Interstellar: Return of the Villain
Chapter 339: Anti-Hero

Chapter 339: Anti-Hero

Iskandor’s chest collapsed inward, forming a swirling black vortex that sent the room into chaos.

In an instant, the desk in front of him, scattered documents, and even a nearby guard were sucked into the vortex.

Just then, a flash of green light enveloped Iskandor, shielding him temporarily from the void’s crushing pull.

"Pfft!" Iskandor spat out thick, crimson blood, staining his silver hair and softening his cold, imperious visage with a fleeting hint of vulnerability.

His icy blue eyes locked onto Lyra, and with a ragged voice, he said, "I’ll teleport you back to Elden Prime... first..."

With trembling hands, he opened a dimensional corridor. "Go... now."

Lyra hesitated only a moment before stepping through the portal.

Three seconds later, Iskandor collapsed to one knee. The towering pillar of the Empire had fallen, and the room erupted into disarray.

...

When Lyra emerged on Elden Prime’s Central City, she stepped directly into a chaotic battlefield.

Despite the frenzy, humanity was clearly gaining ground, aided by the cutting-edge weaponry of the Everglow.

Unfazed by the ongoing skirmishes, Lyra strode with purpose toward the Alliance Military Council Headquarters. Her boots echoed sharply against the polished floors, each step radiating authority.

Workers scrambling through the hallways instinctively cleared a path for her. Soldiers snapped to attention, saluting as she passed. None dared to meet her eyes.

Her presence was palpable—like a blade slicing through the air, edged with blood and unyielding resolve.

When she entered the command conference room, the tense air thickened into something suffocating.

The gathered leaders turned toward her, startled by her abrupt arrival. Panic erupted.

"Why are you back so soon?" Valeria demanded, her voice tight with worry. "Did something happen to the evacuation force?"

Lyra crossed to the water dispenser, filled a glass, and drained it in a single motion before answering. "Iskandor succumbed to the black hole’s power. With his last strength, he sent me back. Phelixes, the incarnation of the black hole, has lost control. We can’t stop him. Snowfall is gone—dust in the void. Begin organizing the evacuation of every planetary population. Now."

A stunned silence followed.

The Council members, unaware of Snowfall’s annihilation due to the loss of its orbital satellites, struggled to process her words.

Frederick activated the star map to confirm. When the map displayed Snowfall’s absence, a chill swept through the room.

"Even you couldn’t stop it?" an elderly general demanded, his voice tinged with both disbelief and dread.

All eyes fixed on Lyra, seeking reassurance, a plan, or even the faintest glimmer of hope.

Her expression remained unreadable as she delivered the blunt truth. "I couldn’t."

The room erupted into chaos. Desperation took hold as voices clashed, layering panic on top of panic.

"Are we really looking at interstellar exile?"

"You said we needed to fight back! Now what?!"

"That’s right! Rear Admiral Shedd, do something!"

Lyra’s brows furrowed slightly, her patience thinning. Her voice cut through the commotion like a blade. "I told you to fight while preparing for evacuation. Did you think I was bluffing?"

The room quieted enough for her to continue, her tone sharper now. "There is no guaranteed victory here. I never promised one. I’m just a Supreme Peculiar, far from the peak of my strength. How do you expect me to take on the black hole itself?"

Her voice dropped lower, colder. "If you still haven’t started making preparations to evacuate, then you’ve doomed yourselves."

Ronin, his frustration boiling over, slammed his fist against the table. "Easy for you to say! Do you have any idea how much preparation interstellar migration requires? How long it’ll take to find a habitable planet?"

He leaned forward, his anger palpable. "And what about the Alliance? How can you expect us to abandon everything we’ve built? You’re just—"

His accusation faltered under Lyra’s piercing gaze. Her eyes, like shards of ice, silenced him before he could finish.

When she spoke, her tone was cutting. "You claim to care about the Alliance, but all you’re truly afraid of is losing your power and wealth. Don’t try to disguise your selfishness as noble concern."

