Interstellar: Return of the Villain
Chapter 272: Killing The Prey

Chapter 272: Killing The Prey

The road between the space port and the military base had become Wyrmtrace’s most bustling artery in recent days.

Yet, even in this hub of activity, no one expected a daylight robbery—much less one targeting LE Energy, the city’s most untouchable powerhouse.

The onlookers, caught between shock and morbid fascination, stood rooted to the spot, watching as the chaos unfolded.

Half-built structures flanked both sides of the street, skeletal frameworks of steel and concrete looming like unfinished monuments.

Towering machinery stood idle, their shadows stretching over the debris-strewn scene.

Two transport vehicles had been struck—one jammed into a building wall, its frame twisted and embedded like a grotesque art piece, while the other lay overturned in the middle of the road, its scattered cargo ignored like trash in the pandemonium.

Abandoned vehicles littered the area, haphazardly blocking lanes as if their drivers had fled in panic.

Under the pale glow of a single streetlight, the battered crew of the Stellar Caravan clustered together.

"Caesara... Ma’am! Hang in there—SHE is almost here!" one crew member pleaded, his voice cracking under the weight of fear.

Caesara lay sprawled, her body a horrifying canvas of carnage. Her chest was ripped open, exposing shattered ribs that jutted like daggers into her punctured lungs and heart.

Blood poured from her mangled form despite the frantic efforts of a medic, who pressed useless gauze to the wound.

Caesara’s breaths were shallow, wet, and desperate.

Three others nearby weren’t in much better shape. Their injuries, though slightly less gruesome, were equally beyond the capabilities of standard med-tech.

Caesara’s lips trembled as she fought to speak, each word a struggle. "Tell... HER... avenge me..."

Shane dropped to his knees beside her, gripping her bloodied shoulders. "You wanna talk about revenge? Do it yourself! Stay alive, damn it!" His voice cracked, and his knuckles whitened as he shook her, refusing to let her slip away.

But Caesara’s vision was dimming. Her thoughts spiraled into darkness. ’This can’t be it. I’m not ready to die... not like this.’

Suddenly, a dazzling green light tore through the gloom. From afar, it seemed like a single beam, but as it descended, it fanned out into a radiant cascade, bathing the entire area in its shimmering glow.

Shane moved instinctively, pulling shards of bone from Caesara’s chest as her body began to heal right before his eyes. Muscle and skin knitted themselves back together with stunning speed. He let out a shaky breath and collapsed onto the pavement, tears streaming down his face. "Hail to the stars..."

The other wounded crew members were experiencing the same miraculous recovery.

As they staggered to their feet, awe-struck, their attention snapped toward the overturned transport.

There stood Lyra, surveying the wreckage like a vengeful goddess. Her face was unreadable, her steely gaze cutting through the chaos.

"Ma’am!" The crew scrambled to stand at attention.

Lyra’s voice was cool, her words precise. "The attackers: two males. One controls starlight, one with superpower displacement abilities, correct? The latter also manipulated spatial gates?"

Caesara, still shaky but alive, ground her teeth as anger fueled her words. "That’s right. The bastard with the displacement ability almost finished us, but the other one turned on him. They escaped in a stolen vehicle."

Lyra’s eyes narrowed, her expression hardening further. "Understood."

With a faint hum, her armor activated, its gleaming plates locking into place. She leapt down from the transport and strode toward the trail left by the attackers.

The frigid energy that surrounded her made even Shane and Caesara shiver despite their miraculous recovery.

The signal led Lyra to the outskirts of New Central City, where the attackers’ stolen transport had been abandoned.

Its smoking husk was a sad, charred remnant of its former self.

Most of its cargo—food and basic supplies—had been taken. What was left had been torched beyond use.

Lyra frowned, her sharp mind unraveling the implications. ’Why go to such lengths just for basic provisions?’

*****

Far from the city, in the mouth of a mountain cave, a shimmering spatial gate flickered into existence.

Two guys stumbled out—Skylight, supporting Ian as they staggered forward.

Skylight eased Ian onto a rock near the cave’s entrance, his movements both hurried and gentle. Without a word, he began gathering firewood.

"Can you hold on?" Skylight finally asked, his voice low but urgent.

The pair were a far cry from their earlier strength. Clad in plain, ragged clothing, their beards unkempt and their faces hollow with exhaustion, they looked like fugitives on their last legs.

"Not dying yet," Ian rasped, though his voice betrayed the effort it took to speak. His body trembled as he drew shallow breaths. "But... I still can’t extend the spatial gate to the Empire. Something’s wrong. Even with the damage from Lyra, the black hole’s power should’ve recovered by now. But it hasn’t. It’s like... it’s just gone."

His youthful face twisted in frustration and guilt. "I’m sorry, Skylight. I dragged you into this mess."

Skylight crouched by the firewood, his hand emitting a focused beam of sunlight to ignite it.

As the flames crackled to life, he straightened and rested a comforting hand on Ian’s head. "Don’t apologize. If anyone’s to blame, it’s me. If I’d had the guts back then, you wouldn’t be in this position now."

Since the fateful incident, Ian and Skylight hadn’t shared a moment this close in years.

Breaking the silence, Ian leaned over and nudged Skylight with his head, his expression softening into a playful grin. "C’mon, Skylight. Even if you’d gone back then, there’s no guarantee you’d have survived, either."

The words hung in the air, drawing a heavy pause between them. Neither spoke, lost in the swirling memories of their past—memories steeped in regret and impossible choices.

