Ch. 331..335: Interstellar_ Return of the Villain Chapter 331-335
Chapter 331: Lyra’s Back
Aurelius shoved aside the guards closing in on him, using his antennae to fend them off.
He then grabbed Lucien and unleashed a series of punishing blows. He didn’t stop until Lucien was unconscious, finally tossing him aside like a discarded ragdoll.
At that moment, Aurelius sensed a surge of powerful energy rapidly approaching. Without hesitation, he leapt onto his hoverboard and sped away.
He navigated swiftly through the city, arriving at the restaurant where Lyra and her group were dining, and slipped inside without delay.
Moments later, the royal elite guards arrived at the restaurant, prepared to storm in and capture him. However, a shimmering green barrier appeared, sealing off the entrance.
They immediately recognized it as Lyra’s doing.
With no way forward, the guards reluctantly decided to report the situation to Edmund.
Breaking through the barrier would require his explicit approval, as it would risk open conflict with Lyra.
...
Meanwhile, in the palace, Lucien sat under medical care, his face swollen and bruised beyond recognition.
With tears streaming down his cheeks, he cried out, "Father, you must get Aurelius for me! That wretched trash assaulted me, the crown prince, in the palace!"
The queen hovered nearby, distraught and fussing over his injuries as though tending to a delicate, priceless artifact. She demanded the physicians heal him with the utmost care.
Edmund, however, sat on his high throne with a dark, unsympathetic expression. He asked coldly, "Lucien, do you know why I summoned Aurelius back here?"
Lucien responded without hesitation, "Because you want to use him to win over Lyra."
A loud crash shattered the tense air as a cup hit the floor, breaking at Edmund’s feet.
Startled, Lucien looked up, only to meet his father’s intense glare, filled with bitter disappointment.
"If you knew that," Edmund said icily, "why did you provoke him?" He didn’t wait for Lucien’s excuses—he already saw through his son’s actions. "He was leaving, and you couldn’t resist chasing after him, bringing this humiliation upon yourself."
"I didn’t—" Lucien began to protest.
"You didn’t?" Edmund roared, slamming his hand on the armrest as he rose. Pointing at Lucien, he bellowed, "Will you ever understand the situation we’re in? Us, the royal family, is on the brink of collapse!"
The weight of his father’s words hit Lucien like a cold wave. He opened his mouth but couldn’t find the words to respond.
The arrogance he had clung to wavered under the crushing reality of his father’s admission.
"Perhaps," Edmund muttered, "I should consider Aurelius’ proposal after all."
The implication was clear—Aurelius, if being the crown prince, could secure the royal family’s alliance with Lyra. In the face of their survival, blood ties and familial loyalty seemed unimportant.
Neither the queen’s tears nor Lucien’s protests could sway Edmund’s grim resolve.
...
Outside the restaurant, Aurelius glanced back at the royal guards standing helplessly behind Lyra’s green barrier. Letting out a quiet sigh of relief, he made his way to the private dining room he had reserved.
As he entered, Helion’s mocking voice greeted him. "Looks like the royal steak was too tough to chew. Back so soon?"
Lyra, who never drank alcohol, had already finished her meal and was seated quietly in the corner of the room.
Resting her head on one hand, she seemed half-asleep, her faint smile lingering as she listened to her subordinates’ lighthearted banter.
Her gaze briefly flicked to Aurelius as he stepped in, noting the satisfaction etched on his face with a fleeting glance.
"Ma’am," Aurelius said, stepping forward and saluting her. "I’m done with them."
She acknowledged him with a slight nod, prompting a moment’s hesitation before he added, "Edmund is considering removing Lucien as his heir."
The room fell silent as every eye turned to Lyra, waiting for her response.
Raising her head, Lyra locked her sharp gaze on Aurelius, her expression unreadable. Her voice, slightly hoarse, broke the stillness. "If you’re asking me whether I’ll intervene in royal affairs, let me make it clear: I won’t."
The surprise in his eyes made her lips curl into a faint, cold smile.
"If you want the crown, go ahead," she said, her tone flat and indifferent. "I won’t stop you."
Aurelius’ expression flickered with hesitation. If Lyra had no intention of supporting a conflict between the nobility and the military, siding with the royal family would force him to cut ties with the Legion of Everglow.
In the end, the royal family’s downfall would still be inevitable.
It didn’t take long for him to decide. "I will reject Edmund’s offer," Aurelius declared resolutely.
Lyra nodded slightly and stood, stifling a yawn. "Carry on, everyone. Have the manager send the bill to me." She stretched lazily, clearly ready to leave.
Having just returned, she’d spent the evening in this lively gathering, but other pressing matters awaited her.
As she stepped out of the restaurant and reached the front doors, a sleek Lev silently glided to a stop in front of her.
