Ch. 336..340: Interstellar_ Return of the Villain Chapter 336-340
Chapter 336: Just Kill Them
No one could have foreseen that the Empire and the Alliance, who had been fierce adversaries until recently, would reconcile and join forces to confront a shared threat.
Lyra accompanied Dessel and Leandro to the spaceport to welcome the Empire’s admiral, Iskandor. The area buzzed with activity—flashing cameras, recording devices, and fame-hungry influencers livestreaming the event, oblivious to the looming danger.
Behind the scenes, the Alliance had stationed Lynn nearby, ready to act if Iskandor made any sudden moves.
Lyra, too, was under strict orders to intervene if necessary. If these powerhouses clashed, few among the gathered crowd would survive the fallout.
"Welcome to Elden Prime’s Central City, home of the Alliance," the cheerful broadcast rang out.
Dessel’s cordial smile and Leandro’s striking elegance captivated onlookers, but Lyra’s silent presence dominated the scene, impossible to ignore.
The Empire’s generals stiffened at the sight of her, memories of her battlefield ferocity flashing in their minds.
Only Iskandor remained composed, his expression unreadable as he shook hands with Dessel, Leandro, and finally Lyra. "Thank you for your hospitality," he said in a flat tone.
Dessel replied with a mild smile. "Well, we’re all human, aren’t we? Without the Empire’s discovery of the Stellar Devourers’ nature, we might not have acted in time."
On the surface, the words were polite, but the subtext was sharp. Dessel was subtly blaming the Empire for unleashing chaos and now expecting the Alliance to fix it.
The Alliance’s message was clear: they were willing to cooperate but wouldn’t conceal their disdain. The Empire had come seeking help, and not being turned away was mercy enough.
Lyra caught the stiff expressions on the Empire’s delegation and smirked inwardly. It was no coincidence that Dessel had been chosen to greet them; his sharp tongue was a deliberate barb.
As the Empire’s group entered the area, the atmosphere began to shift. The air grew noticeably hotter, and waves of heat radiated outward, distorting the surroundings.
Spectators, now drenched in sweat, fanned themselves and muttered in confusion.
"Why’s it so hot all of a sudden?"
"Did the Aegis Shield’s temperature controls fail?"
"No way—there would’ve been an alert if that happened."
Lyra’s eyes locked onto an old man with gold-and-red hair standing behind Iskandor. Heatwaves rippled continuously from him, distorting the air.
This wasn’t a malfunction—it was his superpower. Without even consciously exerting his abilities, he was creating a localized climate anomaly.
This man was an Overarching Peculiar—the same Overarching who had dragged her into a black hole three years earlier.
Sensing her gaze, the gold-and-red-haired Vern let out a short, disdainful snort. Though brief, it thundered across the spaceport, unleashing a surge of superpower energy that rippled through Elden Prime.
Even Dessel staggered slightly, momentarily disoriented, and Lynn, hidden nearby, froze for a split second.
Lyra, however, stood unmoved, her gaze steady as she looked away.
’A human wielding this level of power? Incredible,’ she thought coldly.
Vern’s golden-red eyes flickered in surprise, the faint astonishment vanishing quickly as he composed himself.
...
This meeting was far from a typical diplomatic event, so the Empire’s delegation bypassed the formalities of staying at an official guest hotel.
Instead, they proceeded directly to the Alliance Military Council building.
Frederick and the other Alliance leaders were already gathered. When the two groups faced each other, the air bristled with tension.
The animosity between these old enemies was palpable, but with the Stellar Devourers threatening extinction, they managed to suppress their grudges—at least for now—and sit down to plan humanity’s survival.
The atmosphere in the meeting room was undeniably strange. Only recently, these two factions had been locked in brutal combat, trying to destroy one another. Now, they sat around the same table, drinking from the same cups and sharing the same water.
"We have devices capable of detecting black holes in advance," an Alliance representative began, "but if the enemy launches a large-scale invasion, those warnings won’t matter much. Does the Empire have any additional measures?"
"If we had such measures, we wouldn’t have come to the Alliance seeking refuge," Iskandor replied. Realizing he couldn’t afford to be evasive, he continued, "Our immediate priority isn’t just to fight back but also to ensure supplies and transport are prepared. We need to be ready to evacuate on short notice."
There was no room left for politeness. Frederick cut directly to the heart of the matter. "The Empire seems to have stockpiled evacuation supplies and ships long before this crisis. Did you learn of the Stellar Devourers’ plans far in advance?"
The Empire’s generals exchanged uneasy glances. Under Iskandor’s absolute authority, decisions were centralized. If the spaceports had been pre-stocked with resources, it could only mean that he had foreseen this long ago.