Of course, no one dared to admit their greed outright.

"Stop slandering us!"

"We’re only thinking about the future of the Alliance!"

Lyra’s response to their protests was calm yet piercing.

"Then leave. If you want to stay and die, that’s your choice. But I won’t stay here with you—and I’m sure others feel the same."

Her words struck like a thunderbolt, leaving the senior officials bristling with indignation.

"Rear Admiral Shedd, what are you implying? Are you abandoning your post?"

"You’re a soldier—and the only one who can fight the Stellar Devourers. You have a responsibility to protect us!"

"How can you betray the people of the Alliance and the faith we’ve placed in you?"

But guilt-tripping and appeals to duty had no effect on Lyra. She was neither a savior nor a martyr. The idea of sacrificing herself for the greater good held no appeal.

Lyra had always leaned toward the role of the anti-hero—unflinching in her pragmatism and unapologetic in her actions. She didn’t need to be loved or idolized; she would do what was necessary, regardless of how it was perceived.

Amid the rising tension, Frederick’s commanding voice cut through the room like a blade. "Quiet!"

The clamor ceased as the council members grudgingly obeyed, swallowing their anger in the face of his authority.

Frederick fixed Lyra with a measured, unyielding gaze. "Rear Admiral Shedd," he said, his tone firm. "The weapons used by the Legion of Everglow—if mass-produced, they could allow other units to fight the Stellar Devourers, correct?"

His words reignited the room with frantic energy.

"Yes! If every unit had access to those weapons, the Stellar Devourers wouldn’t stand a chance!"

"Rear Admiral Shedd, hand over the schematics immediately!"

Lyra remained unfazed. "The schematics aren’t with me," she said flatly.

For a brief moment, silence returned to the room. Then came the barrage—persuasion, threats, and veiled offers.

"This is no time to be selfish, Rear Admiral. Humanity’s survival is at stake!"

"If you provide the designs, the military will ensure you’re credited for your contributions."

"With weapons like these, you could go down in history as humanity’s savior!"

But Lyra’s expression didn’t so much as flicker. "Even if the weapons were mass-produced, no one else would be able to use them," she replied coolly.

Her statement was met with disbelief. The council members dismissed it as an excuse, and their accusations grew harsher.

Still, Lyra remained indifferent. She had no intention of continuing a futile argument. These officials clearly had no real plans for evacuation, and staying here was a waste of her time. Without another word, she turned on her heel and headed for the door.

Just as she reached it, Frederick’s voice rang out behind her.

"Rear Admiral Shedd, are you truly going to defy us and act on your own?"

His tone was calm but carried a distinct undercurrent of threat.

The room fell silent again, its occupants staring at Lyra with a mixture of anger, resentment, and desperation.

Lyra paused, turning her head just enough for her voice to carry. The light from the hallway cast her figure into sharp relief, her long braid swaying slightly like a shadow drawn by the wind.

"From the very beginning," she said, her tone razor-sharp, "it was you who pushed me into a corner. If things have come to this, you’ve only yourselves to blame."

She hadn’t initially intended to withhold the weapon designs. But experience had taught her not to trust the Alliance’s leadership.

If she handed over her work, they would discard her the moment she ceased to be useful. Her decision wasn’t born of selfishness—it was survival.

Ignoring the bitter expressions in the room, Lyra walked out without a backward glance.

...

With the Legion of Everglow’s advanced weaponry and Lyra’s leadership, Elden Prime held strong—for now. But the grim reality played out across satellite feeds.

Phelixes, now fused with the largest black hole yet, was rapidly closing in on the planet.

No, "closing in" wasn’t the right phrase. Phelixes was devouring everything between himself and Elden Prime, erasing time, space, and every obstacle in his path.

Following the destruction of Snowfall, Planet Nagano had also fallen, consumed entirely by the black void.

Fleets of ships carrying the last survivors of these ravaged worlds now converged on Elden Prime, the final refuge in a galaxy on the brink of collapse.