Interstellar: Return of the Villain
Chapter 280: Level Nine

Chapter 280: Level Nine

The reconnaissance team huddled around the satellite feed, their faces ghostly pale. Without missing a beat, one officer relayed the grim news to Frederick. "The Empire’s launched a full-scale offensive! Their fleet’s advancing—two motherships included!"

"Mobilize all units, now!" Frederick barked, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

The warships buzzed to life as soldiers scrambled into action with military precision. Lyra was no exception, though she couldn’t avoid Orson’s familiar antagonism. "Lyra, you’ll stay back and guard the ship!" he ordered, his tone dripping with condescension.

Ever since Reck and others like him—those who had stolen her glory—met their untimely ends, few dared challenge Lyra’s reputation. But Orson’s resentment lingered, and sidelining her was his petty revenge.

Before she could reply, Thierry chimed in, her voice sharp with mockery. "And if the Stellar Devourer shows up, will you take care of it, sir?"

The jab hit its mark. Orson stiffened, glaring at Thierry before throwing one last scowl at Lyra, who remained cool and collected. Without another word, he stormed off, leaving her fate in her own hands.

Thierry smothered a laugh, her eyes sparkling with mischief, but Lyra ignored it. She marched to the launch bay, her resolve unshaken by Orson’s pettiness. This battle wasn’t waiting for anyone’s approval.

Meanwhile, aboard the enemy flagship, Tauras fixed Barrett with a steely gaze near the hyperspace gateway. "Get it done. Quickly."

Barrett nodded curtly, stepping through the shimmering gateway with the Stellar Devourer at his side.

The battlefield erupted into chaos as both sides unleashed their deadliest forces. High-energy weapons lit up the void, commanding officers fought alongside Peculiars, and destruction reigned supreme. This wasn’t a skirmish; it was a do-or-die clash for supremacy.

For Lyra, this wasn’t a fight she could win by herself. She stayed laser-focused on her mission: neutralizing Stellar Devourers.

With the Empire Supremes faced with equally powerful Peculiars, her path was momentarily clear. But as the battle dragged on, a nagging thought grew louder in her mind.

Where were the rest of the Stellar Devourers?

Her mech wove through the carnage, her eyes scanning for answers amid the chaos. Something wasn’t adding up.

"What’s wrong, Lyra?" Thierry’s voice crackled through the comms as Lyra obliterated an enemy mech with a precise shot.

"We’re heading back to the main ship," Lyra said abruptly, her tone leaving no room for debate.

As they raced toward the main ship, their path was immediately blocked by enemy Peculiars and Stellar Devourers. The fierce resistance only confirmed Lyra’s suspicions. The Empire wasn’t just attacking—they had a plan.

After a brutal fight, they finally broke through and reached the docking bay.

It was a scene of frantic activity as fighters and mechas swarmed in for resupply. But Lyra’s instincts flared again.

"Stop, Thierry!" she shouted.

Thierry slammed the brakes on her mecha, narrowly avoiding collision. Lyra’s voice was firm and urgent. "Report to Fleet Admiral Whyte. Now. The Stellar Devourers are already on board."

Thierry didn’t hesitate. Her warning shot straight up the chain of command. Even Orson, who might’ve balked earlier, stayed silent. Within moments, Frederick was notified.

"Contact Dale immediately," Frederick commanded. His mind raced as he grasped the gravity of the situation. The main ship wasn’t just a target—it was a lifeline for the fleet.

But it was already too late.

Inside the main ship, the scene was utter devastation. Nearly a hundred Stellar Devourers had breached the recovery bay, turning the docking doors into a black hole.

Simultaneously, they seized the command center and communications hub, cutting off the flagship from the rest of the fleet.

In the command room, Barrett stood triumphant, his weapon trained on Admiral Dale. Around him, Stellar Devourers and enemy Peculiars mercilessly slaughtered the crew. Others worked furiously to hack the ship’s AI, their goal clear: activate the self-destruct sequence and annihilate the fleet’s backbone.

"Hurry it up!" Barrett growled, casting an impatient glance at the chaos outside.

Admiral Dale, bloodied but defiant, summoned the last of his strength. If he couldn’t win, he’d take the invaders with him. But as he prepared to self-destruct, Barrett moved swiftly, landing a brutal kick that sent the admiral crashing into the wall.

"Not so fast," Barrett sneered, strapping a superpower suppressor onto Dale. "An enemy admiral, alive? That’s a prize I won’t pass up."

The colossal starship hung in space like a wounded animal. Its once-lively corridors now echoed with screams and gunfire, its command room a scene of calculated carnage.