Iskandor’s expression remained composed. Calmly, he said, "The moment we allied with the Stellar Devourers, we knew we were making a deal with the devil. I prepared for betrayal from the start."
His reasoning seemed logical, but the meticulousness of his preparations struck some as suspiciously thorough.
Frederick and the other Alliance leaders couldn’t help entertaining the possibility that Iskandor was a plant for the Stellar Devourers—or that this entire situation was an elaborate ruse by the Empire and the Devourers.
But the devastating state of the Empire’s planets made such theories seem improbable. The Empire’s resource-rich worlds were far more valuable than anything in the Alliance; surrendering them was illogical.
"The only effective weapon we have is Rear Admiral Shedd," Frederick said at last. "Does the Empire have anyone besides Admiral Iskandor capable of fighting the Stellar Devourers?"
"Not even I can do that," Iskandor admitted bluntly, his gaze meeting Frederick’s. "While I can manipulate black holes, I’m only an experimental subject. Westros can sever my connection to them at any time, and there’s always the risk of the black holes turning against me."
He spoke with disarming honesty about his limitations, leaving the Empire generals visibly uneasy, their pride stung.
Meanwhile, the Alliance delegates regarded him with cautious curiosity.
Slowly, every gaze in the room turned to Lyra.
She sat unperturbed, her composure unnerving even the boldest in attendance. When she finally lifted her eyes, the intensity of her gaze made several people instinctively look away.
"If no one has a better plan, then we’ll prepare to fight and evacuate simultaneously," Lyra said, leaning back slightly in her chair. "When the Stellar Devourers appear, I’ll lead the Legion of Everglow into battle."
"Do you have a strategy in mind?" Frederick asked cautiously.
The question seemed strange to some in the room. ’isn’t Lyra herself the strategy?’
"Just kill them," Lyra replied, her tone matter-of-fact.
In the end, the so-called strategy session achieved little more than empty deliberation.
Lyra knew this all too well. No matter what was discussed, the conclusion was inevitable—they would send her to the frontlines.
Chapter 337: Prelude to Destruction
It had cost less than 20 days from the Stellar Devourers’ revolt to the Alliance and Empire forming an uneasy truce.
In that brief span, the Stellar Devourers had decimated the Empire’s territories. Now, a massive black hole loomed at the Alliance’s border, its relentless advance starting at Snowfall.
The Stellar Devourers abandoned all notions of strategy. Like a remorseless engine, they surged forward, consuming everything in their path.
The black hole in the sky resembled a swarm of cold, unblinking eyes or the yawning maw of a ravenous beast, swallowing everything it encountered. The faint, inescapable pull it exerted sent chills down the spine.
Lyra narrowed her eyes, green light forming in her hands. With a swift, practiced motion, she sealed the black hole, her precision rivaling that of a master surgeon closing a critical wound.
She turned to her companions. "Evacuate now. We’ll handle this."
Just then, Vern the Overarching emerged from Iskandor’s dimensional corridor. Hearing her command, he raised his voice with a mock grumble.
"You’ve got some nerve, young lady! No respect for your elders! Your team’s barely holding together, and you think you can face this alone?"
"Sure, you may be able to counter the Stellar Devourers, but that doesn’t mean we’ll just slink away quietly!"
Helion, piloting his mecha, let out a sharp laugh. "Hah! You don’t sound much like an Overarching, old man." His thick accent and carefree tone earned him a glare.
Vern stomped forward, his gestures as fiery as an erupting volcano. "What do you mean I don’t? Hot, isn’t it? Hot, isn’t it?"
Ever since ascending to the Overarching level, his body emitted an intense heat, causing the air around him to shimmer.
Helion quickly backed his mecha away, fanning himself theatrically. "Hot as hell, old man! Stay back, will ya?"
Vern huffed, sparks seemingly flying from his nostrils. "When our two teams combine, I’m sticking to your Overarching like glue. He’s practically a walking air conditioner—I’ll finally cool off!"
Despite their banter, both men kept their psychokinetic focus locked on the sky above. Their lighthearted exchange vanished when Stellar Devourers, piloting monstrous mechas, began descending from the heavens. A dense, impenetrable cloud of darkness enveloped the planet, swallowing the sun in a suffocating eternal night.
Amid the oppressive gloom, a brilliant streak of green light shot upward.
Lyra hovered in the air, surrounded by metallic orbs glowing with emerald light. With a mere thought, the orbs shifted into various shapes, tearing a massive rift in the darkness.
Suspended midair, her fingers came together as she channeled a radiant green energy, as dazzling as polished jade. In one sweeping motion, she flung her arms outward, scattering countless green shards into the air. These luminous fragments rained down on the invaders, shredding their defenses and severing the power of the black hole.
