Ch. 231..235: Interstellar_ Return of the Villain Chapter 231-235

Chapter 231: Into the Dream

In the darkened forest, an uneasy quiet had settled, as every creature seemed to sense the impending storm.

Humidity hung thickly in the air, stifling and dense, like the forest itself was holding its breath.

Lyra moved like a shadowed predator, leaping silently from branch to branch.

She was close now, but a sharp, metallic scent began to fill the air—fresh blood.

Fifteen slung over her shoulder, gasped as each jolt sent pain rippling through her body, yet she managed a ragged laugh. "Too late—they’re all dead."

Fifteen’s hand clawed into Lyra’s arm, leaving bloody smears across her skin.

Ignoring the taunt, Lyra pushed aside a thick wall of branches, and what she saw next made her pause.

"Got her, did you?" Valeria’s voice broke through the silence.

Standing in the middle of a battlefield painted in blood, the Admiral’s pristine white uniform and the casual cigarette between her fingers made her seem unaffected by the carnage around her.

Bodies—enemy and ally alike—were strewn across the mud-soaked ground, spattering the leaves and trees in dark crimson.

Judging from the scraps of fabric and scattered weapons, it was clear that most of these corpses were Peculiars from Fifteen’s own ranks.

Fifteen’s face twisted in shock and horror. "Impossible! These were level-five and higher... some even level-nine Peculiars!"

Valeria strode forward, her boots sinking slightly in the bloody mire. She took a long drag from her cigarette, exhaling smoke as her eyes settled on Fifteen with an amused glint.

"Guess you thought I was an easy target," she chuckled darkly.

That fact alone was one the enemy had gravely underestimated.

This was an Admiral who had clawed her way up through the ranks over decades, tested by nearly seventy years of unrelenting war. She hadn’t ordered Lyra to go ahead without calculating every possible risk.

The bones of the enemies who had underestimated her could fill a battlefield.

Nearby, Ryan clutched his arm, still bleeding, but his expression held only relief.

When the enemy had split their forces to surround and conquer them, he’d thought they were as good as gone. But seeing Valeria’s power in action was nothing short of awe-inspiring. ’So this is what an Admiral really is,’ he thought to himself.

"Time to move," Valeria commanded, grinding her cigarette out into a puddle of blood.

Turning to face Fifteen, she raised her hand and, with a swift motion, trapped the woman in a tight bubble of compressed air.

Valeria leaned in close, her voice sharp and ominous. "You’re about to see just how far I can go if you step out of line. Behave, and maybe I’ll let you walk away in one piece."

The air inside the bubble grew thinner, and Fifteen’s body started to sag, her fingers curling in on themselves as she tried to fight against the invisible walls.

Anger and humiliation twisted her face as she forced out, "I... understand."

With tracking systems active, Lyra and Valeria were ready to cross-check every word that left Fifteen’s mouth, each one instantly verifiable.

Lying wouldn’t buy her any time—this was her only chance to cooperate if she wanted to live.

As they moved deeper into enemy territory, a steady drizzle began to fall, blanketing the forest with a soft, persistent rhythm.

The rain wasn’t heavy, but it was unyielding, casting a misty veil over the dense canopy. Each drop gathered on leaves and branches until, fat and heavy, they splashed to the ground below.

The squad advanced in a V-formation, Lyra at the front, eyes sharp and senses heightened, while Valeria kept watch from the rear, her stance as vigilant as ever.

The Everlongest Mountains loomed closer, their main ridge rising like a silent giant at 1,821 meters. Sheer cliffs and steep slopes presented a foreboding barrier as they approached.

When they reached the edge of a towering precipice, Fifteen halted abruptly, turning to the team with a sly grin. "The entrance is here."

Valeria’s gaze swept across the cliffside. "Optical camouflage, I presume?" she asked, knowing these cloaking systems worked by bending light to give the illusion of empty space.

"And how do we deactivate it?" she pressed.

"No fancy switch or button," Fifteen sneered. "You just walk right in."

The team exchanged wary glances, memories of past missions flaring up—especially that one mission on Macraite’s second satellite, where "just walking in" had led to near disaster.

Marty’s jaw clenched at the thought, his expression grim.

Without a word, Valeria summoned a dense sphere of compressed air in her hand and launched it toward the cliff.

It shot through, detonating inside a hollow space, disrupting the cloaking device and exposing a massive opening in the rock.

The echo of the explosion confirmed a cavernous interior, and the once-hidden entrance gaped openly, revealing a dark corridor burrowing deep into the mountain.

A soldier muttered, "Did they all evacuate or something?"

Keeping her expression steely, Valeria scanned the corridor’s depths, cautiously releasing another air bubble inside to probe for hidden traps.

When nothing reacted, she turned to the team. "I’ll go first. Squad No. 7, watch the rear. No mistakes."

She strode inside, and one by one, the soldiers followed.

Normally, a mission would involve splitting up to cover ground faster, but in these unknown conditions, it was a risk Valeria wasn’t willing to take.

The last soldier had barely crossed the threshold when the entrance shimmered, sealing them in.

Fifteen took the lead again, her voice carrying a mocking edge. "Even if you reach them, those cadets are already lost. They’re broken, each one of them." Her tone was laced with contempt, her gaze taunting. "Did you think we were just lucky enough to develop dual powers? Guess again."

She scanned the Special Force soldiers with a calculating glint in her eyes, one that even the most hardened among them found unsettling. "HE has an eye for talent, and your own abilities look ripe for harvesting."

A shiver of dread settled over the squad as realization dawned. The missing cadets weren’t just captives—they’d been reduced to experiments, a mere means to an end.

Valeria’s eyes narrowed, her voice cutting through the silence. "Stay alert. Every one of you."