"Boss! You’re finally back!" Crag leapt out of the car, rushing to open the door for her, his wide grin flashing a row of gleaming teeth.
A faint smile touched Lyra’s lips as she bent down and slid into the car. "What are you doing here?"
"The news has been buzzing with your return all day. Morrison saw it and sent me to wait for you," Crag explained, his excitement evident as he glanced at her through the rearview mirror. The energy in his voice was unmistakable—their backbone had finally returned.
"And Morrison?" Lyra asked.
"Morrison’s still working overtime," Crag replied, his enthusiasm dimming slightly. "A lot happened while you were gone these past years. He even had to return from Wyrmtrace personally to manage things. Debbie is away on a business trip to Planet Nagano."
LE Energy had experienced rapid growth, thanks to Lyra’s exceptional talent for building connections.
On the surface, Cohen from the military protected her, and the East family from the Ministry of Finance provided financial backing.
Beneath the surface, Voidstar No. 2 handled external sales channels.
However, while her network expanded quickly, it lacked stability. Without Lyra at the helm, cracks began to show, and the web started to unravel.
When they arrived at the company headquarters, Lyra’s expression remained unreadable, as if the three years she’d been absent hadn’t happened.
Crag knew that this unflinching calm was the core of Lyra’s ability to maintain control in any situation.
In the CEO’s office, Morrison was hunched over his desk, engrossed in paperwork. At the sound of her footsteps, he looked up and greeted her with composed professionalism. "Boss, welcome back."
Lyra glanced around the room briefly before nodding. "You’ve done well."
A shadow crossed Morrison’s face. "We’ve withdrawn personnel from Wyrmtrace, and the Carrelton family has fully taken over New Central City. But they still haven’t paid the outstanding balance from the contract."
"Send them a message," Lyra said coolly. "Tell them to deliver payment in assets tomorrow, or I’ll collect it myself."
As Crag poured water for them, he listened intently. He was amazed—Lyra already knew everything. Then he realized that, Morrison must have briefed her before her return.
Their discussion quickly turned to the most pressing issues. Many stemmed from those who assumed Lyra had been lost in the black hole and tried to exploit the chaos.
Take the Carrelton family, for instance. With a Supreme Peculiar in their ranks, they suppressed LE Energy’s operations on Wyrmtrace.
When Cohen was reassigned, they escalated their tactics—not only intercepting shipments in secret but also attempting to eliminate the queen bee, throwing New Central City and LE Energy’s leadership into disarray.
Since a Supreme had acted, the military couldn’t gather evidence and avoided direct confrontation, leaving LE Energy to handle the fallout.
The Carrelton family even tried to coerce and bribe their way into buying Wyrmtrace assets.
Morrison countered by openly putting the properties up for sale. Rival buyers with similarly powerful backers emerged, eager to snap up LE Energy’s holdings.
This maneuver allowed Morrison to secure some funds.
But no one expected the Carrelton family’s audacity. After purchasing most of the assets, they stalled on paying the final amount—for two years.
Other opportunists who reneged on deals or sabotaged LE Energy’s operations only added to Morrison’s challenges.
But now, everything was different.
Their backbone had returned.
Chapter 332: Snowfall’s Survivors
The Carrelton family was one of the oldest and most influential in the Alliance.
With deep-rooted connections in both the military and government, they wielded immense power in high places. Their wealth came from privately-owned ore planets under development, while their strength was safeguarded by a Supreme Peculiar, Ezrael Carrelton.
Unlike other families vying for attention, the Carreltons kept a low profile, confident in their power and riches.
Initially, they paid little heed to Wyrmtrace’s secrets, even when Lyra, the ambitious young woman, began probing into them.
However, the discovery of a level-eight energy stone mine shifted their indifference to avid interest. By then, Cohen had taken control of the region, preventing them from intervening.
After years of patience and maneuvering, the Carreltons managed to wrest Wyrmtrace’s profits from LE Energy. But just as they prepared to savor their victory, Lyra returned—not merely as their rival but as a newly ascended Supreme Peculiar.
...
"Sir, what do we do now?"
Ezrael Carrelton stood in the courtyard, leisurely practicing his skills. His gray hair swayed gently as he turned his head toward Reynard, the family head, whose hair was just as white.
In a calm voice, Ezrael replied, "The contract states we owe the remaining payment. Fulfill it."
"But..." Reynard hesitated. For two years, they had avoided settling the balance, intent on keeping the profits they’d eked out despite Wyrmtrace’s frequent invasions. Relinquishing such a large sum now felt like a bitter pill to swallow.
More importantly, the Carreltons weren’t used to conceding. Shielded by Ezrael’s formidable status, they were accustomed to dictating terms rather than bending to others.