As the light pierced their forms, life drained from the Stellar Devourers in an instant. Their lifeless bodies fell from the sky like broken marionettes, crashing to the ground in grotesque heaps. Alone, Lyra stood as an unyielding bulwark.
Then Westros appeared. His form was encased in black armor, dense and unyielding, shimmering with an otherworldly glow that mirrored the swirling constellations of the cosmos.
When Lyra unleashed a blade of green energy, it shattered against him, leaving him unscathed. In a flash, he was upon her, wielding a massive, menacing sword.
"The Incarnation of the Black Hole has returned," he sneered. "Your efforts to suppress him are meaningless now."
His blade struck Lyra, but her emerald armor flared to life just in time to absorb the blow. The force, however, sent her hurtling through the air. She barely had time to recover before Westros reappeared, his sword descending again.
She crossed her arms to block, the impact slamming her into the ground and creating a crater over a hundred meters wide.
Lyra rolled aside just as his next strike came down, the sword cleaving deep into the fractured earth.
Lyra planted one hand on the ground and delivered a powerful kick to Westros, forcing him back. With a sweeping motion, she conjured twin blades of green energy.
"Whether I can beat you or not," she said icily, "we’ll find out soon enough."
Her foot pressed lightly against the ground, and she launched forward like a blade herself, attacking Westros with precision and fluidity.
The slashes from her dual swords came from every angle, one cutting left and the other right.
The clash of their powers echoed in piercing bursts, and where green met black, flashes of energy rippled through the air like thunder.
Below them, Vern was a walking calamity. Rivers of molten lava spread for miles around his feet, engulfing every enemy that fell from the sky.
He surveyed the battlefield with a raised eyebrow and muttered, "Huh. I’m cutting loose here, and this planet’s still holding together?"
It wasn’t a casual remark—his full power often triggered catastrophic natural disasters. Overarching Peculiars like him were rarely allowed to unleash their abilities anywhere near inhabited worlds.
An Imperial commander standing nearby offered an explanation. "Lyra’s superpower embodies the essence of life itself. It not only prevents environmental destruction but also spreads vitality wherever it’s used."
Vern nodded, though his expression soon turned thoughtful. "Still, my power outranks hers... How is her life force suppressing mine?"
His eyes narrowed as he focused on Lyra, who was still locked in battle with Westros. Her movements were graceful and unrelenting, each strike filled with purpose.
Her long braid whipped through the air, a vivid contrast to the chaos around her.
"Her power must be more than it seems," Vern muttered, casually flicking his fingers to incinerate another descending experimental subject.
---
Westros grimaced under Lyra’s relentless assault. Two swift strikes forced him into a defensive stance, his frustration evident in his sharp tone.
"Lyra, you might hold me back for now. But can you stop all the Stellar Devourers? Can you protect both Snowfall and Elden Prime at once?"
His sneer carried the confidence of someone certain she couldn’t be in two places at once.
Lyra scoffed, smirking. "Did you think I’d come unprepared?"
"What do you mean?" Westros demanded, his voice betraying a flicker of unease. His eyes darted to the side, catching movement that made him freeze.
On the shoulders of Helion and the other pilots’ mechas, twin-mounted cannons pivoted into position. From their barrels, beams of green energy erupted, carving through the Stellar Devourers with devastating accuracy.
The invaders shrieked as their bodies, struck by the beams, failed to regenerate.
Further away, another barrage of high-energy blasts rained down. These strikes severed the connection between the Stellar Devourers, their experimental subjects, and the black hole’s energy. The afflicted convulsed violently before collapsing lifelessly to the ground.
Westros’ confident sneer twisted into a scowl. "When did you develop these weapons?"
"Five years ago," Lyra replied coolly.
At the war’s outset, she had tasked Koros with developing new anti-Stellar Devourer technology.
With the foundation of Aesculapius’ Grace secure, Koros shifted focus to creating advanced weaponry. Once Lyra returned to the frontlines, she ensured their immediate deployment.
"I should have wiped out your research teams when I had the chance," Westros growled, deflecting her blade with a powerful swing.
Lyra prepared to counter, but an unnatural wind surged upward from the ground, carrying with it an eerie tremor that made her pause.
"Look over there!" someone shouted, their voice tinged with panic.
On the distant horizon, a mass of blackness began to rise. Where the darkness met the earth, mountains, clouds, trees, and even the air itself twisted and warped before vanishing into oblivion.
Anything the black void touched was consumed, erased entirely in moments.
The planet trembled, as if caught in the jaws of an enormous, invisible beast that was slowly devouring it.
Vern’s expression darkened, and he turned to Lyra, his voice urgent. "Get out of here, now!"