But Fifteen only laughed, her gaze lingering on Valeria. "So many secrets, Admiral. What a shame they’re kept from your team."

Lyra glanced at Valeria, catching a new hardness in her expression. Any warmth in her gaze had vanished, leaving her face an unreadable mask.

Guided by Fifteen’s taunting laughter echoing down the hall, the team pressed forward until, finally, they found the missing cadets.

Row upon row of "coffins" lined the walls, each holding a young recruit, thin and frail in medical gowns.

Their faces were gaunt and hollow, cheeks sunken, skin sickly pale with a faint blue hue.

Their arms, covered in scars and puncture marks, spoke of endless experimentation.

Some of them had strange, tumor-like growths; others’ skin was raw and ulcerated, wounds still oozing. They were nothing more than disposable resources.

A few of the cadets, the most recently captured, managed weak smiles upon seeing their rescuers. But the majority simply stared ahead, their expressions blank, devoid of any spark.

Even the seasoned Special Force soldiers, who’d seen their share of brutality, felt a pang of sorrow and anger at the sight.

The stillness was deafening—no alarms, no guards, no traps.

Valeria made a swift call. "We’re getting them out. Now. No delays."

Lyra kept her senses sharp, casting wary glances around as they moved.

When she struck through a heavy door with her blade, a faint tingling numbed her hand from the impact. She barely noticed, focused solely on freeing the cadets.

They helped each weakened recruit out of the cells, each one needing to lean on a soldier for support.

The last cadet, a student from EPMA, leaned heavily on Lyra as she supported him to his feet. His gaze was faint but grateful, his voice so soft it was barely a whisper.

"Thank you," he murmured, a hint of life flickering in his eyes.

Lyra’s senses prickled with an uneasy feeling, and in a swift, instinctive motion, she unleashed countless strands of sharp light that exploded outward in all directions.

Her teammates barely managed to jump back. They were startled and alarmed, narrowly avoiding the razor-like beams.

Valeria looked at her with a frown, voice sharp with concern. "Lyra, what’s going on?"

"Something’s off," Lyra replied, her tone as cold as ice.

SCHKT!

Before anyone could react, one of Lyra’s light strands plunged into Valeria’s chest.

"Lyra! What are you—?" Ryan’s horrified shout cut through the chaos, but he didn’t get the chance to finish.

Another flash of green light sliced through him, splitting him in half.

Soldiers scattered, diving for cover, but the deadly web of beams spread relentlessly, cutting them down one by one.

In the midst of the destruction, Fifteen stared at Lyra from within her containment bubble, her face a mask of shock and terror. "You’re insane! You killed your whole team!"

"Fifteen, right?" Lyra’s voice dripped with contempt, her eyes gleaming with something far darker than malice.

"What...?" Fifteen’s voice faltered as she stared into Lyra’s eyes, dread curling in her stomach.

A cold realization dawned: Lyra shouldn’t have known her name.

A chill swept over Fifteen as she understood—someone had tampered with Lyra’s mind, planting that knowledge there.

B She looked around, and the world seemed to waver and blur at the edges, like a mirage breaking apart.

"You pulled me into this dream, didn’t you?" Lyra’s tone was filled with dark amusement.

The false reality around them began to ripple and dissolve as she unleashed waves of psychokinetic energy, pushing back against the dream’s fabric.

The walls cracked, the sky trembled, and, in a final shudder, the illusion shattered.

Back in the real world, Fifteen immediately activated her cloaking powers, hoping to flee. But she barely took a step before Lyra’s blade pierced her, swift and unyielding.

Lyra twisted the sword mercilessly, and Fifteen crumpled to the ground, her body spilling blood and gore as her life drained away.

Lyra crouched, dipping a finger into the blood.

A faint chemical odor confirmed her suspicion—a sleeping agent.

They’d likely drugged Fifteen, using blood contact to pull Lyra into the dreamscape.

But there wasn’t time to dwell on it now. Brushing off the residue, Lyra turned her attention back to the mission. She was at the cliffside entrance once more, back in reality.

Without missing a beat, she charged into the enemy’s base.

Her mind was focused, all senses heightened as she navigated the shadowed tunnel.

Around the first bend, her foot splashed in a fresh pool of blood, and she glanced down to see the uniformed body of one of her fallen teammates.

Ignoring the body, Lyra sprinted ahead, every muscle alive with purpose.

From deeper in the passageway came hurried footsteps, followed by labored breathing.

Lyra rounded the corner to see a Peculiar with beast-like features, blood-streaked and panting, carrying two bodies over his shoulders—one under each arm.

It was Marty. His eyes brightened with desperate hope the second he spotted her. "Ma’am! Help us!"

Lyra immediately conjured a healing orb and threw it toward him, but a sudden flash of movement caught her eye.

A gleaming blade sliced through the air, cutting into Marty’s back with brutal precision.

SHHK!

Marty fell, severed in two by the unexpected attack, his dying gaze still filled with the urgency to save his teammates.

Lyra’s face remained expressionless, her lips set in a hard line.

She redirected the healing energy into a lethal spear of light and hurled it down the corridor.

Leaping over Marty’s body, she reached the figure in black who had ambushed him and, in one fluid motion, beheaded them.

Only then did she assess the situation.

The two people Marty had been trying to save were Ryan and Bruce.

Bruce lay dead, severed at the waist, his face contorted in pain. Ryan, missing both legs below the knees, was clinging to life.

Lyra quickly pressed her hands against his stumps, staunching the bleeding.

Ryan’s face twisted with anguish as he stared at Marty’s lifeless body. "Stupid kid...if he hadn’t tried to save us, he’d still be alive."

Lyra glanced at the shadows stretching down the corridor, her mind already focusing on what was next. "Where’s everyone else?"

