Interstellar: Return of the Villain
Chapter 273: Coming Back To Life

Chapter 273: Coming Back To Life

Lyra stepped into the helicopter, her movements precise as she stowed Schedar back into her Space Button with practiced ease.

"All dead?" Cohen asked, his tone casual, though the answer was obvious.

"They hijacked a truck full of supplies and nearly killed Caesara," Lyra replied without emotion, her voice as cold as the mountain air.

Cohen gave a slight nod, unsurprised. Mercy wasn’t in Lyra’s repertoire—not for enemies like these.

He signaled to a military medic, who swiftly examined the bodies. After confirming both were lifeless, Cohen began arranging for their transfer.

"They were high-value targets," he remarked, his tone clipped and professional. "Their deaths will count toward military commendations."

Lyra’s expression didn’t change. "Fine." She turned to leave but paused after a few steps. Glancing back, she added, "Leave the bodies with me. I’ll handle the dissection."

Cohen raised an eyebrow at her request but didn’t question it outright. After a moment’s thought, he replied, "Once the formalities are complete, I’ll have them sent to the your base."

Lyra nodded curtly, the conversation over.

*****

That evening, under the sterile glow of an overhead satellite, Lyra sat at her desk, her face illuminated by the harsh white light of her lamp.

The cold, clinical atmosphere matched the chill of the corpse storage room below.

Shane entered quietly, his tone respectful as he reported, "The bodies have arrived. Should I take them to the morgue?"

"Send them to Sublevel 1," Lyra replied without looking up, her focus still on the documents she was finishing.

By the time she descended to the lab, it was well past midnight.

The base’s sublevels hummed with quiet energy—most of the research teams were still hard at work, their dedication to their experiments stronger than any need for sleep.

The corpse storage room was stark and frigid, the faint scent of antiseptic lingering in the air.

On the examination table lay the naked bodies of Ian and Skylight, their pallid forms marked by crude autopsy stitches.

Ian’s torso bore jagged incisions, poorly sewn together, leaving his body a grotesque patchwork.

Lyra’s lips curled into a faint sneer. ’Typical. The military can’t resist cutting up hybrids like lab rats. Who knows how much they’ve already ruined?’

Shane watched uneasily as Lyra approached the bodies. Her demeanor shifted, the usual calm control replaced by an intensity he rarely saw.

Lyra raised her hand, fingers splayed, and the room filled with a strange, green glow. The light shimmered like a swarm of fireflies, swirling above the corpses before sinking into their still flesh.

Shane’s breath hitched as he saw their chests suddenly rise. His heart pounded. "Are they... coming back to life?"

Ian’s eyes snapped open, and he bolted upright with a sharp gasp, clutching his chest. "Argh! That hurts like hell!" His gaze landed on Lyra, and his expression twisted into fury. "You witch!"

Shane stumbled back, gripping the nearest surface for support as Ian’s voice rang out, seething with venom and raw pain.

"You sucked almost every ounce of life out of us," Ian snarled, his voice trembling with rage. "Just enough to keep a flicker alive. And then—what? You relight it? Right at the edge of death?"

Ian’s hands trembled as he recalled the agony of being dissected, fully conscious yet unable to move. The memory of scalpels carving through his flesh and organs made his stomach churn.

Skylight stirred beside him, sitting up slowly. Unlike Ian, his anger was muted, replaced by a cautious wariness.

Skylight locked eyes with Lyra, his voice calm but sharp. "You went to a lot of trouble to bring us back. What do you want, Miss Shedd?"

"For now? Nothing." Lyra gestured toward Shane. "Get them work permits and synthetic biomimetic masks."

Shane blinked, startled by the practicality of her command. Still, he nodded and moved to carry it out. ’She’s making them work? Using them like laborers? That’s... bold, even for her.’

Lyra glanced at the two men as Shane stepped away. "Too bad we don’t have a cosmetic surgeon on hand. It would’ve saved us the trouble of masks."

The masks would effectively disguise their identities, concealing them from military scrutiny. Lyra had no intention of letting the two use their powers openly; the risks were too great.

Still, even without their full capabilities, the two former Empire enforcers were assets that could be exploited.

Even hauling supplies or performing menial tasks would save resources—and Lyra was nothing if not resourceful.

Before leaving the room, Lyra leaned over both men, her hand glowing faintly. She implanted psychokinetic marks into their bodies, ensuring their compliance.

Skylight winced as the mark settled into his spine, while Ian spat curses, his pride stinging more than his body.

Shane observed in silence, his admiration for Lyra growing despite himself. ’She’s audacious, alright. Stealing these two out from under the military’s nose? That takes guts.’

Once the marks were set, Shane checked the time and gasped softly. "Boss, you’ve only got an hour left before your leave is up."

Lyra straightened, her demeanor unruffled. The two-day leave she’d earned for her role in the recent invasion had been rare, and she intended to make the most of what remained.

With one last glance at the subdued Skylight and Ian, she turned to leave.