Ezrael’s sharp gaze interrupted Reynard’s thoughts. He threw a deliberate punch into the air, causing the space to ripple like turbulent water. But as the ripples reached a certain point, they suddenly disappeared, swallowed by an unseen force.
Before Reynard could fully register what was happening, a graceful young woman landed silently behind them.
Ezrael paused mid-motion, letting out a quiet sigh. "The pet of the Rules, indeed."
Even among Supremes, Lyra’s power carried a uniqueness, an extraordinary presence that was impossible to ignore.
"You... you’re Lyra Shedd?!" Reynard stammered, shrinking behind Ezrael. "What do you want? Don’t think we’re afraid of you!"
Ezrael silenced him with a sidelong glance. "There’s no need for theatrics. I’ve already lost."
Reynard froze, disbelief plastered across his face. Forcing a nervous smile, he stammered, "Miss Shedd, this is all a misunderstanding. I’ll convert the remaining balance into equivalent assets—plants and energy stone mines—by tomorrow. Please, don’t hold this against the Carrelton family."
Old families thrived on adaptability, and Reynard’s quick shift to diplomacy reflected their resilience.
Lyra hadn’t even explicitly demanded repayment, yet they capitulated almost instantly.
Lyra didn’t waste time arguing. "Don’t forget to include the queen bee’s treatment costs," she added.
"Of course, absolutely!" Reynard nodded vigorously, desperate to appease her.
Ezrael Carrelton, one of the Alliance’s most powerful Supremes, second only to Lynn, had surrendered without a fight.
In the face of Lyra’s overwhelming presence, any thoughts of resisting or defaulting evaporated.
Lyra nodded once and departed as silently as she had arrived.
Reynard wiped sweat from his brow, only to hear Ezrael murmur, "Who knows how this world will turn out in the end."
As a fellow Supreme Peculiar, Ezrael was profoundly unsettled by the weight of Lyra’s presence. She hadn’t moved a muscle, yet her mere existence was like an immovable mountain.
Shaking his head, Ezrael sighed. "So be it. A loss is a loss. Why trouble myself further?"
The next day, the Carrelton family dutifully delivered truckloads of goods to LE Energy’s warehouse.
This act sent an unmistakable message: those who had been waiting to see how things unfolded quickly snapped into action. Apologies poured in, compensations were paid, and stolen goods were not only returned but often doubled in value.
Even those who harbored resentment swallowed their grievances when faced with Lyra’s cold, unyielding gaze. Her emotionless stare extinguished any words of protest, leaving them with no choice but to hand over their payments in silence.
Morrison stood off to the side, furiously typing away on his calculator as he tallied the flood of incoming payments.
His hands moved without pause, while his thoughts marveled at Lyra’s unmatched ability to turn the tides.
No one out there could ever make Lyra take a loss.
When the day’s work was done, Morrison cast a satisfied glance at their suddenly swelling accounts.
"What about Wyrmtrace?" he asked.
"No need to bother with it anymore," Lyra replied.
Debbie, who had just returned, nearly leapt out of her seat. "Boss, are you seriously just going to let those scumbags off like that?"
New Central City on Wyrmtrace had been a project Debbie painstakingly built from the ground up.
Over the years, Debbie had grown into a reliable second-in-command alongside Morrison. Professionally, she exuded competence and maturity. Privately, however, she remained as dramatic as ever.
"Oh, boss! You’re finally back!" Debbie cried theatrically, throwing herself into an exaggerated lament. "These years under Mr. Morrison’s iron fist have been unbearable! He’s so jealous of my talent that he’s sent me running all over the galaxy. Look at me! I’m still young, but my hairline is retreating faster than a scared cadet!"
Morrison’s eyebrow twitched visibly at her antics, his expression unimpressed.
"Chloe just called," Morrison said flatly, shrugging on his jacket. "Dinner’s ready at home. Boss, I’m calling it a day."
Debbie huffed at his retreating back. "Go ahead, leave! I’ll just stay here buttering up HER while I can."
Turning back to Lyra, she launched into another theatrical outburst. "Oh, woe is me!" she wailed, her lament undercut by her pristine designer outfit, which spoke of anything but hardship.
Lyra waited patiently for her to finish before asking, "How’s Planet Nagano?"
At this, Debbie immediately shifted gears, adopting a serious demeanor. "Jarven and Lucia have kept operations running smoothly, but Planet Nagano is too close to Snowfall. With everyone afraid the Empire might attack, businesses and residents are relocating to safer planets."
"Tell Jarven and Lucia to prepare for withdrawal," Lyra said firmly.
"Withdraw?" Debbie’s eyes widened. "Are you serious?"
"Yes," Lyra said without hesitation.
Debbie didn’t question her further, nodding and leaving to make the necessary arrangements.
