Interstellar: Return of the Villain
Chapter 316: Swept into the Wormhole

Chapter 316: Swept into the Wormhole

Conners stood pinned between the wall and the sharp edge of Lyra’s sword, its tip pressing threateningly against his neck.

Then, in an instant, the blade halted mid-air.

Eyes widened in shock as a swirling black hole materialized between the sword and Conners.

"Lyra, must you really go against me?" Conners shouted, his voice dripping with desperation.

The pretense was gone. His mask of loyalty had fully fallen, revealing a sneer. "No wonder Westros was so insistent on recruiting you. With you against us, our plans never stood a chance."

Lynn, who had moments earlier been trying to hold Lyra back, froze in disbelief. His voice broke after a long silence. "You... you’re a spy?"

The revelation landed like a thunderclap. Admiral Conners, a figure admired throughout the Alliance, was an infiltrator. The betrayal shook the very foundation of their trust.

Trembling with emotion, Lynn confronted him. "Conners, how could you betray the faith Frederick and the Alliance placed in you? Your family, your honor—don’t they mean anything?"

"None of that matters to me!" Conners snapped, his voice cold and unrepentant.

The "injuries" he’d sustained earlier began to heal unnaturally fast.

Lynn’s face turned pale as realization dawned. "You... you’ve undergone superpower modification?"

"Not just any superpower," Conners said with a smirk. "Supreme-level. Endless Vitality. I can survive as nothing more than a head, even if my bones turn to dust. I’m immortal."

Lyra, who had remained silent, let out a frosty chuckle. "Is that so?"

Before Conners could process her words, he heard a whisper—low and chilling, like a death knell. He reached for his powers, but Lyra moved with blinding speed, binding his hands before he could react.

Switching her sword into twin blades, Lyra unleashed a torrent of strikes. Conners screamed in pain as he tried to escape, but the relentless arcs of her blades boxed him in.

Her eyes, cold and unblinking, mirrored her deadly precision.

Though his superpower worked to heal him, blood poured in torrents, staining the floor of the medical hall. Still, Lyra’s attacks left him cornered.

Drenched in sweat, Conners grinned darkly. "What can you possibly do to me, Lyra?"

Lyra’s blades glowed with a menacing green light. With a decisive slash, she carved a cross-shaped wound into his chest.

"See? That won’t—ahhhh!" Conners’ words dissolved into a blood-curdling scream. His body convulsed violently as the wound refused to heal, blood gushing endlessly.

Lyra pointed her blade at him, her voice icy and resolute. "How does it feel? Being torn between life and death?"

With swift precision, she severed his left leg, sending blood spraying like a geyser. A second swing took his right leg. Two more strikes rendered him a limbless husk.

Smirking, Lyra’s blood-splattered lips curled into a chilling grin. "Now... for the rest."

Her blade inched closer to Conners’ trembling face, and his pupils shrank in terror. Desperately, he cried into the void, "Save me... save me!"

As if answering his plea, the wall behind him turned jet black. His body collapsed backward into the darkness.

Lyra quickly summoned a shield of light, bracing herself, but a fiery wave of energy burst forth from the black hole. The heat it radiated was unimaginable—so intense it felt as though it could melt flesh and bone in an instant.

Even Lynn, a Supreme, felt his hair stand on end. His voice quaked as he muttered:

"This... this is... an Overarching!"

An Overarching Peculiar—a mythical being spoken of only in whispers, beings who transcended the universe itself. They were the closest to godlike entities.

For the first time in his life, Lynn, a Supreme feared across galaxies, was gripped by sheer panic. His hands trembled as he used his powers to sever the surrounding space from the wormhole.

Yet the fiery heat continued to pour through, melting the walls around the black hole. The scene before them became a surreal nightmare of flames and shadows.

As despair filled the room, delicate snowflakes began to fall, each one sparkling as it collided with the intense heat.

Lyra had activated her Power of Freezing, a stark counter to the fiery force emanating from the black hole.

The air grew taut with opposing forces—scorching heat and piercing cold locked in a deadly equilibrium.

Suddenly, a molten chain shot out from the black hole, its red-hot surface crackling as it wrapped around Lyra, dragging her toward the abyss.

"Lyra!" Phelixes lunged to save her, but as his hand touched the searing chain, his arm was burned to the bone. The agony was overwhelming, yet he refused to let go.

Lyra, however, did not resist. Her calm expression betrayed that this was part of her plan.

She allowed herself to be pulled toward the void.

"Sis!" Phelixes cried, his voice breaking. Without hesitation, he grabbed her hand, prepared to follow her into the unknown.