Chapter 338: The Fallen Planet
The entirety of Snowfall was succumbing to the black hole’s relentless pull. Its immense gravity even unsettled Vern, whose composure rarely wavered. The overwhelming force made his scalp tingle with unease.
"Rear Admiral Shedd, we’re relying on you! There are still three ships at the spaceport that haven’t launched!" Vern, abandoning his usual air of superiority as a senior Peculiar, called out with urgency, his tone stripped of its usual formalities.
Lyra, locked in combat with Westros, delivered a forceful kick that sent him staggering.
Pressing a hand to her earpiece, she barked, "Converge at the spaceport! Prepare for evacuation!" Without hesitation, she disengaged from the fight.
Westros wasn’t about to let her go so easily. He moved to pursue, but suddenly faltered. His black armor began to disintegrate, and a pained voice echoed in his mind.
"I won’t let you harm her," came Phelixes’ tortured tone.
At that moment, the other Stellar Devourers also felt their link to the black hole weaken. Even Westros hesitated, his cold gaze following Lyra’s retreat.
"Hmph," he muttered disdainfully. "What’s the point of fighting now?"
...
At the spaceport, the remaining ships had stalled in mid-air, struggling against the black hole’s gravitational pull. Below them, Snowfall itself crumbled.
The planet’s crust shattered, the mantle disintegrated, and even the vibrant new growth of leaves and grass withered to dust in an instant.
Rivers evaporated, mountains collapsed, and countless beasts were silently swept into oblivion.
The planet resembled a fragile egg being peeled apart layer by layer by the monstrous black hole. Even light seemed to fade, leaving behind only a suffocating void.
Ships, fighter jets, and mechas strained against the pull, inching toward escape. Inside the vessels, survivors clutched one another, terror evident in their wide eyes.
Outside, stranded creatures howled in desperation, their cries swallowed by the encroaching darkness.
The sky offered only a faint sliver of light—a fleeting promise of survival.
Just as annihilation seemed inevitable, a brilliant green light pierced the void. It surged upward, carving a narrow path through the black hole’s oppressive darkness.
The radiance expanded outward, forming a protective halo around the ships and the creatures below.
In the command center, Dessel roared, "Follow her lead!"
Lyra stood at the edge of the rift, her figure illuminated by the glow of her lightweight mecha. She was a solitary beacon in the void, holding back the tide of destruction and illuminating a path to salvation.
From the ships, survivors like Serena pressed themselves against the windows, gazing at Lyra. From a distance, she was no more than a speck of light, yet she carried the hopes of everyone aboard.
Serena clenched her fists, longing for the strength Lyra wielded. ’If only I had her courage...’
The ships began to open their cargo holds, offering sanctuary to the beasts incapable of space travel. Inside the cramped vessels, humans and non-human creatures—species driven to near extinction by the Stellar Devourers—shared the same desperate refuge.
Uneasy glances were exchanged, but the need for survival outweighed all else.
Amid the cold void of space and the looming threat of the black hole, humanity’s deep-seated responsibility for order and coexistence shone through.
...
At the rear of the fleet, Lyra lingered. She watched as Snowfall transformed from a vibrant world into little more than dust, a heavy weight settling over her heart.
From the black hole, Phelixes’ face emerged, twisted by madness. Across the vast emptiness of space, he extended his left hand toward her.
Though his right hand was dominant, the left was closer to his hollow heart—a heart he, as a Stellar Devourer, did not truly possess. It was a gesture devoid of sincerity, as empty as his existence.
Without hesitation, Lyra turned away. The gap she had held open sealed shut behind her, cutting off the void entirely.
...
Meanwhile, on Elden Prime, news of the Stellar Devourers’ encroachment forced the population into underground shelters guarded by military forces.
Evacuation plans were in place, ready to launch at the first sign of defeat.
In the shelters, distinctions of rank and status dissolved. Superiors and subordinates, corporate executives and janitors—everyone faced the same shared terror.
The air was heavy with fear, etched into tear-streaked faces and whispered prayers for survival.
Above ground, the Central City, once bustling with life, was silent. Empty streets and an oppressive stillness mirrored the dread in the hearts of those below.
The city stood frozen, a monument to the fragility of hope against the shadow of annihilation.
On Elden Prime, Zinnia, Robin, and other key defenders took strategic positions atop the skyscrapers in major cities. Around them, soldiers spread out in concentric defensive formations, braced for the impending assault.
"It won’t be long before the war arrives here," Zinnia murmured, her hand gliding along the sleek surface of the photon-powered intercontinental cannon beside her. "Raj, if you’re watching, keep me, Tammy, and Lyra safe."
Her quiet reflection vanished when the first black hole appeared on the horizon. A sharp glint flashed in her eyes as she snapped down her electronic visor.