Lyra tapped her desk thoughtfully, her mind preoccupied.
Scarvoci of the Legion of Flaring Stars had shared troubling intelligence: the Stellar Devourers were openly conducting experiments on children within the Empire’s borders.
Despite the glaring nature of these atrocities, the Empire seemed unable—or unwilling—to intervene.
Combined with the recent return of the Phelixes, it was clear that the Stellar Devourers were preparing to unleash their full might.
Debbie returned briefly, hesitating in the doorway. "Boss, there’s one more thing," she said softly. "The people you asked me to find...we’ve located them."
Lyra’s long lashes fluttered as her hand clenched slightly. "Who survived?"
"Zinnia and her brother, Zarek."
Lyra rose to her feet immediately. "Where are they?"
"At a hotel. Would you like me to arrange for them to be brought to your residence?"
Lyra flexed her fingers, as if to steady herself. "I’ll go with you."
...
Years earlier, during the Empire’s large-scale invasion, Conners’ betrayal had caught the Legion Glory and its allied generals completely off-guard.
In their desperate rush to defend Snowfall, Legion Glory had faced the Empire head-on, fighting until only two survivors remained.
Lyra, having sent Thierry to safety, had endured one crushing loss after another. In the invasion’s final hours, she fought alongside Conners in a desperate battle that left her stranded in deep space for three long years.
Her return was laden with grief that had never fully healed, but from the moment she arrived, she ordered an investigation to locate any surviving members of the Legion Glory.
Now, at last, her prayers had been answered.
Chapter 333: Tammy
Lyra arrived at the hotel.
If Zinnia had been her old self, she would have rushed to greet Lyra with enthusiasm. But now, her face was expressionless, her gaze distant as she stood apart, watching Lyra approach.
The night wind stirred around Zinnia, who had a backpack slung over her shoulders and carried her daughter in her arms. Her once short hair now fell past her shoulders, and the strong, toned physique she had once been proud of was gone.
Thin and frail, she looked as though a strong breeze might knock her over.
Dressed in a plain denim dress, there was no sign of the bold, carefree spirit she had once exuded. Instead, exhaustion and despair clung to her like a heavy cloak, leaving her hollow, like a lifeless wooden doll.
Lyra stepped out of the car and glanced past her. "Where’s Zarek?"
"At the veterans’ rehabilitation center on Planet Nagano," Zinnia said slowly.
Without hesitation, Lyra turned to Debbie. "Bring him to my villa."
Then she looked at Zinnia. "Get in the car."
Her voice was firm and calm, carrying a commanding strength that unexpectedly soothed Zinnia. In that moment, it felt as though no matter how overwhelming the burden, Lyra could bear it all.
Zinnia took a deep breath. "Alright."
...
After founding the Legion of Everglow, Lyra had purchased a villa near the company in Central City for convenience during her visits.
Now, it was the perfect place to house Zinnia and her family.
As they headed out to pick up Zinnia, Lyra had already instructed the housekeeper to prepare the rooms.
"You’ll stay here from now on," she said, opening the door to the guest room. The space was fully prepared and waiting. "Put Tammy down first."
Unusually, Tammy had remained asleep in Zinnia’s arms throughout the entire journey without stirring—a worrying sign.
Zinnia handled her daughter as though she were made of delicate glass, gently placing her on the bed. Her eyes were filled with a love so pure it rivaled the moonlight.
"Lyra, ever since Tammy was rescued, she’s been in a coma. She hasn’t woken up, and the doctors can’t figure out why."
Lyra walked over and looked down at the little girl. "Let me take a look."
Tammy, now seven, was a shadow of her chubby, rosy-cheeked self from four years ago. She was painfully thin, her limbs and neck so fragile they seemed they might snap.
Her cheeks were sunken, faint veins were visible beneath her pale eyelids, and her breathing was shallow and weak.
A green light scanned over Tammy’s body as Lyra conducted her examination. Her gaze hardened slightly. "Let’s talk outside."
Zinnia’s heart clenched as she followed Lyra into the living room, her hands trembling. She sat down and immediately asked, her voice shaking, "Can Tammy wake up?"
"Not yet," Lyra said, her eyes drifting upstairs. "What exactly happened back then?"
Zinnia froze, her body stiffening as she shook her head. "I don’t want to talk about it."
The memories were too raw, too agonizing to revisit.
Even after three years of therapy, Zinnia, with her loyal and deeply emotional nature, had been unable to heal. The wounds felt irreparable, like they could only be erased by wiping her mind clean.
"Tell me," Lyra said, her tone sharp and unyielding, cutting through Zinnia’s defenses like a blade.
Zinnia’s lips quivered, and suddenly, she broke down, tears spilling over. "Why did it take you so long to come back—"
She collapsed into Lyra’s arms, her sobs racking her thin frame. "I watched my grandpa and dad die, one after another, right in front of me! I couldn’t save them—I couldn’t even escape..."