Eventually, Ian’s brow furrowed, his playful demeanor vanishing. He turned sharply toward Skylight, his voice hard. "You shouldn’t have stopped me from finishing them off. I can’t manage long-range teleportation right now—what happens if someone tracks us down?"

Skylight exhaled, a tired weight in his voice. "There were hundreds of people there, Ian. Were you seriously planning to kill every single one of them?"

Ian’s lips curled into a bitter scoff, his words as cold as the mountain air. "What’s the difference between killing one and killing them all?"

The years Ian had spent as a blade of Stellar Devourers had eroded any respect he might have once had for human life. His casual tone made Skylight’s jaw tighten, his gaze darkening with disappointment.

"Ian," Skylight said quietly, though his voice carried an unmistakable firmness. "Life matters. We can’t just snuff it out because it’s convenient."

Ian turned his face away, withdrawing from Skylight’s reach as his voice grew even colder. "That’s what YOU think. As far as I’m concerned, every single person out there—except you and me—deserves to die."

Skylight’s heart sank as he looked into Ian’s frosty, distant eyes. He let out a long, defeated sigh, the words he wanted to say slipping away before they could form.

But before Skylight could attempt another plea, his senses flared in warning.

A suffocating energy descended, prickling the back of his neck. His head snapped up just in time to spot a figure perched silently on a tree branch above them, so still that she seemed like a statue carved from the shadows.

Skylight and Ian reacted instantly, their years of survival instincts kicking in.

Without exchanging a word, they moved in unison, launching an attack aimed to neutralize the figure before they could act. But their efforts were futile—before their powers could even manifest, blades of radiant emerald light appeared, pressed against their throats.

Skylight froze, his chest rising and falling rapidly as disbelief washed over him. He was no amateur; his psychokinetic abilities, while not the best of the best, had earned him his rank as a level-eight Peculiar.

And yet, he hadn’t even been able to blink before the stranger had disarmed them. ’Who... or what... is she?’

Beside him, Ian trembled uncontrollably, his instincts betraying his usually cold demeanor. This fear was different—primal and overwhelming. It dug into him, twisting his gut and freezing his limbs. ’Why am I so terrified? Is it... because we’re the same kind’

Ian opened his mouth, his voice barely a whisper. "You..."

The person finally moved, stepping off the branch. She descended gracefully, carried by a shimmering shield of light that glided effortlessly through the air.

As she landed, the blades at their throats stayed perfectly in place, their edges humming softly.

It was Lyra.

Lyra’s gaze swept the area, searching for hidden traps or backup, but none appeared.

Satisfied, she turned her attention to the two men, her lips curving into a cold, amused smile.

"Abandoned, have we?" she asked, her tone mocking but layered with sharp menace.

Ian flushed, his humiliation burning hotter than the fear gripping him. He snarled, his defiance rising in an effort to mask his terror. "It’s none of your damn business, you—"

The insult died in his throat as his eyes locked with hers. Her dark, fathomless gaze silenced him completely, his voice strangled by some invisible force.

Ian tried to speak, but the words refused to come. ’What’s happening? Why can’t I talk?’

Seeing Ian falter, Skylight stepped forward, his voice shaking with urgency. "We... we were cast aside. We’re worthless to the Empire now. Kill me if you must, but I’m begging you—spare Ian. You’re the same kind, aren’t you?"

Lyra’s sharp gaze snapped to Skylight, her voice cutting through the air like frost. "The same kind? Him?" She shook her head, her expression twisting into one of disdain. "He’s not my kind. He’s prey."

With a simple flick of her fingers, the light blade pressed against Ian’s chest plunged deep. He collapsed instantly, his body crumpling to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.

"No!" Skylight’s anguished scream echoed across the clearing. He lunged forward, but the oppressive green light held him in place, rendering him powerless.

He dropped to his knees, his face contorted in agony. "Ian! Stay with me! Use the black hole—wake up! Don’t leave me!"

He crawled to Ian’s lifeless form, shaking him violently, his voice breaking with despair. "Ian! Look at me! Look at me!"

The blade of light, still lodged in Ian’s chest, glimmered faintly before dissolving into the air.

Skylight turned his grief-stricken face toward Lyra, his rage burning bright in his tear-filled eyes. But deep down, he knew resistance was useless. Her presence alone had rendered them helpless.

Lyra’s expression didn’t change. With a flick of her wrist, the light coiled around Ian’s body, hoisting it into the air.

A second tendril wrapped around Skylight, pulling him up alongside his fallen companion. She rose into the air, her wings of light carrying her effortlessly toward the distant horizon.

*****

As Lyra approached a fleet of military helicopters hovering in formation, her radiant form silhouetted against the sunlit sky, the soldiers aboard watched her arrival with bated breath.

Cohen was standing in the open doorway of a chopper. He squinted through the harsh wind and called out. "How did it go?" His voice barely carried over the noise of the blades.

Lyra didn’t answer. Instead, she raised her hand, revealing the glowing bundle of light she carried. The forms of Skylight and Ian, limp and lifeless, were visible within.

Cohen’s face paled as she landed, stepping into the helicopter’s cabin.

The bodies dropped heavily to the floor with an audible thud. Cohen stared, recognizing them instantly. "It’s... them?"

The other soldiers exchanged uneasy glances. There was no mistaking it.

Skylight and Ian, once the Empire’s most feared enforcers, had met their end at last.