Interstellar: Return of the Villain
Chapter 283: A Hash World

Chapter 283: A Hash World

The Empire had sent two Supremes, confident that such a force would be more than enough to secure Barrett’s rescue. But they hadn’t accounted for Lyra, whose recent ascension to level-nine made her a formidable opponent.

While the Supremes’ powers could threaten her, Lyra’s physical combat abilities turned the tide in close quarters. Even the smallest hesitation on their part meant taking a punishing blow.

Lyra swung her staff with precision, scattering a volley of metallic sand aimed at her squad. Though the staff disintegrated under the strain, she deftly dodged and formed another weapon mid-movement, her efficiency unrelenting.

Nearby, the old man lifted a Lev as though it were weightless and hurled it toward an extradimensional portal.

Lyra intercepted, closing the portal with her powers before the Lev could pass through. It crashed to the ground with a deafening clang.

Lyra’s tenacity paid off. She held the line just long enough for Alliance reinforcements to arrive—two Supremes of their own.

With Lyra now supported by equally powerful allies, the enemy quickly lost their upper hand.

Realizing their disadvantage, the enemy leader gave the order to retreat.

Lyra had anticipated this. Earlier, she had sealed off the surrounding extradimensional rifts, forcing the enemy to flee on foot using their superpowers.

Without hesitation, the two Alliance Supremes pursued them, intent on capturing at least one Stellar Devourer for research.

"Lyra, follow them!" Orson barked, his tone heavy with authority.

Lyra didn’t budge. "I must guard Barrett."

Her calm response frustrated Orson. With both Supremes gone, the remaining convoy was now defended only by level-eight Peculiars.

If Lyra left, it would leave a gaping hole in their defenses.

"I’m the mission commander!" Orson snapped. "I’m ordering you to pursue them!"

One of the mission’s critical objectives was to bring back a captured Stellar Devourer. Only Lyra’s unmatched strength could make that possible.

"As you command," she said, her tone even.

Before departing, Lyra’s gaze lingered on the prisoner transport.

Orson caught her look and felt a twinge of unease. ’Is there something she hasn’t told me?’

Shaking off his doubts, Orson dismissed the moment and led the convoy forward. He reassured himself that the suppressor key was in his possession. ’Nothing can possibly go wrong—right?’

The convoy hadn’t traveled far when the prisoner transport suddenly came to an inexplicable stop.

"What now?" Orson growled, stepping out to investigate. He surveyed the surroundings cautiously but saw nothing amiss. Approaching the transport car, he knocked sharply on the window.

No response.

Frowning, Orson walked to the front of the vehicle. His heart nearly stopped when he looked inside.

The driver, the guards, the prisoner—all gone.

Orson stumbled back, his mind reeling. Panic surged through him, but he forced himself to regain composure.

"Start searching immediately!" he bellowed, though his voice betrayed his anxiety.

In a desolate, barren landscape, a black hole shimmered into existence, depositing three figures onto the ground.

"Cough, cough! What just happened?" Barrett growled, brushing dirt from his uniform.

Ian staggered to his feet, only to collapse again as a glowing green collar reappeared around his neck. The suppressor activated with a painful pulse, sending him writhing in agony.

"Ian!" Skylight rushed to his side, ignoring Barrett as he tried to help Ian stand.

"That damn witch!" Ian spat, fury and pain twisting his features. He clawed at the collar, his attempts to remove it only intensifying the feedback.

Barrett, growing impatient, grabbed Ian by the collar and snarled, "What’s going on? Did you betray us?"

"Let him go, sir!" Skylight shouted, prying at Barrett’s grip.

"Stay out of this!" Barrett roared, shoving Skylight away with force enhanced by his newly liberated powers.

The impact sent Skylight hurtling backward, his body slamming into a jagged rock. He hit the ground with a sickening crack, blood pooling rapidly beneath him.

"Skylight!" Ian’s anguished scream echoed across the empty landscape. His eyes, already bloodshot, filled with tears as helpless rage consumed him.

The collar pulsed again, driving him further into the ground.

Barrett froze, the gravity of what he’d done dawning on him. Then he scowled, unwilling to acknowledge his guilt. "You’re a level-eight Peculiar, Skylight. Quit faking it!"

But Skylight didn’t move.

"Get up!" Ian’s voice broke as he cried out again.

Blood streamed down Skylight’s head, soaking the ground as Ian’s desperate pleas filled the air.

Barrett frowned, his confusion growing. "Why isn’t he using his powers?"

He didn’t realize the answer lay in Lyra’s meticulous planning. She had suppressed their abilities with psychokinetic markers before allowing their escape.

By eliminating any trace of superpower particles at the scene, she ensured no evidence could lead back to her.

Though she had seemingly let them go, Lyra had done so only under her terms. They were free—but only within boundaries she controlled.