"I got Tammy and Rajan into the escape pod, but then the black hole came. Rajan threw Tammy out of the pod, but he—he was pulled in. I almost had him, just a little more, and I could’ve saved him. Just a little more... But I couldn’t..."
Her grief consumed her, her body trembling with the weight of her anguish.
Zinnia and Tammy had survived only because of the elastic metal Lyra had given them years ago. It had saved their lives—just barely.
Tears continued to roll down Zinnia’s face as her voice dropped to a trembling whisper. "Lyra, how did it come to this?"
She had once lived a life filled with happiness—a loving family, doting elders, a protective brother, and a devoted husband. But all of it had crumbled before her eyes, leaving her with nothing but memories.
For three years, Zinnia had tirelessly cared for her injured brother while endlessly worrying about her daughter. She had not dared to cry, fearing that if she let herself feel the full weight of her sorrow, it would destroy her. But now, in Lyra’s presence, the wall she had built around herself finally cracked, the tension releasing all at once.
Debbie, who stood nearby, let out a quiet sigh of relief. She understood that this outpouring of emotion was a step forward.
Zinnia’s earlier silence had alarmed her deeply; the psychologist treating Zinnia had warned that if she continued to suppress her pain, her mental health might completely unravel.
The empty living room echoed with Zinnia’s heart-wrenching sobs. Her tears, burning hot, trickled down her face and neck, soaking into Lyra’s clothes.
No one knew how long she cried before her sobs finally subsided into silence.
"Stay here for now," Lyra said as she handed Zinnia a set of clean clothes the housekeeper had brought over. "Go take a bath."
Zinnia nodded faintly and made her way upstairs. As the warm water cascaded over her, her foggy thoughts began to clear.
Then, a sudden realization struck her—she hadn’t asked Lyra what was wrong with Tammy.
...
While Zinnia was in the bathroom, Lyra instructed the housekeeper to prepare a bowl of warm broth. Carrying it to Tammy’s room, she stood silently by the bed for a moment before speaking softly. "Tammy, your mom’s not here right now."
Tammy’s long lashes fluttered, and she slowly opened her eyes. Upon seeing Lyra, she pouted, her expression filled with a child’s quiet sadness. "Godmommy... I’m hungry."
For the past three years, Tammy had survived only on nutrient infusions. During crucial years of her growth, she had been too weak to even lift a finger.
Lyra propped her up gently against the pillows and began feeding her the broth, spoonful by spoonful. After just half a bowl, she stopped, worried that Tammy’s fragile body might not handle more.
"Why are you pretending to be sick?" Lyra asked softly.
Tammy leaned against her, her voice so faint it was almost inaudible. "If I get better, Mommy will leave me to go find Daddy."
Years ago, when Zinnia was recovering from her injuries, Tammy had overheard her talking to Rajan’s photo.
Zinnia had said, "Once Tammy gets better, I’ll come find you." That moment had planted a deep fear in Tammy’s heart. She had thought long and hard before deciding to fake her illness.
As long as she stayed unwell, Tammy believed, her mom would stay by her side and wouldn’t leave her behind.
Lyra gently stroked Tammy’s brittle, thinning hair. For three years, this tiny child had kept up the act, her suffering hidden from everyone. She had endured hunger, refusing food and water, all to keep her mother close.
"Godmommy," Tammy whispered, her small voice pleading, "don’t tell Mommy, okay?"
Lyra’s expression softened, her eyes flickering with emotion. "I won’t. But I’ll arrange for you to go somewhere for treatment. That way, you won’t need to pretend anymore."
Tammy shook her head weakly. "No, I want to stay with Mommy. I’m scared."
Tammy, just seven years old, had endured the same trauma as her mother.
Lyra relented with a quiet sigh. "Alright, then. I’ll give you some superpower. It’ll keep you from feeling hungry and give your body what it needs to stay strong."
"Thank you..." Tammy murmured before drifting back into sleep.
After tucking Tammy in, Lyra went downstairs.
The moment Zinnia saw her, she stood up from the living room sofa, clutching her bowl of broth. "Lyra, how’s Tammy?"
Lyra hesitated, Tammy’s fragile plea echoing in her mind. Meeting Zinnia’s hopeful gaze, she shook her head slightly.
The light in Zinnia’s eyes flickered and went out. She sank back into her seat, her hands trembling as she murmured with despair, "Even YOU can’t help her?"
Lyra’s lips tightened slightly. "It’s very likely psychological. I can keep her alive, but you need to pull yourself together and give her hope."
Zinnia, who had seemed resigned moments ago, looked up again, a flicker of determination igniting in her eyes. "I want to join the Legion of Everglow."