"Oasis City. Coordinates E29.9451, N31.7431. Black hole detected. Begin firing sequence. Fighter and sniper divisions, prepare for engagement."
The massive cannon adjusted its aim in response to her command.
With a decisive press of the firing button, it unleashed a concentrated green beam that shot across the sky, striking the black hole at its core.
Echoing screams followed the strike, but relief was short-lived as more black holes opened, releasing waves of Stellar Devourers and experimental subjects that descended like an unstoppable storm.
"Switch to isolation mode," Zinnia ordered, her voice sharp.
Across the planet, similar commands were issued. In seconds, a vast green defensive net unfolded over Elden Prime, its luminous strands cutting the Stellar Devourers’ connection to the black holes.
The cannon recalibrated, angling upward to release another volley.
The bursts of green energy ascended like fireworks, forming a protective canopy over Oasis City.
The Stellar Devourers halted, momentarily stunned as they realized their link to the black holes had been severed.
That moment of disarray was all the Master Peculiars and Supreme Peculiars needed. Stationed throughout the cities, they struck with deadly precision.
The Stellar Devourers, stripped of their access to black hole energy, were now vulnerable to the Legion of Everglow’s specialized weapons.
Weaker Stellar Devourers were quickly overwhelmed by coordinated sniper fire, aerial assaults, and Peculiar-led ground offensives. The tide of battle began to turn.
This scene unfolded across Elden Prime, as green energy lit the skies above embattled cities, creating beacons of resistance.
...
At the Alliance Military Council Headquarters, Frederick monitored live feeds from the frontlines.
One by one, the screens displayed scenes of Stellar Devourers falling, cities holding strong, and the Legion’s defensive tactics proving effective.
Officers around him sighed in relief. "It’s a good thing the Legion of Everglow had countermeasures ready."
But Frederick’s expression remained tense, his brow furrowed. "They’ve had this solution for some time, yet they didn’t share it with us earlier. What were they planning?"
Leaning against the wall, Valeria snuffed out her cigarette with a scoff. "Isn’t it obvious? She doesn’t trust us. After what we’ve put her through, of course she’s keeping some cards close to her chest."
Frederick glanced at her, his tone steady but firm. "You’re underestimating her."
Valeria’s smirk turned wry, a flicker of mockery in her gaze. "Maybe. Or maybe you’re overestimating her."
Frederick didn’t respond, his focus returning to the battle reports.
...
The battle raged on, a dazzling spectacle of superpowers clashing across the skies and earth. Blood stained the ground as once-thriving cities crumbled into ruins within moments.
Near Oasis City, a group of Stellar Devourers zeroed in on Zinnia, recognizing the cannon’s pivotal role in the defense.
They launched a coordinated assault, descending toward her position in a deadly formation.
Before they could reach her, the cannon roared, releasing a green beam that pierced through their bodies.
Agonized screams filled the air as the energy swelled within them, causing their forms to burst apart in grotesque explosions.
From the edge of a black hole, Westros emerged just in time to witness the carnage. His face twisted in rage. "We need a plan—before she fully awakens."
He barked an order into his earpiece, demanding a status update on Phelixes’ location. The reply was filled with frustration.
"Phelixes is refusing to pass through the dimensional corridor! He’s clinging to what little sanity he has left!"
Westros’ expression darkened further. "Fine. Then we deal with Iskandor first." A sneer curled his lips. "Helping the humans... such pitiful naivety."
...
In a hidden chamber on Elden Prime, Iskandor stood with Lyra, Dessel, and other commanders, deep in strategic discussion.
As they debated their next move, Iskandor suddenly froze mid-sentence.
"Admiral Iskandor?" Dessel stepped forward, concern evident in his voice.
Before he could act, Lyra grabbed his arm and yanked him back.
A split second later, Iskandor’s chest collapsed inward, forming a swirling black vortex.
Chapter 339: Anti-Hero
Iskandor’s chest collapsed inward, forming a swirling black vortex that sent the room into chaos.
In an instant, the desk in front of him, scattered documents, and even a nearby guard were sucked into the vortex.
Just then, a flash of green light enveloped Iskandor, shielding him temporarily from the void’s crushing pull.
"Pfft!" Iskandor spat out thick, crimson blood, staining his silver hair and softening his cold, imperious visage with a fleeting hint of vulnerability.
His icy blue eyes locked onto Lyra, and with a ragged voice, he said, "I’ll teleport you back to Elden Prime... first..."
With trembling hands, he opened a dimensional corridor. "Go... now."
Lyra hesitated only a moment before stepping through the portal.
Three seconds later, Iskandor collapsed to one knee. The towering pillar of the Empire had fallen, and the room erupted into disarray.
...
