of Lyra’s unflinching demeanor.

A wave of tension rippled through the crowd as Lyra met their stares with a frigid gaze.

Once Lyra departed with Lev, a collective sigh of relief washed over them.

"That woman is cold-hearted!" one onlooker murmured.

"She turned in Ansel and even captured Benedict without flinching!" another chimed in.

"Her uncle is headed for execution, yet she looks completely unfazed."

It was chilling.

Feelings? As Lev drove, Lyra pressed a hand to her chest. Her heart thumped steadily, as if determined to keep going. She was immune to the chaos around her, but simply existing drained too much energy from her.

"Boss, we’re at the military zone," Lev announced.

Lyra glanced at the familiar gates—the place where she had spent most of the last six months.

As she stepped out of the car, she spotted Ryan rolling toward her in a sleek wheelchair, holding a box.

Today, he wasn’t hiding behind sunglasses, and the red-rimmed eyes told a different story. His expression shifted to one of anguish when he saw her.

"I applied for a work-related injury discharge, and it got approved," he said, anticipating her question.

But all Lyra offered was a nod. "That’s good." After a moment, she added, "Take care of yourself, sir."

At her words, the tension on Ryan’s face broke, and he buried his face in his hands, tears streaming down.

"The training ground felt way too empty today," he murmured between sobs.

Lyra watched Ryan roll away, and then she stepped into the familiar military zone.

A wave of memories crashed over her. She recalled the little moments shared with her teammates—the morning dew sparkling on the training ground when she had tied up Marty and the others.

Those memories glimmered brightly in her mind, but they were all she had left.

Inside, Hazel was hustling around with the administrative team, frantically compiling the causes of death and filing compensation claims based on years of service.

When she spotted Lyra, the redness around her eyes deepened, a clear sign of her exhaustion.

"I’m so glad you’re back," Hazel said, hurriedly signing Lyra’s resignation papers. "I’ve nearly lost my mind with all these family members hounding me."

"Are they after compensation?" Lyra asked.

"Yeah," Hazel sighed, surprisingly venting her frustrations. "Most people who join the Special Forces seem to forget about family ties. Some of these ’families’ are not even on the same family tree; it’s incredibly frustrating to deal with."

Fortunately, access to the military zone was limited; otherwise, Hazel would have been overwhelmed by the sheer number of inquiries.

Lyra took the papers, glanced them over, and saluted her.

Hazel nodded, a faint smile on her lips. "Let’s grab coffee sometime."

"Anytime," Lyra replied.

As she walked away, Hazel watched her slender figure retreat, forcing a smile that felt more like a cry.

"Why did you talk to her so much?" a young assistant asked, puzzled.

Hazel sighed deeply. "I’ve been here for almost a whole life, and I barely have any old friends left to share coffee with now."

Almost all of them had perished, and the few survivors had climbed the ranks, now far away from her level.

When new recruits came in, Hazel would have to don the role of the cold, distant bureaucrat once more.

After packing her things, Lyra climbed back into her Lev’s. "To the workplace," she ordered.

Pushing aside thoughts of the Special Forces, Lyra began to reflect on everything that had happened since graduation.

Unlike her cautious dealings with the Shedd family, the chaos surrounding the Calvin family’s genetic experiments had erupted unexpectedly, leaving her no time to step back.

From her conversations with Westros and Benedict, it became clear they wanted to pull her into the Empire’s sphere, while someone on the Alliance side was trying to cut her ties to the Calvins.

"Here we are," her driver said softly.

As she stepped out, Crag commented jokingly, "You’re really impressive, boss. Even after everything, you still manage to show up at the office."

To Lyra, all that had happened felt like old news. Worrying about it now seemed pointless until she found a solution. The best choice was to ensure current troubles didn’t interfere with other matters.

She needed to keep a close watch on her business to prevent partners from exploiting her suspension... especially the folks from Voidstar No.2.

"I heard you got suspended? Why not come back to Voidstar No.2 and hang with us?" Snakehead, cigar clamped between his teeth, seemed almost gleeful.

Lyra leaned back in her chair, arms crossed and head supported by her hand. She showed no sign of defeat. Instead, a glimmer of disdain sparked in her eyes.

"You want me back at Voidstar? Fine by me."

At the same time, she called Caesara. The tough woman was ready to give Snakehead a piece of her mind. "You fat fool, why bring that up now? She’s level eight! You want her back on your turf?"

As Snakehead’s holographic image flickered, it reflected his fading confidence. In his moment of triumph, he had almost overlooked a crucial detail.

The memory of Blackheart—who had fled to Voidstar No. 1 only to be taken down by Lyra—sent a shiver down his spine.

Bringing Lyra back to Voidstar No. 2 wasn’t just about him; it was about her dragging him along for the ride.

"Hey, I was just joking, really! Don’t take it seriously, my lady," he stammered, his bravado slipping.

"Don’t worry," Lyra replied, a teasing smile creeping onto her face.

Just as Snakehead began to relax, she added, "Even if I don’t go back, you two are already stuck on my boat."

Both Caesara and Snakehead halted, realizing with a sinking feeling that yes, they were indeed following her lead.