She was technically on medical leave, but as long as she was willing, her reinstatement could be processed quickly.
This response made Lyra breathe a little easier. "I’ll call Mandy right away."
When Mandy got the news, she was so overwhelmed she nearly fainted, her breath quickening in excitement. "I’m coming over immediately!"
She couldn’t believe Lyra had actually brought Zinnia back.
...
Mandy arrived at the villa in record time. Before Zinnia could put on a brave front, Mandy pulled her into a tight hug, scolding her fiercely. "Were you planning to hide forever if Lyra didn’t find you? You idiot!"
Chapter 334: The Stellar Devourer Riot
The three women caught up well into the night.
When Mandy arrived, she had brought a reinstatement application. Once Zinnia finished filling it out, Mandy carefully tucked the form into a folder and smiled. "If Helion and the others find out you’re rejoining the Legion of Everglow, they’ll be over the moon."
Zinnia, still weak, managed a faint joke. "Hmph, they might even pick a fight over it."
The light-hearted comment brought a spark of nostalgia to Zinnia’s face, brightening it slightly as memories of their roommate days resurfaced. Though the smile was small, it was genuine.
Mandy, however, couldn’t help sighing inwardly. She rose, tucking the folder under her arm. "It’s late. I should get going."
As she stepped outside, the night wind struck her, and she hurried to the wall for support.
Covering her mouth, she trembled with silent sobs, trying not to make a sound.
After a moment, she forced herself to regain composure and walked toward the gate.
Just then, she noticed a Lev car parked nearby.
The dim glow of a cigarette flickered under the faint streetlights.
Leaning against the car, a woman turned her head. She wore a white dress layered with a black blazer, her hair lightly curled, and her makeup flawlessly done.
Mandy recognized her immediately, surprise flashing across her face. "I thought you weren’t coming. Why didn’t you go inside?"
Vivian stubbed out her cigarette on the car window, flicking it neatly into a nearby trash bin. "I can get all I want to know here, from you, so why bother? How’s she doing?"
Mandy shook her head. "She’s still not herself."
Vivian looked like she wanted to say something sharp, but the words caught in her throat. She clicked her tongue instead. "Of course, she isn’t."
She tilted her head back, gazing at the night sky. Memories of Zinnia’s once-arrogant and unyielding demeanor crossed her mind. Vivian couldn’t picture her in this broken state.
The four of them—once roommates—had since walked vastly different paths in life. Among them, Vivian had changed the least, remaining as carefree and unrestrained as ever.
Vivian glanced back at Mandy and raised an eyebrow. "Want to grab a drink?"
Mandy declined. "No, I have a lot of work tomorrow."
"Work?" Vivian’s tired eyes glimmered with faint sarcasm. "With the way the Legion of Everglow is now, you still have work? Hmph. If you want to say no, just say it."
In the past, being called out like this would have flustered Mandy. Now, she simply smiled lightly. "If not for that years of memory we share, I wouldn’t have stopped to talk to you at all."
The once-intimidating Vivian now seemed to Mandy like nothing more than an unpretentious, carefree socialite.
Vivian was briefly taken aback, then shrugged. "Well, being able to chat with Lieutenant Commander Mandy is an honor for me."
With a wave, Vivian got into her car and drove off, disappearing into the night.
Vivian didn’t feel sadness or regret.
Her life was rich in its own way, and there was little she envied about anyone else. What struck her, instead, was how much the people around her—and the world itself—had transformed.
The streets were now plastered with news of the Empire’s invasion. Even those out at night in search of pleasure carried subtle tension in their faces, as if a shadow loomed over them.
But one person stood apart.
Vivian’s mind conjured the image of Lyra—her calm, composed face seemingly untouched by time.
Over the past ten years, Lyra had moved steadily forward, overcoming obstacles, conquering challenges, and facing sorrow with unflinching resolve.
Vivian turned her gaze back to the road, murmuring softly, "May everyone find what they’re looking for."
...
Zinnia officially rejoined the Legion of Everglow.
Lyra assigned her to a position as a personal guard, sparing her from the complex dynamics of other roles.
Although Zinnia’s superpower remained formidable, her physical condition had deteriorated over three years of inactivity.
Veterans like Helion outpaced her in stamina and strength, so Lyra adjusted her expectations, allowing for leniency.
This decision sparked murmurs throughout the Legion—no one had expected Lyra to make exceptions for anyone.
...
During lunch, Zinnia scratched her head awkwardly. "Am I causing trouble for you?"
Lyra, sipping her soup with her usual calm, replied, "No."
Mandy grinned as she dropped a drumstick onto Zinnia’s plate. "Trouble? Who here could give Lyra a hard time? Most people wouldn’t even dare dream of getting special treatment from her."