When Lyra emerged on Elden Prime’s Central City, she stepped directly into a chaotic battlefield.
Despite the frenzy, humanity was clearly gaining ground, aided by the cutting-edge weaponry of the Everglow.
Unfazed by the ongoing skirmishes, Lyra strode with purpose toward the Alliance Military Council Headquarters. Her boots echoed sharply against the polished floors, each step radiating authority.
Workers scrambling through the hallways instinctively cleared a path for her. Soldiers snapped to attention, saluting as she passed. None dared to meet her eyes.
Her presence was palpable—like a blade slicing through the air, edged with blood and unyielding resolve.
When she entered the command conference room, the tense air thickened into something suffocating.
The gathered leaders turned toward her, startled by her abrupt arrival. Panic erupted.
"Why are you back so soon?" Valeria demanded, her voice tight with worry. "Did something happen to the evacuation force?"
Lyra crossed to the water dispenser, filled a glass, and drained it in a single motion before answering. "Iskandor succumbed to the black hole’s power. With his last strength, he sent me back. Phelixes, the incarnation of the black hole, has lost control. We can’t stop him. Snowfall is gone—dust in the void. Begin organizing the evacuation of every planetary population. Now."
A stunned silence followed.
The Council members, unaware of Snowfall’s annihilation due to the loss of its orbital satellites, struggled to process her words.
Frederick activated the star map to confirm. When the map displayed Snowfall’s absence, a chill swept through the room.
"Even you couldn’t stop it?" an elderly general demanded, his voice tinged with both disbelief and dread.
All eyes fixed on Lyra, seeking reassurance, a plan, or even the faintest glimmer of hope.
Her expression remained unreadable as she delivered the blunt truth. "I couldn’t."
The room erupted into chaos. Desperation took hold as voices clashed, layering panic on top of panic.
"Are we really looking at interstellar exile?"
"You said we needed to fight back! Now what?!"
"That’s right! Rear Admiral Shedd, do something!"
Lyra’s brows furrowed slightly, her patience thinning. Her voice cut through the commotion like a blade. "I told you to fight while preparing for evacuation. Did you think I was bluffing?"
The room quieted enough for her to continue, her tone sharper now. "There is no guaranteed victory here. I never promised one. I’m just a Supreme Peculiar, far from the peak of my strength. How do you expect me to take on the black hole itself?"
Her voice dropped lower, colder. "If you still haven’t started making preparations to evacuate, then you’ve doomed yourselves."
Ronin, his frustration boiling over, slammed his fist against the table. "Easy for you to say! Do you have any idea how much preparation interstellar migration requires? How long it’ll take to find a habitable planet?"
He leaned forward, his anger palpable. "And what about the Alliance? How can you expect us to abandon everything we’ve built? You’re just—"
His accusation faltered under Lyra’s piercing gaze. Her eyes, like shards of ice, silenced him before he could finish.
When she spoke, her tone was cutting. "You claim to care about the Alliance, but all you’re truly afraid of is losing your power and wealth. Don’t try to disguise your selfishness as noble concern."
Of course, no one dared to admit their greed outright.
"Stop slandering us!"
"We’re only thinking about the future of the Alliance!"
Lyra’s response to their protests was calm yet piercing.
"Then leave. If you want to stay and die, that’s your choice. But I won’t stay here with you—and I’m sure others feel the same."
Her words struck like a thunderbolt, leaving the senior officials bristling with indignation.
"Rear Admiral Shedd, what are you implying? Are you abandoning your post?"
"You’re a soldier—and the only one who can fight the Stellar Devourers. You have a responsibility to protect us!"
"How can you betray the people of the Alliance and the faith we’ve placed in you?"
But guilt-tripping and appeals to duty had no effect on Lyra. She was neither a savior nor a martyr. The idea of sacrificing herself for the greater good held no appeal.
Lyra had always leaned toward the role of the anti-hero—unflinching in her pragmatism and unapologetic in her actions. She didn’t need to be loved or idolized; she would do what was necessary, regardless of how it was perceived.
Amid the rising tension, Frederick’s commanding voice cut through the room like a blade. "Quiet!"
The clamor ceased as the council members grudgingly obeyed, swallowing their anger in the face of his authority.
Frederick fixed Lyra with a measured, unyielding gaze. "Rear Admiral Shedd," he said, his tone firm. "The weapons used by the Legion of Everglow—if mass-produced, they could allow other units to fight the Stellar Devourers, correct?"
His words reignited the room with frantic energy.
"Yes! If every unit had access to those weapons, the Stellar Devourers wouldn’t stand a chance!"
"Rear Admiral Shedd, hand over the schematics immediately!"
Lyra remained unfazed. "The schematics aren’t with me," she said flatly.