Ryan’s voice cracked. "Everyone...everyone except Admiral Valeria...they’re all dead." His eyes glistened with unshed tears as he struggled to look at her. "There are a dozen more level-nine Peculiars. We already sent a distress signal. Don’t go, Lyra, it’s suicide!"

But Lyra didn’t answer. She rose to her feet, her grip tightening around her blade.

Her silhouette disappeared into the darkness of the corridor, determination radiating from every step as she pressed forward, unyielding.

Chapter 232: A True Master

Lyra bolted into the lab, bracing herself to find the worst—she was sure she was too late, her allies likely wiped out.

But to her surprise, Valeria was still on her feet, though only just.

Valeria’s once-spotless white uniform was soaked with dark red stains, her blood and her enemies’ mingling together.

Her graying hair had come undone, and she wavered as she fought, using sharp, efficient movements to fend off her attackers.

Then, a shadow lunged out of the darkness, driving a blade deep into her back.

Valeria staggered, but without hesitation, she turned, summoning her superpower.

Her assailant had barely a second to gasp before his body exploded from the inside, leaving nothing but a smear of flesh and bone.

The attack and blood loss had pushed Valeria to her limit, and she dropped to one knee, her breaths coming in painful gasps.

Sensing their chance, a cluster of Peculiars charged forward.

Just then, a flash of steel cut through the room. In a blink, one of the attackers’ heads dropped to the floor. The rest immediately recoiled, suddenly hesitant.

Lyra dashed to Valeria’s side and helped her back toward the exit. She quickly applied a healing ability to Valeria’s wounds, muttering, "Are you all right, ma’am?"

Valeria gave her a hard look, irritation flashing across her face. "Didn’t I tell you all to retreat?"

Lyra’s gaze shifted to the body lying just beyond them. Rowena was there, lying lifeless on the floor.

"Only Ryan made it out," Lyra said, her voice barely audible.

A dark shadow crossed Valeria’s face. "Figures," she muttered. "With so many level-nine elites here... even the Special Force was just fodder."

Lyra had lost valuable minutes getting trapped in a skirmish at the entrance. It had only taken five minutes to lose the entire Special Force.

There was no point wondering if she could have changed things—regret was pointless. There was only forward.

Summoning a pair of blades, she turned back to Valeria. "Ma’am, cover me with long-range support."

Without waiting for a reply, Lyra charged into the thick of the fight.

Her opponents looked young, each wielding dual superpowers, but their eyes were disturbingly vacant, their moves unnaturally coordinated, like puppets on strings.

They had dangerous abilities but seemed weaker than typical level-nine Peculiars in sheer physicality.

Lyra tore through them effortlessly. With every swing, she felled another one. She was halfway through decapitating yet another when she noticed something strange—a small number, "33," tattooed on the back of the enemy’s neck.

Lyra thought to herself, ’Something isn’t adding up. How was this level of resistance enough to nearly kill Valeria?’

"Watch out!" Valeria’s voice cut through Lyra’s thoughts. She threw up a barrier of compressed air just in time to block an oncoming strike.

Lyra countered from behind the shield, however, her sword sliced through nothing but air.

A gust of wind from behind made her spin, and before she could react, a powerful blow slammed into her stomach, sending her hurtling across the room.

Lyra activated a light shield just in time, deflecting the follow-up hit, and she flipped mid-air to land on her feet. Her knees buckled briefly, but she caught herself.

Suddenly, a tear in space ripped open right behind her. Sensing it, Lyra glanced back.

Her gaze sharpened as she leapt up. She vaulted over the spatial rift, her sword ready to strike.

Then, however, her blade hit an invisible wall.

Standing before her was a man, unlike any she’d encountered.

He wielded a rare trio of superpowers: invisibility, spatial manipulation, and immense physical strength—all at level nine. His psychokinetic energy was so intense, even Valeria had struggled to withstand him.

As he fully emerged, he revealed himself to be a calm, unyielding figure with a dangerous gleam in his eyes.

"Lyra, I’ve heard of you," he said, his voice as cold as steel.

Lyra gripped her sword tighter, breathing heavily. "A lot of people have," she replied coolly. There was no doubt—this was her strongest opponent yet.

A faint, mirthless smile flickered across his face. "I’m going to defeat you."

With that, his form dissolved, melting into the darkness like smoke.

Lyra stood still, every sense on high alert.

A whisper of movement sounded behind her, and she whirled just in time to catch him sliding out of the shadows, her eyes tracking him as he moved.

She sidestepped, only for him to vanish again, sinking back into the darkness.

The walls of space around her began closing in, pressing from every direction, threatening to crush her.

With relentless psychokinetic force, the man unleashed a barrage of attacks. He moved with such blinding speed that Lyra found herself barely able to dodge, her each motion a desperate attempt to keep up.

Around her, spatial rifts shredded the lab, swallowing every piece of equipment one by one, leaving nothing but a barren shell of the room.

Cornered, Lyra felt the walls of space closing in, narrowing her options with every step.

Across the room, Valeria clenched her fists, her eyes flashing with frustration.

The man’s stealth left her powerless; as long as he remained cloaked in shadows, she couldn’t touch him.

Then, a sudden, blinding green light exploded across the lab, flooding the vast room and banishing every shadow. The man’s figure became starkly visible, his hiding places wiped out along with the lab equipment.

Finally, Valeria saw what Lyra had already suspected—his invisibility was nothing more than shadow manipulation.

Seizing the moment, Valeria attacked without a second’s delay.

The man twisted space, evading her strike, but in doing so, he lost sight of Lyra.

Panic flared in his eyes as he sensed the danger too late—a fist, raw with power, struck him from behind.