Zinnia chuckled, biting into the drumstick with gusto. "Well, I feel lucky then."
Helion appeared suddenly, balancing his tray as he sat down. "Zinnia, how about we switch places? I’d love for Lyra to spoil me like that."
Vikie slid into the seat beside him and snatched his drumstick. "Keep dreaming, Helion."
"Give me back my drumstick!" Helion grabbed it back, not caring that Vikie had already taken a bite. He bit down, ripping the meat clean off the bone with a satisfied crunch.
Vikie scoffed, "You’re such a dog."
The banter made Zinnia laugh genuinely. But every now and then, her gaze would drift toward the window, and the light in her eyes would dim, clouded with lingering sorrow.
With a sharp clap of her hands against her cheeks, she forced herself to focus. "I’m heading to the training grounds!" she declared, quickly clearing her plate and striding off.
Watching her leave, Helion’s expression darkened. "She’s still struggling."
Vikie let out a heavy sigh. "People with deep emotional bonds always have a harder time letting go."
They had all lost friends and comrades, and even now, those wounds felt fresh.
Lyra, finishing her meal, placed her fork down with deliberate calm. "If you’ve got energy to wallow, you’ve got energy for more shooting practice."
The room froze.
"Rear Admiral Shedd, you’re heartless!" Elsie groaned, shooting her a pitiful glare.
"What’s the point? No matter how much we train, they’re not sending us to the frontlines anyway," Aurelius grumbled, frustration clear in his voice.
Lyra’s gaze swept across the room, catching the attention of everyone listening in.
"You’ll get your chance soon enough," she said, her tone cool and steady.
She knew the Alliance Military Council would call for her when Westros finally made their move.
Thinking of the Empire’s experiments on the ore planets, her expression darkened. The inevitable clash felt closer than ever.
...
That afternoon, Lyra summoned several adjutants and regimental leaders to the shooting range.
From her Space Button, she retrieved a set of sleek, newly developed weapons. "These will be distributed to the troops," she announced. "Ensure that pilots, mech operators, and snipers master their use."
The officers exchanged curious looks before picking up the weapons to test them.
When the green, photon-like bullets fired, a stunned silence followed—then a wave of excitement erupted.
The implications were clear.
With these weapons, the threat of the Star Devourers no longer seemed insurmountable.
On the far side of the galaxy, deep within the crushing embrace of a black hole, Phelixes remained ensnared, his form straining against the overwhelming gravitational forces.
Ahead of him, an army of Stellar Devourers loomed ominously. Desperation filled his voice as he shouted, "If you go through with this, you’ll only bring about your own annihilation!"
Westros turned slowly, his lips curling into a warm yet unmistakably sinister smile. "If destruction is inevitable for us, then humanity has no right to exist either."
For Westros, the path was clear. If Lyra insisted on adhering to the Rules, then he and his kind would fulfill their purpose—to annihilate any civilization that dared to threaten the universal balance.
"Begin the operation."
Westros strode into a sterile laboratory and pressed a concealed switch on the wall. One by one, overhead lights flickered to life, illuminating rows of glass chambers.
Within each chamber stood a figure, motionless, their necks adorned with numbered collars.
"Even without the Supreme specimen, these will suffice," Westros muttered to himself.
With a decisive motion, he pulled down a large lever. A hiss echoed through the room as the glass chambers began to open, their contents stepping forward into the cold, artificial light.
Silent and bare, the experimental subjects emerged one by one.
The same chilling process unfolded simultaneously in countless laboratories scattered across the Empire.
Chapter 335: Ruling The World
At the Empire’s frontlines, Iskandor’s eyes snapped open. The commanding presence he was known for was now tinged with an intensity his subordinates had never witnessed before.
"Relay my orders," he commanded sharply, his tone leaving no room for hesitation. "Mobilize every operational ship from every spaceport. Civilian evacuations are to begin immediately."
The officers exchanged stunned glances. One, gathering the courage to speak, asked hesitantly, "Sir... what’s happening?"
Iskandor’s jaw tightened, his expression grim. "The Stellar Devourers have revolted."
...
On this fateful day, a massive black hole appeared above every human settlement across the Empire’s planets.
It was as though a divine being had opened its cold, merciless eye, initiating an unyielding judgment.
Cities—symbols of progress and civilization—crumbled instantly. Towering skyscrapers, advanced robots, and sleek vehicles were all inexorably drawn into the abyss.
Fortunately, the spaceports had been prepared. Numerous ships, fully stocked with supplies, were docked and ready to evacuate refugees.
However, the black hole—summoned by the Stellar Devourers—though smaller than the true behemoths hidden in the cosmic void, unleashed devastation on an incomprehensible scale.
Outside the spaceports, chaos erupted. A teeming sea of desperate people surged, screamed, and fought to escape.
