Interstellar: Return of the Villain
Chapter 251: Work Or Die

Chapter 251: Work Or Die

Cohen, knowing better than to question Lyra’s methods, shrugged and asked, "Alright, so what’s your plan for handling five hundred of them?"

Lyra turned, her gaze steely as she scanned the crowd. Her eyes locked onto Shane, and he felt an unexpected chill slice through him.

Around him, the others sensed it too. A few even began edging back toward the ship, their instincts screaming at them to escape.

But before they could move, an overwhelming surge of psychokinetic energy washed over them. In that instant, each felt the eerie realization—they had been marked.

The power wasn’t just strong; it was invasive, as if Lyra had left an invisible tag on every single one of them.

Even Cohen stood, momentarily stunned.

’Five hundred people at once?’ he marveled. ’Just how powerful is she?’

Then again, he reminded himself, Lyra had defeated Caius, the infamous Supreme. Compared to that, marking a bunch of recruits must’ve been child’s play.

The newcomers, however, were shell-shocked. Panic spread as some of them began shouting.

"Why did you do that? How are we just being branded like criminals?"

"We came here to work, not to get tagged like some herd!"

"Where’s our so-called ’boss’?"

Debbie fought back a smirk, maintaining her calm look as she stepped up to Lyra. "Boss, I’ve brought them all as you requested—every last one."

Lyra gave her a nod of acknowledgment. "Well done."

The crowd fell into stunned silence, their disbelief almost palpable. ’Wait—’ they thought, ’she’s the boss?’

They stared, wide-eyed, not quite believing it. Young and intimidatingly powerful, Lyra was nothing like they’d been told to expect.

As realization dawned, a sense of dread took over. ’We’re in way over our heads.’

"This wasn’t part of the deal!"

"Yeah! The red head told us a completely different story!"

Lyra’s expression was mildly amused. "Oh? And what did she tell you?"

The group exploded in a mess of explanations:

"She said if we got here and defeated you, we’d be free to go!"

"Right! She told us you were some thirty-something medic with a gentle healing ability!"

None of them had expected their "boss" would be someone who could psychically subdue hundreds in an instant.

Cohen, who’d been silently listening, almost laughed. Their simple mind was endearing, in a way. "And who exactly is this red head?" he asked, his voice half-curious, half-amused.

"A former acquaintance," Lyra answered smoothly. "She tried to recruit this bunch as underlings, but they turned her down. So she sent them here for some... ’training.’"

Cohen raised a brow. "Sounds like someone from Voidstar No. 2," he muttered, referencing the notorious rogue faction.

He had a feeling that, after a while under Lyra’s command, this bunch might be longing for working for the red head. ’Once Lyra’s through with them, they’ll probably be begging for an easier life.’

"As long as they don’t cause trouble, I couldn’t care less what happens to them," he said with a dismissive wave. "I’ve got other business."

Lyra nodded, dismissing him, her gaze shifting back to her new recruits.

Shane, meanwhile, stood fuming. Getting lured into a trap was bad enough, but realizing he’d be under someone like Lyra—someone who wielded power with such cold control—was worse. Any fantasies he’d had of escaping into the wilds of Wyrmtrace were rapidly evaporating.

"Debbie," Lyra called out, "do you have the access passes?"

"Right here!" Debbie said cheerfully, pulling a large box from her Space Button. "Every last one of them accounted for!"

Lyra’s approving nod brought a sparkle of pride to Debbie’s face. ’Yes! She noticed my work. Promotion, here I come!’

she thought, practically glowing as she started handing out the access passes.

At the front of the line, Shane eyed her, jaw clenched.

As Debbie handed him his pass, he leaned in, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Well played, Debbie. Very well played."

Debbie chuckled, giving Shane a hearty slap on the back.

"Ha! You flatter yourself, kid. You’re nothing special, so don’t go acting like you are." She smirked.

Compared to the high-powered people who orbited Lyra, Shane was just another face in the crowd.

With a cheerful wave, Debbie led the group off the ship and into the base.

As they walked, every staff member they passed nodded respectfully at Debbie, greeting her with a warm, "Hey, Debbie!" or a quick salute.