He turned, attempting to block it, but Lyra’s strength broke through, sending him flying across the room until he slammed into the wall, visibly dazed.

He was stunned that Lyra possessed such sheer force, independent of any superpower boost.

Shaken but determined, he created another spatial tear, tearing the room apart to put distance between himself and Lyra. But Valeria clenched her fists, channeling her energy into a dense wave of air that sealed the tear.

"Now!" she shouted, her voice urgent and commanding.

Lyra moved, a blur of speed, her blade cutting through the air. He swung a fist in defense, but she sidestepped effortlessly, gliding behind him.

In one smooth motion, her sword sliced across his throat, silencing him in an instant.

As she looked around, the lab was a wreck—walls and machines reduced to rubble, as if the room had been made of paper.

Lyra made her way back to Valeria. "Let’s get out of here..."

But a slow, mocking clap broke the silence. From a concealed doorway, Westros stepped into view, eyes glinting with twisted admiration. "Well done, Lyra. You keep exceeding expectations."

Beside him stood an old man, frail but wrapped in dark robes, emanating a terrifying, oppressive energy. The air itself seemed to vibrate around him, waves of dark power rippling out like a living force.

Valeria’s face went pale as she moved protectively in front of Lyra. "A Supreme... Run, Lyra!" she cried, her voice sharp with urgency.

A Supreme Peculiar? The words barely had time to register when Valeria suddenly collapsed, her body seized by tremors, as if caught in a hellish nightmare.

She mumbled incoherently, trapped in some unseen terror.

The old man gazed down at her, almost pitying. "I could have let her go peacefully, in her sleep," he murmured. "But I don’t leave loose ends."

With a flick of his finger, the air around Lyra thickened, filled with razor-sharp wind blades whipping toward her like a lethal storm.

The superpower particles crackled, each wave threatening to crush her.

Lyra’s reflexes took over; she summoned her superpower, casting a glowing shield of light.

Her healing energy shimmered bright green, expanding around her and Valeria just in time as the wind blades struck.

The shield deflected most of the attack, sustaining Valeria for a few precious seconds.

Westros’ eyes lit up, a mix of fascination and excitement flashing across his face.

For Lyra, those three seconds felt like eternity. Her powers drained rapidly, and she collapsed to her knees, utterly spent.

Valeria lay beside her, still trapped in a nightmarish daze.

Gritting her teeth, Lyra reached into her pack and pulled out a rare plant extract. It was a superpower-restoring potion, and she swallowed it in one gulp.

Westros watched with mild amusement. "Surprising, really," he remarked, eyebrow raised. "Risking your life for someone else—doesn’t seem like your style."

Lyra shot him a defiant look. "Are you going to kill me?" she asked, her voice unwavering.

Westros didn’t miss a beat. "Of course not."

"Then that’s all that matters," she replied.

In that instant, a powerful wave of psychokinetic energy exploded, catching the old man off-guard and forcing him back, his expression stunned.

By the time he looked up again, Lyra and Valeria had vanished, already far beyond the shattered remains of the lab.

Westros gave a sly, almost affectionate smile and nudged the old man beside him. "Well, what are you waiting for? After them."

A flicker of fear crossed the old man’s eyes before he bolted in pursuit.

Behind Lyra, a storm of roaring wind rose, thundering like a thousand horses bearing down on her. She pushed herself to the limit, legs burning and muscles numb from exhaustion.

The exit was so close, but just as it came into view, a violent gust ripped her off her feet, tearing Valeria from her grip and hurling her away.

Panic flooded Lyra, her mind racing for any solution. Just then, a withered hand gripped her arm, yanking her out of the cyclone, and she saw Valeria being dragged to safety as well.

"You did well, young one." Reinforcements had finally arrived.

Elden Prime had indeed sent its own Supreme to stand guard—something Lyra had gambled on when she refused to leave Valeria behind.

A white-bearded elder now stood between her and their attacker, his face fierce.

He gave a scoffing laugh as he faced the man in black. "A Supreme of the Empire?" he boomed, his voice carrying like a storm. "Violating our alliance terms? You won’t be leaving Elden Prime in one piece!"

Just then, another powerful figure dropped from the sky, landing with enough force to crack the ground beneath him.

A tall, muscular man with a hardened expression, he shot the elder a fierce look. "Enough talk, Lynn. Let’s finish this."

With no further words, the three of them collided in a clash of overwhelming power.

Their attacks churned the very air, and across the entire planet, Peculiars felt the surge and thinning of superpower particles, as if a storm was sweeping through the atmosphere itself. Some even lost their abilities mid-battle as the particles dispersed around them.

Standing on the edge of the battle, Lyra struggled to control her own powers as they spiraled wildly.

She now understood why level-nine Peculiars rarely fought openly—such battles had the potential to disrupt the very fabric of the world.

In Alliance territory, Lynn and his ally fought with caution, containing the force of their strikes to minimize the damage.

Meanwhile, the Supreme was obviously trying not to damage the Everlongest Mountains. He carefully limited his destruction to avoid collateral damage in the areas.

After securing Valeria in a safe place, Lyra quickly drank another energy-restoring extract and sprinted back to the lab.

Chapter 233: The Culprit

Inside the lab, silence reigned.

The remaining level-nine Peculiars stood in Lyra’s way, their eyes blank yet filled with an eerie determination.

Despite the brutality they’d just witnessed, they threw themselves forward without hesitation, almost as if offering themselves up to buy Westros more time.

Lyra wasn’t in the mood for long fights. With a flick of her hand, a wave of ice spread from her feet, freezing the Peculiars in place for a crucial three seconds.

Three seconds was all she needed.

The sounds of combat were swift and brutal. By the time she moved on, the lab floor was littered with frozen limbs and lifeless bodies.