For a brief moment, silence returned to the room. Then came the barrage—persuasion, threats, and veiled offers.
"This is no time to be selfish, Rear Admiral. Humanity’s survival is at stake!"
"If you provide the designs, the military will ensure you’re credited for your contributions."
"With weapons like these, you could go down in history as humanity’s savior!"
But Lyra’s expression didn’t so much as flicker. "Even if the weapons were mass-produced, no one else would be able to use them," she replied coolly.
Her statement was met with disbelief. The council members dismissed it as an excuse, and their accusations grew harsher.
Still, Lyra remained indifferent. She had no intention of continuing a futile argument. These officials clearly had no real plans for evacuation, and staying here was a waste of her time. Without another word, she turned on her heel and headed for the door.
Just as she reached it, Frederick’s voice rang out behind her.
"Rear Admiral Shedd, are you truly going to defy us and act on your own?"
His tone was calm but carried a distinct undercurrent of threat.
The room fell silent again, its occupants staring at Lyra with a mixture of anger, resentment, and desperation.
Lyra paused, turning her head just enough for her voice to carry. The light from the hallway cast her figure into sharp relief, her long braid swaying slightly like a shadow drawn by the wind.
"From the very beginning," she said, her tone razor-sharp, "it was you who pushed me into a corner. If things have come to this, you’ve only yourselves to blame."
She hadn’t initially intended to withhold the weapon designs. But experience had taught her not to trust the Alliance’s leadership.
If she handed over her work, they would discard her the moment she ceased to be useful. Her decision wasn’t born of selfishness—it was survival.
Ignoring the bitter expressions in the room, Lyra walked out without a backward glance.
...
With the Legion of Everglow’s advanced weaponry and Lyra’s leadership, Elden Prime held strong—for now. But the grim reality played out across satellite feeds.
Phelixes, now fused with the largest black hole yet, was rapidly closing in on the planet.
No, "closing in" wasn’t the right phrase. Phelixes was devouring everything between himself and Elden Prime, erasing time, space, and every obstacle in his path.
Following the destruction of Snowfall, Planet Nagano had also fallen, consumed entirely by the black void.
Fleets of ships carrying the last survivors of these ravaged worlds now converged on Elden Prime, the final refuge in a galaxy on the brink of collapse.
Chapter 340: Alon Mendez
Mandy never imagined a day like this would come—when the man she had once admired from a distance would stand before her, pleading for her help.
She had finally managed to carve out a rare half-day to rest in her apartment in Central City. But as soon as she arrived, Alon Mendez was already there, blocking her doorway.
"Mandy, please, help us," he begged, his voice thick with desperation.
Seeing that he wouldn’t leave, Mandy reluctantly let him inside. Thankfully, her family was staying elsewhere, sparing everyone the discomfort of an awkward encounter.
Though Alon had clearly tried to look polished in a sharp, tailored suit that emphasized his striking features, his red-rimmed eyes and the bluish circles beneath them revealed his exhaustion.
The Mendez family had once thrived on Planet Nagano, their roots deep and their wealth vast. But that planet had been consumed by a black hole, leaving nothing behind—not even dust.
The collapse of order stripped them of their immense wealth, lofty status, and every privilege. What had once been an endless stream of digits in Nagano’s banks was now meaningless; the banks themselves no longer existed.
With the planet’s destruction, the Alliance’s resource reserves shrank drastically, sparking severe hyperinflation.
A hundred credits, once enough for two days of comfortable living, could no longer buy even a loaf of bread.
The Mendez family wasn’t destitute yet, but desperation had set in. They hoped Mandy could petition the government to recover their assets.
They weren’t alone—merchants from other ruined planets were making similar requests, though none had met with success.
Alon’s approach was calculated. The Legion of Everglow was at its height, and Mandy, as its secretary-general, wielded considerable influence. Surely, the government would listen to her.
He wasn’t wrong—Mandy had the power to act. But she refused him outright.
"The government won’t approve your claim," she said firmly. "Elden Prime’s resource reserves are already stretched to the limit. If hyperinflation worsens, ordinary people won’t even be able to afford food."
Her tone remained resolute as she elaborated. "Those with millions or billions might spend a thousand credits on a loaf of bread, but most people don’t even have that much. Hunger will drive them to revolt, and riots will erupt. The government and the military council won’t risk such chaos. Anyone with a shred of responsibility would see that."
Alon grew agitated. "It’s just my family. One exception won’t lead to chaos," he insisted.
"No exceptions. Not for anyone—and definitely not from me," Mandy replied, crossing her arms. Sunlight streaming through the window caught her golden ponytail, making it gleam like fire.
The Legion of Everglow was already under intense scrutiny from the Alliance Military Council. Mandy couldn’t afford to give anyone ammunition against them.
