"Over here. Stay together and keep quiet," Zugiy said, his voice low but firm as he guided the group of freed Kherians through the dark corridors. He was leading them away from the cell area toward an emergency exit he had located earlier. Little Lyra, who hadn't let go of his hand since she was freed, walked beside him, the fear in her eyes replaced by a childlike admiration. Surprisingly, Zugiy didn't mind; her presence was an anchor of normality amid the madness.
The other Kherians whispered among themselves, a mix of gratitude and disbelief. "He broke the bars like they were glass..." one said. "A human... who would've thought?" another murmured. They were a people who had suffered for far too long, and hope was an emotion they needed to relearn. Zugiy could hear everything, but he kept his focus on the path ahead, his power probing the surroundings for any sign of danger.
Suddenly, a new sound echoed through the tunnels. It wasn't the distant noise of battle, but something closer. A rhythmic sound—firm, confident footsteps approaching. The Kherians, still processing their freedom, didn't react with fear; to them, it was just another strange noise in that terrible place. They didn't know what it meant.
Zugiy did.
He stopped, raising his free hand for the group to halt as well. The sound of footsteps grew louder and then abruptly ceased. From the darkness of the corridor ahead, a figure emerged. It was the black-haired woman he had briefly seen in Ling's memory. Mila. She walked slowly, a predator's smile on her face, her arms covered in weapons that looked even more deadly in the dim light.
Instinctively, the Kherians stepped back, forming a protective semicircle behind Zugiy. Lyra clung tighter to his leg. Zugiy's gaze, once calm and focused, hardened. A subtle but unmistakable coldness took over his expression. He gently pushed Lyra behind him, placing himself as the only barrier between the assassin and the innocents.
"Well, well, what do we have here?" Mila said, stopping about ten meters away. Her voice dripped with disdain. "A brave little rat leading the other rats out of the cage. You Federation humans really don't know when to quit, do you? You've picked a fight with the wrong people."
She began to circle, like a shark studying its prey. "Do you think my boss, Crismon, is just some ordinary thug? He's an executor. A businessman. He works for one of the factions that handle the dirty work of the great and powerful Coalition of Planets. Factions that deal with worlds like this... planets that owe the Coalition and can't pay."
Zugiy watched her, processing the information. This wasn't just a gang. It was a system. "Why?" he asked, his voice devoid of emotion.
Mila stopped and burst into laughter, as if the question were the dumbest thing she had ever heard. "'Why?'" she mocked. "Are you stupid or just naive? It's obvious! The Coalition isn't going to waste its precious resources and elite troops policing a bankrupt planet in the middle of nowhere. But... if that bankrupt planet is rich in rare minerals, like Kheris is... oh, then the story changes. They outsource. They hire factions like ours to keep the planet 'under control,' crush any resistance, and make sure the minerals keep flowing into the right pockets. It's about profit, you idiot. It always has been."
The revelation hung in the air, heavy and disgusting. All that suffering, the kidnapping of a child... all for money. For shiny rocks.
Mila seemed to enjoy the effect her words had caused. She made an exaggerated, theatrical bow. "But where are my manners? Allow me to properly introduce myself. My name is Mila, and I am the one who will turn your heroic act into a forgotten tragedy."
Zugiy stared at her, his gaze empty. "Your introduction was long, boring, and unnecessary."
Mila's smile faltered, replaced by a scowl of pure rage. The comment was like a bucket of cold water thrown over her arrogance. "You insolent brat! I'll teach you to show respect to—"
She didn't finish the sentence. Zugiy, without moving a single muscle in his face, simply raised his index finger.
In that instant, the gravity around Mila multiplied. The sensation was like being struck by an invisible hammer the size of a building. Her knees buckled, her bones cracked under the sudden, crushing pressure. Before she could process what was happening, she was violently slammed face-first into the stone floor. The impact was brutal, the sound echoing through the tunnel.
Ten times. Gravity was now ten times heavier on her. She tried to stand, her muscles trembling under the impossible strain. The air felt too heavy to breathe. It was as if the planet itself was trying to crush her.
Zugiy wasn't done. With a slight motion of his finger, he inverted the gravitational field. Mila was ripped from the ground and hurled into the ceiling, her head striking hard. Before she could fall, gravity normalized and then intensified again, pulling her back down. She hit the floor. Then the ceiling. Floor. Ceiling. Floor. Ceiling. He was using her like a yo-yo, controlling her inert body with cold, terrifying precision. The sounds of impact echoed, each one heavier than the last. The Kherians watched, frozen, their mouths open in shock. They had never seen power like that, used with such cold efficiency. That quiet, unassuming human boy was a monster of restrained power.
After a few more collisions—enough to ensure she wouldn't be getting up anytime soon—Zugiy finally let her drop to the ground one last time. Mila landed like a broken rag doll, unconscious and motionless in a growing pool of her own blood.
The silence that followed was absolute. Zugiy lowered his hand, his expression returning to its usual neutral state, as if nothing had happened.
He turned to the Kherians, who now looked at him with a new kind of reverence, mixed with deep and understandable fear.
"Now," Zugiy said, his calm voice breaking the spell. "We can leave in peace."