At the lab’s core, Westros was wrapping up his work. Holding his hand in a claw-like shape, he summoned an unnatural pull, and the experimental subjects inside glass chambers convulsed.

One by one, Crystal Cores tore from their foreheads, drawn into a dark, swirling void in his palm.

Before he could finish, a blade flashed toward him.

With a casual gesture, Westros summoned a dark vortex to absorb the attack, but Lyra dodged around it, striking his right shoulder squarely.

What she saw next made her blood run cold. The injury, nearly severing his arm, didn’t bleed. Instead, dark threads of energy snaked out, weaving the torn flesh back together until it looked untouched.

If not for his torn clothing, Lyra might have thought the wound had never happened.

Westros adjusted his tattered sleeve, looking at her with a mixture of amusement and indulgence. "Always diving in headfirst, aren’t you?"

Lyra took a step back, her grip tightening as the realization hit her—he wasn’t human.

Then, from behind him, an immense pull began to emanate, so intense it felt as though it could tear apart everything around it.

This wasn’t just some pocket dimension, as she’d previously assumed. It was a black hole, a ravenous void, consuming everything in its reach.

The force grew stronger, dragging Lyra toward it.

The air felt heavy, her breaths shallow, and her body like lead. Desperate, Lyra summoned her superpower, casting a shield of deep emerald energy toward the void, giving her just enough time to break free from its pull.

But the respite didn’t last. Within seconds, the shield shattered, splintering like glass, and the black hole’s force came roaring back, stronger than ever.

Seeing Lyra’s shock, Westros chuckled darkly. "What a shame. If you were just a bit stronger, maybe you’d be able to stop me."

Lyra planted her sword into the ground, bracing herself against the pull of the black hole, her gaze hardening. "You’re not the real Westros."

The Westros she’d faced before had backed down, retreating without hesitation.

"Oh, I am," he replied, his smirk widening. "The one you encountered earlier was a digital projection, nothing more." In an instant, he was standing inches from her, his hand pressing possessively against the back of her neck, close enough to whisper. "I came here in person... just for you."

Lyra’s head was forced back, her eyes drawn to the churning void behind him.

"What ARE you, really? Are you even... biological?" she demanded, a flash of confusion cutting through her voice.

For the first time, the reality around her felt disturbingly surreal.

She’d encountered powerful beasts, monstrous entities from far-flung worlds, but none with the intelligence or precision of this creature.

Westros was neither human nor beast. And yet, the way Valeria had reacted to his presence suggested that the higher-ups in the Alliance were well aware of him—just that the truth had never reached the public.

"Biological?" Westros glanced at his earlier wound, then laughed, shaking his head. "Where do you see anything ’biological’ about me?"

His tone took on a smooth, eerie calm. "This universe is matter. But we... we are disruptors, dominators, creators. We stand beyond its limitations."

What would have sounded like insane arrogance from anyone else felt like undeniable fact coming from him, as though he truly were a god towering above reality itself.

To Lyra, his words defied all reason, a riddle wrapped in unfathomable power.

Westros leaned close, his grip unyielding as he twisted her gaze back to the black hole, his voice a low, dangerous whisper. "I came here to take you with me. Look at it. I have power beyond your wildest imagin—"

A brief lapse in his focus, and Lyra seized the opportunity.

She summoned a blade of green energy and drove it backward, straight into his torso, wrenching herself free as he staggered back in shock.

The black hole dissolved instantly, and air flooded the room as she dropped to her knees, gasping.

Westros clutched his side, dark misty fluid seeping from his wound as his face contorted with a mix of anger and disbelief. "Your power... it’s evolved beyond recognition..."

"Looks like it’s effective against you," she retorted, her hands glowing as she formed another mass of vibrant green energy, molding it into a threatening shape as she advanced.

At that moment, two sharp bursts of air sounded.

A pair of mechas—a towering one, and a smaller, sleeker model—blocked Lyra’s path, positioning themselves to shield Westros.

"Cough..." Westros pressed his wound, his face twisting in frustration. "One day... you WILL belong to us."

The taller mecha hoisted him up, beginning to escort him out.

Lyra turned to find herself face-to-face with the smaller macha, cutting off her pursuit.

With a swift motion, she morphed Schedar into a long staff, ready to engage.

The lab was cramped, but her movements were swift and fluid, her strikes raining down with fierce precision.

In moments, Lyra’d forced her opponent to the ground. Then, twisting her weapon again, Lyra transformed Schedar into a ring, snapping it shut around the mecha’s midsection like an iron cage.

Trapped, the pilot inside fired a barrage of lasers and particle blasts, thrashing in a desperate attempt to break free. But Lyra advanced unflinchingly, gripping one of the mecha’s arms and slamming it against the wall.

"Stop struggling," she muttered, eyes narrowing. "I know it’s you."

She leaned in, lowering her voice. "Isadora."

The moment she said the name, the struggling ceased.

Even through the mecha’s thick armor, Lyra could feel the shock ripple through its pilot.

"How... how did you know?" a voice stammered from inside.

The faceplate slid open, revealing Isadora’s striking, proud features. But her usual air of arrogance was gone, replaced by something cold, deadly—a hardened warrior Lyra had never seen before.

The old, headstrong Isadora was no more, her gaze now razor-sharp, intense, and utterly focused.

Lyra’s voice remained steady as she confronted Isadora. "There were plenty of reasons to suspect you. For one, both times I was attacked in my dreams, it happened after I dined with the Calvins. Then there’s the way your combat style felt... familiar."

She paused, her gaze piercing. "And at the scene of Dr. Brian’s murder, the superpower particles left behind? They belonged to you."