Shane watched, narrowing his eyes. He realized that maybe she wasn’t the naive, bumbling assistant he’d pegged her for—more like a sharp fox in a well-practiced disguise.

Once they were packed into a transport truck, Shane’s fellow pirates started crowding around him, their voices barely above whispers.

"So...what now, Shane?"

"Yeah, what’s the game plan? That psycho Liliana was bad enough, but this Lyra’s looking like a whole new nightmare."

Shane scowled, still seething. "We wait. Let’s see if any of the other groups make a move first," he muttered.

The pirates weren’t alone on this ride—several other "recruits" had been snatched up for the program, all rebels who’d refused to work for Liliana and been dumped on Wyrmtrace as punishment.

A few miles down the road, Shane’s hunch proved right.

A couple of bolder men at the back started working together, tearing through the truck walls and launching themselves out, aiming to hijack the driver’s cabin.

They barely touched the ground when they dropped to the dirt, convulsing and screaming as their bodies seized up.

Within moments, they went disturbingly still.

The driver calmly climbed out, high-heat torch in hand, and incinerated the bodies where they lay. Then he got back in, cranked up the engine, and continued as if nothing had happened.

A thick, icy silence filled the truck. Whatever hope had existed among them evaporated in that instant.

When they finally reached their destination, the sight that greeted them was overwhelming.

A vast base spread out before them, gleaming with advanced tech and ringed by high surveillance towers.

Rows of transport ships and military-grade vehicles lined up with military precision under an iron-gray sky.

"This... this is Lyra’s base?"

"Didn’t she say she was just a medical supplies dealer?"

"Medical dealer? Yeah, right. Only someone with power and serious backing gets in on a Wyrmtrace contract, especially one run by the admiral’s family."

Their awe irritated Shane, making his frustration boil over. ’So much for keeping a low profile.’

It happened to be mealtime, and Debbie marched them into the cafeteria with a grin. "First day calls for a good meal! Eat up!"

Despite the mob of new arrivals, the cafeteria ran like clockwork, with the mouthwatering smell of hot food filling the air. More than a few stomachs growled as the aroma hit.

Shane glared, trying to keep his crew in line. "Show some restraint," he muttered, but his own stomach growled loudly, practically echoing.

The guy beside him snorted, whispering, "Uh... that was you..."

Cheeks red, Shane grabbed his tray, only to catch Debbie walking by. She grinning as she stifled a laugh.

Feeling stung, Shane and the others ate quickly, aware of the pointed stares from Lyra’s staff—people who clearly had little respect for the newcomers.

When the meal was over, Debbie guided them deep into the base, leading them to a wide training ground.

At the far end, Lyra was already mid-session, unleashing a swarm of glowing green particles across a hundred yards.

Each particle hit its target with flawless precision, taking down small, buzzing fly-drones with terrifying speed and control.

The sheer power on display was almost blinding. It hit Shane in an instant: ’She’s a level eight.’

A cold sweat broke out as Shane remembered where he’d heard her name—Lyra Shedd, "the strongest healer," whose reputation had always been understated for reasons that now made perfect sense. Liliana had conveniently left out a lot about her.

Lyra finished, handing Debbie a towel as she wiped the sweat from her brow. Her gaze settled on the group, expression hard as stone.

"You’re here for one reason," Lyra said, voice sharp and unfeeling. "You’ll work for me, unpaid. Or you’ll die here on Wyrmtrace. Choose."

The bluntness of her words hit them like a punch to the gut. They looked around, searching each other’s eyes for some escape, but there was none.

The choice was brutally simple and terrifyingly clear.

Shane clenched his jaw. "How does the Alliance let you kill people so casually? We’re registered citizens now—we’ve got official IDs."

Lyra’s gaze was as unfeeling as steel. "If I can get you an official ID, I can just as easily file a ’natural causes’ death certificate," she replied, barely missing a beat. She gestured to the ground. "Those willing to work, step to the left. If you’re not, stay where you are."

Stay where you were, and you’d be dead.

Realizing there was no room for resistance, Shane was the first to step left.