As she walked away, a faint smirk crossed her lips. ’Not bad for two days.’

Lyra gave a slight nod of acknowledgment, her sharp gaze pinning Skylight and Ian in place. "From this moment on, forget who you were. If you so much as think about disloyalty, death will be the kindest option you’ll get."

With those chilling words, she turned sharply and strode down the corridor. Halfway through, her lips curled into a cold smirk, and her pace quickened, as if the matter was already beneath her consideration.

*****

In the sterile, dimly lit room they’d been left in, Ian writhed on the operating table, his teeth clenched in agony.

Around his neck, a glowing green collar shimmered faintly, a suppressor designed to crush any attempt to access his black hole abilities.

"That witch!" Ian snarled, his voice strained as he pushed against the collar’s crushing restraints. Veins bulged on his neck, his face reddened with the effort to summon even a flicker of his power.

"Stop it, Ian!" Skylight hurried to his side, gripping his shoulders. "You’ll kill yourself if you keep pushing it. Pull your power back!"

Ian’s eyes fluttered as his strength waned. "I... have to get you out of here," he rasped.

A small, flickering black dot appeared in his palm, barely the size of a pinhead. But the collar’s green light surged violently, extinguishing the spark in an instant.

Ian’s body convulsed once before going limp, his head lolling to the side.

Skylight quickly checked his pulse, his shoulders sagging with relief when he found it still faintly beating. Ian was alive—barely.

Moments later, the door slid open with a quiet hiss, and Shane entered, carrying two synthetic biomimetic masks. He placed them on the nearby counter with a casual grin. "Better cooperate. SHE doesn’t give second chances. But, if you follow the rules, things won’t be too bad."

Skylight looked up, his expression skeptical. "You sound awfully comfortable in her shadow. Let me guess—you’re the poster boy for loyalty?"

Shane smirked, pushing his gold-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Hardly. Before this, I ran a crew of space pirates."

The admission caught Skylight off guard. He studied Shane more carefully, noting the impeccable appearance: a crisp white shirt, tailored black slacks, and an air of polished confidence.

Yet beneath that clean-cut exterior, Skylight sensed something sharp and dangerous—a blade hidden in a velvet sheath.

"Believe it or not," Shane continued, his tone almost smug, "most of HER people aren’t exactly saints... Oh, except for Debbie. She’s a civilian. Every one of us used to be in... let’s say, morally ambiguous professions. Former gang leaders, mercenaries, space pirates—you name it." He chuckled darkly. "With your skills, you might climb the ladder here faster than you did as a Rear Admiral."

Skylight stiffened but couldn’t suppress a bitter laugh. ’Rear Admiral to fugitive... now this. Life really does love its ironies.’

"Not like we have any better options," Skylight muttered, more to himself than Shane.

After helping Ian put on the biomimetic mask, Skylight followed Shane to their new quarters.

*****

"This block is reserved for key personnel," Shane explained as they stepped into a well-secured area of the facility. "You’re free to leave, but only with an authorized escort. Stick to the rules, and you’ll be fine."

After detailing the facility’s regulations, Shane gave Skylight a light pat on the shoulder. "Good luck. You’re gonna need it."

As Shane walked away, Skylight mulled over the unspoken confidence in Lyra’s setup.

Despite the lack of physical confinement, he knew they weren’t truly free. He could feel the faint hum of the psychokinetic mark Lyra had embedded in his mind, a constant reminder of her control.

Still, Shame couldn’t help marveling at her audacity. ’This is what real power looks like.’

******

The next morning, Ian stirred in bed, his eyes dull as they stared at the ceiling. "I’ve dragged you into this mess," he murmured, his voice hoarse. "You could’ve gone back to the Empire... but now—"

"Don’t start," Skylight interrupted, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "We’re in this together. I’ve already given too much to the Empire. If protecting you means swallowing my pride, then so be it."

Ian’s gaze hardened slightly. "You’re serious about working for that woman?"

Skylight nodded. "For once, Ian, we need to live for ourselves. Not as pawns. Lyra’s team might not be paradise, but it’s better than dying for the Empire or Stellar Devourers. This is freedom, even if it’s a small taste of it."

"I hate this!" Ian snapped, his hands balling into fists. His voice trembled with a mix of anger and fear. "But... if you’re staying, I’ll follow."

After a moment of silence, Ian added, "There’s one condition."

Skylight arched an eyebrow. "What is it?"

Ian hesitated, then muttered, "Lyra has business at Voidstar No. 2, doesn’t she? When the time comes, ask her to let us go there."

"Voidstar?" Skylight frowned, suspicious. "What are you planning?"

Ian’s eyes flickered with a faint desperation. "It’s our best shot at real freedom. If we can make it there..." He trailed off, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I’ll even beg her if I have to."

The word "beg" carried so much bitterness that Skylight almost laughed. But seeing the raw determination in Ian’s eyes, he simply sighed and clapped him on the shoulder.

"We’ll see how far this road takes us."