Isadora’s eyes widened, a look of shock breaking through her icy composure. "You suspected us all along?"

Lyra allowed herself a small, knowing smile. "Yes. But back then, I didn’t understand WHY."

Now, though, it was clear: the Calvin family wasn’t just implicated—they were at the heart of it all, intricately tied to Westros from the very start.

Isadora’s mouth twisted into a bitter smile. "That old fool thought he could manipulate you with all that talk of ’familial loyalty.’ He never realized his precious scheme was nothing but a joke to you."

"Something like that."

Isadora’s expression contorted with fury, a fire of envy and desperation flashing in her eyes. "But WHY YOU? Why do they treat you like you’re something special?" Even bound as she was, she leaned forward, her glare searing. "And me? They use me, dispose of me. Daytime, I’m dressed up for their events; at night, I’m in this damned suit, sent out to kill for them!"

Her voice shook with venom. "Even then, I’m nothing to them, just a useless pawn. And you... you’re all anyone cares about. Why?"

With a sudden, desperate burst of energy, Isadora’s mecha snapped apart. Her slender form slipped through the weakened rings holding her, and she lunged at Lyra, raw anger on her face.

But without the armor of her mecha, she was defenseless.

Lyra sidestepped easily, her own power and skill far surpassing Isadora’s. She struck with precision, her blade plunging into Isadora’s chest and silencing her with a single, final blow.

With a calm, steady hand, Lyra withdrew her blade, her gaze unwavering. "If that’s how you felt," she said quietly, "then why did you ever try to compete with me?"

Isadora’s body shuddered, her eyes fixing on the harsh, white ceiling light above. "B-because... there’s no escaping it..." Her voice faded, her gaze unfocusing as her eyes drifted shut.

A moment later, footsteps echoed in the hallway. Another mecha approached, pausing at the doorway before entering.

As its shell peeled away, Robin stepped out.

"You’re a bit late," Lyra said, her voice unshaken, though with a hint of reproach.

Robin’s typically composed face held a strange detachment, a glint of irony flashing in his eyes. "Not that it matters. She and I never really had a connection."

He turned to face Lyra, the irony in his tone sharpened. "If anything, I’d say you and I have more in common."

Lyra’s brow furrowed, a shadow of confusion crossing her face. "What are you talking about?"

Robin tapped his head, indicating his jet-black hair. "Black hair, lightning powers... never wondered why?"

The realization hit Lyra like a shockwave. Her pupils widened sharply as the pieces slid into place.

 

 

Chapter 234: The Truth

Chapter 234: The Truth

The emergence of superpowers in humans was heavily influenced by their genetic background. Take the Whyte family, for example: they were deeply rooted in military tradition, with most members wielding gravity-based abilities, each varying in talent.

On the flip side, the Shedd family had a rich history of lightning powers. While gravity powers were a rare gem, lightning abilities were more common, so Lyra had never doubted Robin’s true identity.

Unlike Isadora, Robin wasn’t hostile towards her at all. Instead, he seemed eager to show her the most hidden corners of the base.

As they strolled down the dimly lit corridor, they eventually reached the end, where rough, grayish-white rock walls bore the marks of mechanical arms, creating the impression that they had burrowed deep into the earth.

"This is where the real experiments on superpower genes take place. What you see on the outside is just a front; only those who work here can activate the switches," Robin explained.

He leaned against the wall, and a screen flickered to life. After entering a password, the stone wall began to hum and gradually opened up.

Despite his friendly demeanor, Lyra remained on high alert, her mind racing through countless possibilities. But nothing could have prepared her for the joyful laughter of children ringing out from inside.

"Robin! You’re back!" a chorus of young voices exclaimed.

"Did you take Lyra down?" a boy of around ten asked, curiosity gleaming in his eyes.

Before them stood three children: a young man in his mid-teens, a ten-year-old boy, and a little girl who looked no older than four or five.

All of them wore white lab coats, and when they noticed Lyra, their innocent eyes shone with fierce determination. Even the little girl showed an unyielding spirit.

Without a moment’s hesitation, they sprang into action: three bolts of lightning, two waves of ice, and one sonic blast rocketed toward her. Lyra reacted on instinct, unleashing a burst of radiant energy that sent them flying across the room.

She didn’t hold back just because of their age. Grabbing the smallest girl, she furrowed her brow in confusion.

The little girl mirrored her expression, her lips pressed tightly together, looking like a mini version of Lyra.

"Is this a clone?" Lyra demanded, her voice sharp.

"Yes," Robin replied, stepping in to intervene with the other two children. "She is the only successful clone."

Lyra’s gaze turned dangerously focused. The young girl, despite her small stature, instinctively fought back with her powers but was easily tossed aside.

Robin caught her, holding the squirming child firmly. "FIVE, if you weren’t an ice and lightning hybrid but instead ice and healing, you’d be dead by now."

His calm tone hit home for Lyra. She couldn’t let a clone with her exact powers pose a threat; once her unique abilities were no longer exclusive, competition would be inevitable. Ruthless individuals might decide to eliminate her just to secure their own uniqueness.

But this "Lyra" clone was simply a genetic counterpart. Glancing at the four before her, Lyra quickly pieced things together. "So, you’re not just subjects of a power transplant experiment; you’re products of superpower genetics?"

"Exactly," Robin confirmed, cradling the little girl while guiding the other two closer. His gaze remained locked on Lyra. "Our paternal genes come from Tyro, while the maternal genes were handpicked from the best of the human gene pool... That is, except for Isadora."

Lyra’s mind whirled. The four of them, not including the clone and Isadora, were half-siblings. They shared the same father but different mothers. The absurdity of this revelation was staggering, yet she knew it was true.

"I need to see proof," she insisted, desperate to validate this reality.