Scenes of looting, violence, and raw panic were accompanied by the sight of debris spiraling upward, consumed by the ravenous void.
The apocalypse unfolded like a grotesque masterpiece.
From the rooftop of a towering high-rise, Westros surveyed the carnage below, a satisfied smirk curling his lips.
...
As the destruction began, Iskandor issued an urgent plea to the Alliance for sanctuary.
Initially, many suspected it was a ruse by the Empire. But when undercover agents embedded within the Empire transmitted corroborating reports and harrowing footage, the Alliance swiftly convened an emergency assembly.
The grand hall swelled with nobles, military commanders, and government officials. This was no longer a matter of borders or politics—it was a matter of humanity’s survival. No one could afford to remain neutral.
"Forget debating whether to grant them refuge," Raphel said with a shrug. "The real issue is, how do we fight these Stellar Devourers? I enjoy a good war, but let’s be honest—we’re outmatched. That’s just the reality."
On a massive screen, the agents’ recordings played in an unending loop.
The scenes were catastrophic: black holes swallowing entire cities, planets dimming as the Stellar Devourers passed, and celestial bodies drifting from their orbits. Collisions triggered chain reactions that rippled through entire star systems.
Against this apocalyptic force, human civilization seemed like a fleeting illusion, vanishing in an instant. A heavy despair settled over the room.
Valeria, assigned as the liaison with the Empire, displayed additional data on the screen. Her voice was somber. "According to the Empire’s reports, the Stellar Devourers have also created experimental beings. These Master Peculiars possess human-level intelligence and the powers of the Stellar Devourers. They are exceptionally difficult to defeat."
The assembly hall, crowded with over a thousand attendees, fell silent—so quiet that even a leave drop could be heard.
Dessel finally broke the silence with a yawn, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "What’s the point of all this debate? Just release Lyra already."
Leona, seated near the government delegation, nodded emphatically. "Exactly. At this point, Rear Admiral Shedd is our only chance against the Stellar Devourers."
"She was born under the will of the fundamental rules of the universe itself," Lynn added gravely. "If anyone can intercept the Stellar Devourers, it’s her. She’s humanity’s best hope."
All eyes turned toward Frederick, who sat quietly, his expression heavy with conflict.
"There’s no denying it anymore," Frederick said at last, his voice low. "She’s the only one who can face them. But—" he hesitated. "Lyra is ambitious. I fear that after she defeats the Stellar Devourers..."
"Ha!" Edmund interjected sharply. "And what, exactly, would we have to fear after that? Even if she becomes humanity’s dictator, isn’t that better than total extinction?"
When Aurelius rejected the decree naming him crown prince, Edmund was overwhelmed by a deep sense of dread, as though the very fabric of the world was unraveling.
Even so, he reassured himself with one thought: if Lyra took command of humanity, there might still be room to negotiate the royal family’s survival. But if humanity were to perish entirely, the royal family would perish with it.
With this grim calculation in mind, Edmund fully—almost desperately—committed to supporting Lyra’s deployment to the frontlines.
In truth, the decision to send her back into battle encountered no meaningful resistance. To refuse her deployment would have been to concede defeat, leaving everyone to retreat to their homes, share one last meal with their loved ones, and await humanity’s extinction.
Frederick’s concerns about Lyra’s ambitions were not widely shared. For most, the priority was stark: survival first, leadership later.
If humanity could endure, the question of who held power seemed a distant problem. After all, Lyra couldn’t dismantle every institution or replace every leader.
Resigned to the inevitable, Frederick reluctantly gave the order, summoning Lyra to the frontlines.
At the same time, he approved the Empire’s request to shelter its refugees temporarily on Snowfall.
...
The announcement ignited outrage among the Empire’s military leadership.
"Snowfall was already ours! And it is at the far edge of their territory, they expect us to hold the line there? We’re nothing but cannon fodder to them!"
"Exactly! Even now, the Alliance clings to its prejudice against outsiders!"
Standing by the window of Snowfall’s temporary command center, Iskandor turned to address the room. A faint, unreadable smile graced his lips. "Given humanity’s current numbers, losing a few here and there might not be the worst thing."
His words dropped like a cold blade into the room, silencing the officers. They stared at him, their shock palpable, struggling to process the admiral’s callousness.
Slowly, a dark realization settled over them—Iskandor bore traces of the Stellar Devourer’s genetic code. The thought sent a collective shiver through the group.
Unfazed by their unease, Iskandor’s tone remained calm but commanding. "Prepare yourselves. We’re heading to Elden Prime, the heart of the Alliance’s territory. We’re going to visit the Central City."
With the Stellar Devourers poised to strike again, humanity’s survival depended on forming a unified plan with the Alliance.