Alon’s tone became more urgent. "Others might refuse, but why won’t you help? If it’s Rear Admiral Shedd you’re worried about, I promise—once the assets are restored, I’ll give half to her."
"Money’s just numbers now," Mandy said evenly. "Lyra wouldn’t care."
Lyra had made her priorities clear upon returning, converting all funds into tangible resources. She had foreseen the current crisis long before it arrived.
Frustration overtook Alon, his voice sharpening. "Mandy, are you really going to be this heartless? Or is this still about what happened all those years ago?"
His accusatory words made Mandy frown. She thought she’d moved past those feelings long ago.
The sting of unrequited love and heartbreak had become a natural part of her life, something she had endured and, with time, even found traces of sweetness in. ’Why ruin that now? Why insist on reminding me that the sweetness had been my own illusion, the bitterness the only truth?’
She snorted and leveled him with a cold, disdainful look. "And why shouldn’t I hold you accountable for your insults and manipulation?"
The moment Alon spoke, he regretted it. The Mandy standing before him now was no longer someone he could afford to provoke.
To put it simply, a single frown from her was enough to send a chill down his spine.
Her sharp gaze locked on him, and his confidence wavered. Wiping his face, he adopted a mournful tone.
"What do I need to do to earn your forgiveness?" he asked. "You know my grandfather needs Aesculapius’ Grace treatment every few months. If we can’t afford it, am I supposed to just watch him die?"
Despite the emotional weight of his plea, Mandy remained unmoved.
"Out of respect for the time your family lent us money when my grandmother was in crisis, I can provide food and help Mr. Mendez apply for Aesculapius’ Grace treatment," she said. "But for the rest of your request—I cannot agree."
Alon’s expression shifted abruptly. He stood, his voice rising. "I know you still have feelings for me! If you agree to help, I’ll do anything you want."
The implication hung heavily in the air. Mandy’s lips curled into a faint smile. "Anything?"
Her demeanor changed. Relaxing back into the couch, she tilted her chin slightly, her tone mocking. "Then go ahead. Show me."
Alon flushed with humiliation but began unbuttoning his jacket. After shrugging it off, he moved to remove his diamond cufflinks, his actions slow and hesitant.
Mandy raised her eyebrows, mildly surprised. She had only intended to make him retreat in defeat. She hadn’t expected the man who had once insulted her to truly cast aside his pride.
Yet here he was, standing before her like a puppet awaiting her command.
How ironic.
Her mind briefly wandered to something Lyra had once told her during the particularly dark moment: "When you have everything, there will be thousands of Alons for you to choose from."
Wealth and power had proven seductive indeed, but Mandy’s gaze narrowed slightly.
Alon had already unbuttoned his shirt, revealing smooth, pampered skin.
Compared to the hardened soldiers of the Legion of Everglow, his body was unimpressive.
Whatever appeal he once held for Mandy was long gone. Just as she prepared to tell him to leave, an unexpected voice broke the silence.
"Bad timing, but I think my business is more important than seducing men."
Mandy turned sharply to see Lyra leaning casually against the doorframe. In that moment, she wanted nothing more than to throw Alon out of the window.
For his part, Alon was so mortified he wished he could leap from the twentieth floor. Still, he forced himself to maintain composure. "Rear Admiral Shedd, long time no see."
Lyra’s expression was frosty as she gave him a curt nod. "Don’t let the door hit you on the way out."
Alon grabbed his jacket in a rush and fled, nearly tripping over himself. There had been a time when he could stand face-to-face with Lyra without fear, but now her icy aura left him paralyzed. He passed her without uttering another word.
Once he was gone, Lyra turned to Mandy, who looked thoroughly embarrassed.
"You could’ve just said yes," Lyra remarked flatly.
Mandy shook her head. "The government has already refunded over a hundred bank accounts. I’m not going to add more fuel to the fire."
She elaborated. "The connections between merchants and people in both the military and government are too deep. If those funds get converted into resources, it’ll inevitably squeeze out the survival space for ordinary people. I’ve been one of them—I won’t become the kind of person I used to hate."
Lyra didn’t comment on Mandy’s principles. She simply said, "The time is right. Get your family in order and prepare to move with Morrison."
Mandy hesitated, a trace of melancholy crossing her face. "So, it’s finally come to this."
"Lyra," Mandy started, as if recalling something.
"Hmm?" Lyra turned back, her expression unreadable.
Mandy met Lyra’s emotionless gaze but hesitated, then shook her head. "Nothing."
Fate had entwined them in its web from the moment they were born, pulling their lives along predetermined paths.
All they could do was navigate the chaos of these countless interwoven threads, searching for a way to survive.