A hint of a smile broke through Robin’s usually icy demeanor, as if he found her struggle oddly relatable. "Follow me."

Lyra followed Robin deeper into the lab; she was acutely aware of the three kids who watched her with an unsettling blend of fear and curiosity.

They shifted nervously, looking for a chance to pounce, but one piercing glare from Lyra kept them rooted in place. The two younger ones quickly ducked behind the older boy, trembling.

As soon as the adults passed through another door, the little boy broke the tense silence with a pout. "Is this the person ’Doctor’ told us to kill? She’s scary! Will Five grows up and end like her?"

"Wahhh... I don’t wanna be scary!" the little girl whimpered, shaking her head vigorously. She clearly wanted no part in being fearsome like Lyra.

The oldeer boy gently patted their heads, trying to soothe them. "Don’t worry. Some traits come from genetics. Five is super sweet, and so, I believe that Lyra isn’t just gonna go around killing people. Let’s follow them and see what’s up."

With that, he took one kid by each hand and led them down the corridor.

They entered a room buzzing with complex machinery and flickering monitors, and Lyra found herself captivated by the footage displayed on the screen.

"Success," Westros said, pressing a button.

A white machine whirred to life, revealing a chair cradling a baby, no older than a year. He carefully lifted the child and turned around. "She has two S-class superpowers and has successfully merged both human and our genetic codes. She’s nothing short of perfect."

As the camera angle shifted, two familiar figures came into view: Tyro and Seren. Gone were the gentle, nurturing parents Lyra remembered; their faces now radiated ambition and excitement as they gazed at the infant.

"Who would’ve thought our genes would align so perfectly?" Seren exclaimed, her voice brimming with awe as she cradled the baby.

The child in her arms giggled, that joyous sound echoing—it was a young Lyra!

Then Robin presented Tyro’s experimental notes, and the first line hit Lyra like a ton of bricks:

"I thought I would lead a mundane life as an ordinary human in this undisturbed universe... until I discovered a new meaning that revitalized my existence."

Tyro detailed his meeting with Seren from the Calvin family on Stardate September 17, 2983, explaining how he stumbled upon her role in human gene experiments.

Instead of reporting it, Tyro became intrigued by the goal of creating new humans with dual or even multiple superpowers, eventually joining the project.

"When Seren needed exceptional male genes, we naturally became partners," he wrote.

On November 11, 2990, their combined genes, fused with the power of "the Stellar Devourer," led to the birth of the first successful experimental subject: Lyra.

Just two years later, during a playful moment, Tyro was gravely injured by the Experimental Subject No. 1, which exposed her extraordinary abilities.

Westros, stunned by the results, concealed the truth, merely claiming that her healing power was unique, coining it "Vitality Glow."

Lyra’s mind raced as she read the final entries of the diary.

On May 25, 2994, Seren had given birth to the second experimental subject through natural pregnancy, but it had ended in failure.

Unfortunately, Seren had developed feelings for the child and named him Kail, refusing to allow his destruction. She declared that she would no longer provide her genes for experimentation.

In response, Tyro and Westros decided to combine Tyro’s genes with those of other women.

On July 8, 3000, the dual superpower gene experiments were exposed, prompting Tyro and Seren to make a desperate decision to flee.

The diary abruptly ended, leaving no doubt that Tyro and Seren had met a grim fate, executed by the military for treason.

Lyra closed the notebook with a heavy heart. The narrative of victimhood she had clung to crumbled away.

The notion of a happy family was nothing more than an illusion crafted by two individuals driven by self-interest.

She realized that she, with her almost unfair superpower, was simply a product of their experiments, a selection of genetics for their own ambitions.

Her grip on the notebook tightened until her knuckles turned white, but then she released it, a sense of acceptance washing over her.

Humans were creatures driven by gain, and her parents had merely exemplified that truth.

Yet, it wasn’t entirely devoid of emotion; the diary revealed Seren’s bond with Kail, a hint of humanity amidst the cold calculations of science.

That bond, however, was just a glitch in the machinery of experimentation.

Robin leaned casually against the lab table, arms crossed. "Any questions?" he asked, his tone nonchalant.

Lyra focused on the details that mattered most to her. "What did Westros hide from Tyro about my unique superpower?"

"During the observations, Westros discovered that because you merged human and Stellar Devourer genes, your abilities exceeded all expectations. Furthermore, you manifested an extreme variant of the Stellar Devourer superpower—what we call Vitality Glow."

As he spoke, an odd glint flickered in Robin’s eyes. "This shifted the experiment’s focus: Westros became determined to create a being capable of countering you. And thus, we were born."

"Lyra, we were all brought into this world for you," he continued, his tone turning serious. "There were many failures before us, beings who came into existence only to be destroyed."

Isadora, he explained, was the first successful subject created based on Lyra’s data, which explained her intense, unyielding gaze whenever she looked at Lyra.

 

 

Chapter 235: Trusting None (1)

Westros’ obsession with Lyra stemmed from the fact that she was a miracle of his own making.

Her human physiology exceed that of ordinary beings, and even Stellar Devourers rarely reached her level of capability.

Her unique superpower, Vitality Glow, granted her not only incredible healing abilities but also devastating offensive power.

Lyra’s parents, wrapped up in the process of her creation, had no idea just how extraordinary she truly was.

It wasn’t until Robin and Isadora were created that Benedict knew about the truth.

After Tyro and Seren’s deaths, Benedict had been tasked with secretly protecting Lyra. This was why Ansel couldn’t just kill her outright; he resorted to the underhanded tactic of using Soul Spikes, never imagining she would survive.

As the pieces of the puzzle clicked into place, Lyra accepted the harsh truth with a calm resolve. She turned to Robin, the one who had laid everything bare for her. "So, what do you want from me?"