Just as the desolate clearing descended into grim silence, Orson arrived with reinforcements. His voice rang out with authority, shattering the eerie stillness.

"Arrest them all!" he barked, unaware of the disaster looming before him.

Barrett’s lips curled into a cruel grin as his body began to morph, flesh and bone reshaping into a towering demon-beast form.

Now standing over three meters tall, he exuded a monstrous presence. With a single swipe of his massive claw, he decapitated Orson in one horrifying motion. The man’s head hit the ground before anyone could react.

Barrett, a level-nine Peculiar, made quick work of the rest of the squad. His claws tore through flesh and bone as though they were paper.

Within seconds, the clearing was painted red, and silence returned—broken only by Skylight’s faint groans as he lay injured on the blood-soaked ground.

Barrett surveyed the scene, his glowing eyes flickering between the carnage and the two people left alive.

He grabbed Ian, who was still doubled over in pain, his suppressor collar glowing faintly.

For a moment, Barrett hesitated, debating whether to wait for reinforcements or flee to ensure he wouldn’t be abandoned.

"Wait! Skylight isn’t dead. Take him with us!" Ian’s voice was hoarse with desperation as he stretched an arm toward his unconscious brother.

Barrett growled, his annoyance evident even in his monstrous form.

Ignoring Ian’s plea, Barrett seized him by the arm and spread his massive wings. The wind roared as he launched into the air, leaving Skylight behind in the clearing.

Two minutes later, Lyra arrived. She moved through the carnage with quiet purpose, her expression unreadable.

Lynn stood at her side, his jaw clenched in fury as he took in the aftermath. "Damn the Empire spies!" he spat, his voice sharp. His gaze landed on Skylight, who was barely clinging to life among the remains of the squad.

Without hesitation, Lynn raised a hand, and Skylight’s chest erupted in a spray of blood. The young man’s body convulsed before going still.

Lynn turned to Lyra, his tone grim. "Lieutenant Commander Shedd, see if there’s anyone left to save. I’m going after the fugitives."

Before Lyra could respond, Lynn vanished, using teleportation to pursue Barrett and Ian.

Left alone, Lyra knelt beside Skylight’s lifeless body.

Her hand slipped into his pocket, pulling out a travel pass of her caravan.

A trace of unease crossed her face—if the pass were found by the military, her own involvement in this debacle would be exposed.

She tucked it away in her uniform and examined Skylight’s injuries.

His chest rose and fell faintly. Blood seeped into the dirt around him, pooling beneath his head. His eyes fluttered open, dull and unfocused, but filled with unspoken pleas.

For a moment, Lyra hesitated. Then, with a faint spark of energy, she sent a trace of vitality into his body, enough to draw his consciousness back from the brink.

Skylight’s voice was weak, trembling as he spoke. "Ian... he’s not like you." His breath hitched as he struggled to continue. "When we were kids, over three thousand of us were implanted with black hole seeds. Only two survived."

Lyra listened silently, her face impassive.

"They didn’t alter us—they made us vessels for the black holes. The others... their bodies disintegrated. Not even their bones were left. Ian and I were the only ones who made it."

He coughed weakly, blood staining his lips. His dim eyes stared upward, lost in painful memories.

"Our parents died in the war. We grew up in the same orphanage. I promised to protect him, but... when Westros came to choose test subjects, I was afraid. Ian stood up for me. They took him instead of me."

His words cracked under the weight of guilt.

"He survived and escaped, only to find his birth mother. She... sold him. He killed her and her buyer, then ran until he found me again. For a while, we stayed together. But then the Stellar Devourer came..."

Skylight’s voice faltered, and tears spilled down his face as he choked out his final words.

"The day we met again... the sun was so bright. It felt like a rebirth. But we both cried."

His breathing slowed, and his eyelids grew heavy.

"I thought the military would keep me away from war. I thought I’d be safe... but I broke my promise. Lyra, please... save him. Don’t let them use him again."

The faint vitality Lyra had granted him flickered and faded.

Skylight’s head tilted to the side as a final tear slipped from his eye, mingling with the blood that soaked his hair. His lips parted one last time.

"If only... this world were kinder to us..."

Lyra rose to her feet slowly, her face unreadable as she stared down at Skylight’s body.

The crimson stains of battle were everywhere, painting the earth and clinging to the air like a heavy shroud.

The wind shifted, carrying away the faint scent of blood. Lyra closed her eyes briefly, exhaling a soft sigh. Her steps faltered for a moment as she turned to leave, but she didn’t look back.

The world was harsh—she knew this truth better than anyone. It was no place for kindness, no matter how desperately people longed for it.

Yet, for the briefest second, a thought lingered in her mind, unspoken and fleeting.

’If only.’