As they crossed into the black hole, Lyra made her final move.

With one swift slash of her blade, she dismembered Conners, ensuring he could never escape.

The fragments of his body were expelled from the black hole just before it snapped shut, leaving behind only a heap of lifeless gore and an eerie silence.

The medical facility trembled under the aftershocks of the clash. Lynn, regaining his composure, acted quickly to stabilize the crumbling structure.

"Evacuate the wounded!" he commanded, his tone sharp with urgency.

Mandy, standing motionless, stared at the space where Lyra had disappeared. Her legs gave out, and she collapsed to the floor, silent tears streaming down her face as the weight of the moment pressed down on her.

That day became a dark Chapter in the Alliance’s history, marked by loss and sacrifice.

...

In the official records of the Alliance, the events were chronicled:

- Admiral Conners, a traitor, met his end by Lyra’s hand.

- Thierry Whyte, nephew of the Fleet Admiral, was killed in action.

- Legion Glory was decimated, leaving only two survivors.

- The Empire breached the Alliance’s defenses, claiming Snowfall and two Voidstar colonies.

- And Lyra Shedd, the Valkyrie of the Alliance, along with her adjutant, was pulled into a black hole by an Overarching. Their fate remained a mystery.

...

Far from the battle, a battered warship drifted through the vastness of space. A blue planet loomed ahead, its surface shimmering with an ethereal glow.

"Sir, we’re approaching Planet Nagano’s jurisdiction," the pilot announced in a weary but determined tone.

Kogar, seated in the co-pilot’s chair, opened his eyes and nodded. "Request landing clearance immediately."

Rising, he glanced at the empty commander’s seat before heading toward the rest chamber.

He knocked lightly on the door, waiting.

After a long pause, a hoarse voice called out, "Come in."

Inside, a young man sat hunched on the edge of the bed. His once-proud posture was now broken, weighed down by grief.

Beside him rested two military caps—his own and Thierry’s. His white uniform was charred and bloodstained, his eyes bloodshot, and his unshaven face darkened by despair.

"We’ve arrived at Planet Nagano," Kogar said quietly, his voice thick with emotion.

Cohen remained silent.

Kogar hesitated, searching for words, but none seemed adequate. He, too, was haunted by memories of Thierry’s bright smile—and the moment it was snuffed out.

The ship jolted gently as it landed.

Cohen wiped his face and forced himself to stand. He had a task to complete, a confrontation he could not avoid.

...

Cohen entered Frederick’s office, immediately met by the acrid stench of cigarette smoke. Through the haze, their eyes locked—father and son, both bearing the weight of their shared loss.

"Do you blame me?" Frederick asked, his voice heavy with resignation.

Cohen’s reply was calm but cut deep. "If Lyra had been there, Thierry wouldn’t have died."

The words landed like a blow. Lyra, the one person who could have turned the tide, had been imprisoned under Frederick’s orders. In his heart, Frederick knew his actions had indirectly led to Thierry’s death.

Frederick’s hand trembled, the cigarette burning down to ash. Cohen’s voice, steady and unyielding, broke the silence again. "I will never compromise with filth the way you did. I won’t hesitate. I won’t let another Thierry fall because of inaction."

With that, he turned and left, leaving Frederick alone in the suffocating quiet of his office.

...

As Cohen stepped outside, the sunlight bathed him in warmth. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to steady himself.

In his heart, he sent a silent prayer. ’Please... let HER come back to us.’

"May the stars guide your way," he whispered softly, his voice carrying a faint but unyielding hope.

As Lyra was dragged into the swirling vortex of the interdimensional passage, she immediately felt the chaotic distortion of time and space.

The tunnel’s shimmering barriers pulsed with lethal energy, dangerous even to glance at too long.

Here, even the Overarching’s overwhelming dominance over superpowers seemed significantly curtailed by the unstable domain.

Unwavering, Lyra called out, "Phelixes."

He answered instantly, his voice steady despite the chaos. "I’m ready."

With a nod, Lyra summoned a radiant green light, forming a protective energy that enveloped them both.

Phelixes gripped the searing chain with both hands, his flesh burning and charring under its heat.

The verdant glow of Lyra’s power healed his wounds over and over, enabling him to endure the cycle of agony and recovery until he finally nullified the superpower coursing through the chain.

"Sis, I did it!" Phelixes exclaimed, a triumphant grin on his face before he collapsed from sheer exhaustion.

Lyra caught him effortlessly, cradling his unconscious form as she leaped from the chaotic corridor into the unknown.