Robin opened a safe and started gathering a pile of documents, copying various data files. "I want you to join me in presenting this evidence."

Lyra took the copied materials from him, spinning them thoughtfully between her fingers. "Are you really going to betray your origin and take the side of the Alliance?"

"Betray?" Robin frowned, his demeanor surprisingly steady. "I was born in the Alliance, protected by the military, and I’m a legitimate resident. What’s this betrayal talk about?"

For him, choosing to be a respected officer in the Alliance over being a mere tool in an experiment was a straightforward decision.

"If Isadora had your clarity, she wouldn’t be in such a dire situation," Lyra said, glancing at Isadora, who was clutching her chest with blood seeping through her fingers. A trail of crimson marked her path, stark against the backdrop of her brief, blood-soaked twenty-nine years.

"I’ve sacrificed too much for that damned family mission. If I had a chance to break free, I’d give anything for it!" Isadora’s voice dripped with cold resolve, peeling away the facade of the proud noblewoman she had tried to be.

Instead of jealousy, Isadora felt a deep envy toward Lyra’s life, one free from the chains of familial obligation and the need to please men.

Lyra’s freedom to pursue her own desires and fight for herself was something Isadora had admired since they first crossed paths.

Lyra studied her for a moment, weighing her words. "You do have a place to go now, but from here on, your life will be one without a home."

"A life without a home is a life of freedom," Isadora replied, her eyes sparkling with newfound hope.

With a decisive gesture, Lyra set Isadora on her path, freeing her from the shackles of her past.

Outside, the battle had concluded. Following Westros’ escape, the Empire’s Supreme had also fled through a black hole passage.

As Lyra and Robin emerged with the evidence, they found Valeria awake. Upon hearing that Lyra had fought fiercely to save her, Valeria solemnly patted her shoulder. "I’ll remember this debt, young lady."

However, Lyra’s deep, piercing gaze held Valeria’s attention, prompting her to add, "I want to exchange this debt for the answer to two questions."

Valeria’s eyes flicked to Robin, then back to Lyra, curiosity piqued. "What questions?"

"First, did the upper echelons of the military already know who I was?"

Instead of posing a question, it felt more like a declaration, as Lyra had already pieced together the truth. She sought the affirmation that would confirm her suspicions.

Valeria sighed, her expression heavy with concern. "You are the clearest evidence of your parents’ crimes. With the Stellar Devourer genes in your makeup, you should have been under strict oversight by the Alliance. But the admiral rejected that proposal, allowing you a chance to live freely."

After a moment, she lit a cigarette, letting the smoke swirl around them like a curtain. "Though it may sound inappropriate, now that you know the truth, I advise you to cherish this opportunity."

Valeria understood Westros’s obsession with Lyra and the dangers she faced if she chose the wrong path.

Lyra stayed silent for a beat, mulling over Valeria’s words before pressing on. "What exactly is the Stellar Devourer?"

Valeria’s demeanor shifted as she looked up at the vast sky. "To put it simply, they’re advanced life forms capable of controlling black holes and devouring everything in their path." She turned back to Lyra, concern etched in her features. "Humanity has explored the interstellar universe for thousands of years and encountered alien civilizations, but all that remains of them are ruins—destroyed by the Stellar Devourers."

"That’s why we call them Stellar Devourers," the Supreme interjected, arms crossed. "They embody annihilation itself."

"Essentially, they represent the force of obliteration," Lyra mused, connecting the dots. Her own superpower, represented by Vitality Glow, stood in stark contrast to the destructive force of the Stellar Devourers.

As soldiers arrived to assist the Supremes, they quickly set to work, their first task being to recover the bodies from the battlefield.

Valeria’s hand trembled as she held her cigarette, her eyes drawn to the gruesome remains before her.

The council’s demand for secrecy weighed heavily on her; she couldn’t divulge how perilous the mission had been for the young ones. She had done her best to protect the Special Forces, yet the outcome was tragically dire.

Silver strands of her hair whipped around in the bloody wind as she turned to Lyra. "I’m sorry I couldn’t save them."

"You don’t need to apologize to me; I’m not the one who died," Lyra replied, her expression devoid of emotion as she surveyed the corpses.

Valeria shivered, sensing the chill emanating from Lyra, especially following Ansel’s death. ’Is it the Stellar Devourer genes that made her so cold-blooded? Will the admiral’s painful decisions yield any real reward?’

The evidence before them left little room for rest. Valeria quickly tied back her loose hair, gearing up to capture Kritt herself, while Robin and Lyra were tasked with apprehending members of the Calvin family.

As they moved into action, the two Supremes took on an air of detachment, launching themselves into the clouds and vanishing from view.

Others watched in awe, momentarily blinded by their speed; the ordinary soldiers couldn’t keep pace with their psychokinesis.

Lyra watched them disappear into the sky, feeling the power of the elements swirl around her. ’Is this the nature of advanced Peculiars? Able to break free from the bonds of gravity, wielding strength capable of shaking entire planets?’

Lynn walked for a bit before abruptly turning back. "What’s with that little girl staring at us?"

The middle-aged man chuckled, a hint of amusement in his voice. "How could she? We’re Supreme Peculiar! No matter how strong she thinks she is, her psychokinesis can’t touch ours!"

It was a funny notion. The divide between the Supremes and those of lower ranks wasn’t just about numbers; it was a vast chasm. After all, there were billions in the Alliance, yet fewer than ten Supremes.

"I actually think she has a deep understanding of the source of power," the man mused.

"And what if she does? She’s still only at level eight."

"Fair point."

As they continued their light banter, they gradually drifted away. Meanwhile, Lyra was already off on her own mission.