Lyra stretched her psychokinesis across the fleet, her brow furrowed deeply as her senses absorbed the chaos.

Each scan revealed a more dire situation, and her expression grew darker with every moment.

"Lyra, what’s happening?" Thierry’s voice crackled over the comms, tight with urgency.

"It’s bad," Lyra said curtly.

As if on cue, two supply ships detonated in devastating explosions.

Without an atmosphere to contain the blasts, torrents of raw energy radiated outward, disintegrating nearby fighters and mechas queued for refueling.

The destruction was absolute—an entire section of the fleet wiped out in an instant.

Lyra’s frown deepened. "We’re out of time for strategy."

In a heartbeat, her superpower surged, the intensity radiating from her like a palpable storm. Thierry, stunned, could only watch as the force caused nearby soldiers to stumble, their faces pale with shock under the weight of her energy.

Without a word, Lyra climbed into a basic mecha and snapped on an oxygen supply system. Then, like an arrow loosed from a bow, she launched herself directly toward the flagship’s compromised command center.

Inside the command room, Admiral Dale stood on the precipice of despair, alarms blaring around him. The blinding red of the emergency lights illuminated the faces of his crew as chaos consumed the room.

A deafening crash interrupted the din as the room’s massive front window shattered, exposing them to the vacuum of space.

The air rushed out, sucking crew members and equipment into the void. Those still alive clung desperately to whatever they could, their terror mirrored in their wide eyes.

Before anyone could react, a figure burst into the room with lethal precision, cutting down adversaries one by one. Lyra.

Lyra moved like a force of nature, her blade slicing cleanly through resistance.

As she swung toward Barrett, she noticed the insignia on his shoulder—a rare mark of admiral rank. Lyra adjusted mid-strike, sparing his life but severing his arm with surgical precision.

Barrett crumpled, clutching the bleeding stump of his arm.

Lyra didn’t hesitate, pulling the suffocating Admiral Dale toward safety. She deployed a glowing green energy shield over the gaping breach, sealing it and restoring pressure to the room.

As air flooded back in, Lyra extended her psychokinesis, immobilizing Barrett completely before deactivating the ship’s self-destruct sequence.

Dale, gasping for breath, straightened and looked at her with grudging admiration. "Just in time. Let’s move to—"

But Lyra was already gone. "You take the rest," she called over her shoulder. "I’ll handle the Stellar Devourers."

The news of Lyra’s counterattack spread like wildfire through the enemy forces. Stellar Devourers began to panic.

"The gateways aren’t responding!"

"The black hole connection’s severed!"

"What’s that green light?"

A faint luminescent glow had begun to seep into every corner of the flagship, an oppressive force that seemed to permeate their very being. It wasn’t just light—it was power, suffocating and primal.

"How can anyone wield this kind of strength?!" one cried out, trembling.

But Lyra could, and she did.

Outside, Thierry stared in disbelief as the green light radiated from the flagship, illuminating the surrounding void. Her voice was barely a whisper. "She’s... she’s level nine already..."

Far away, deep within the black hole, Westros froze as the connection to the Stellar Devourers abruptly ended. He felt the crushing loss in his mind—a cold certainty that his forces were gone.

"How is this possible?" His voice shook. And then the weight of a crushing presence bore down on him, making him gasp in realization.

"This... this must be the rules themselves."

Back on the battlefield, the tide had turned. With Barrett captured and the Stellar Devourers obliterated, the Alliance rallied.

What had seemed like certain defeat now became a rallying cry as they stabilized the lines and pressed forward with renewed strength.

On the enemy flagship, Tauras clenched his fists as he watched his forces crumble. He barked the inevitable order. "Retreat! All units, retreat!"

But just as the Empire’s fleet began to pull back, a ripple of spatial distortion tore through the flagship’s command center. Two figures materialized from the void.

Tauras spun, ready to attack, but the sheer gravity of their presence slammed him to the ground. Frederick stepped forward, his gaze cold. "Lynn, if you’d be so kind."

Lynn nodded, and with a flick of her will, Tauras’ head collapsed inward. His body fell lifeless to the floor as Frederick calmly activated the flagship’s self-destruct sequence.

"Tauras," Frederick murmured, almost pitying. "You had your chance."

The flagship exploded in a brilliant flash, a fiery wave consuming the remnants of the Empire’s fleet. The battle ended in devastation, with the Empire losing two admirals and the core of its forces in one catastrophic blow.

As the dust settled, the galaxy echoed with Lyra’s name.

Lyra wasn’t just a warrior anymore. She was a legend.