The echoes of the kiss faded, but the seismic shift it caused in Commander Rheon Vale's core remained. The contact—brief, demanding, and fused with the psychic weight of the Bloodlink—had not erased his discipline. Instead, it had re-coded it. His mission parameters were no longer Containment and Retrieval; they were Protection and Revenge.
He was Ascendant Alpha 1, the traitorous vanguard of the Crimson Queen.
Rheon grabbed his energy-bladed knife, his movements crisp and absolute. He didn't question the monstrous beauty that was Lyra Kain; he simply accepted her as the catalyst for the necessary revolution.
Lyra, standing several yards away, watched him with the unblinking, assessing gaze of a true predator.
"Commander Vale," she commanded, her voice low, authoritative, and utterly devoid of the soft intimacy of the kiss. "Our immediate goal is extraction. The sublevels are too narrow. They will deploy gases or kinetic drills next. I need a secure, untraceable transport and a deep-level data bypass to establish a temporary, untraceable network."
Rheon's military training instantly asserted control. "We need to move five hundred meters west into the pre-Federation maintenance conduits. They lead to an old cargo transit platform. I can override the security grid there and requisition an anonymous ground speeder."
"Time," Lyra prompted.
"Four minutes to the conduit. Twelve minutes to the platform, assuming minimal resistance," Rheon analysed, already moving to retrieve his lost suppression pistol.
Lyra was impressed by his focus. She hadn't needed to compel him; his internal sense of duty was simply redirected, absolute and terrifying.
"Go," she ordered. "I will cover the rear."
Rheon moved first, slicing a narrow opening through a fused metal barrier blocking the main tunnel. Lyra followed silently, her speed allowing her to remain a ghost mere inches behind him, using his body as a mobile shield against the sporadic, emergency lighting.
Their partnership was one of savage efficiency. Rheon moved with the grounded logic of a specialised machine—reading schematics, predicting patrol routes, and keeping his neural dampeners focused on the surrounding environmental static. Lyra was the sensor array, the lightning-fast, silent force reading the life signs and emotional intent ahead and behind them.
"Your soldier is perfect, Lyra," Dracula purred in her mind. "He is a weapon crafted by our enemy, and now we wield him with flawless precision."
They reached the main maintenance conduit, a vast, vertical shaft designed for automated repair drones. They began their ascent, using Rheon's powered grapple line.
Three minutes later, they were closing in on the cargo transit platform when Rheon's comms crackled with static—a sign of close-range, localised Federation interference.
"We have company," Rheon muttered, retracting the grapple line and drawing his pistol. "Two Vanguard scouts. Low rank, yet heavily armed. They're locking down the transit exit."
"They will use sonic containment rounds," Lyra warned, already melting back into the shaft's shadow. "They cannot be allowed to signal their success."
Rheon reached the final hatch. He hit the manual override, and the seal hissed open, revealing a sterile, dimly lit platform. Two heavily armoured figures stood fifty feet away, rifles aimed at the conduit.
"Halt! Federation property!" the first scout yelled. "Do not—"
Rheon didn't let him finish. He fired the suppression pistol twice. The neurological rounds were non-lethal, designed to stun. The first round hit the wall, forcing the scout to shield his eyes from the energy flash. The second struck the scout's helmet, but the armour absorbed the shock, only staggering him.
Lyra didn't wait. She exploded from the conduit, a crimson flash that bypassed the staggered scout and slammed into the second one.
The force of her strike was immense, folding the scout's armour inward with a horrific, sickening crunch. She moved too fast for the man's neural network to register panic. He slumped, unconscious, his weapon clattering.
The first scout recovered and swung his rifle toward Lyra.
"Lyra, flank left!" Rheon yelled, firing a third suppression round.
Lyra responded instantly, ducking under the first scout's laser fire. Rheon's round hit the scout's shoulder plating, freezing the motion. The brief paralysis was all Lyra needed. She was on him, her hand gripping the joint of his helmet. She didn't crush him; she simply applied a rapid, precise pressure, exploiting the armour's mechanical weakness until the helmet seal fractured and the scout passed out.
It was over in three seconds. Two of the Federation elite were neutralised without a fatal blow.
Rheon stared at the fallen figures. His mind catalogued the choreography: her speed, his precision, her willingness to take command, and his instinct to obey. They were a perfect, brutal machine.
"Efficient," Lyra noted, standing over the downed scouts, the faint glow of her eyes reflecting in the polished floor. "Now, the bypass."
Rheon moved to the command terminal, inserting a highly encrypted decryption key and overriding the transit platform's central logic unit. He initiated a chain of complex commands, his fingers flying across the console.
[Log Wipe Activated]
[Vanguard Signal Divert: Sector 7 Delta]
[Commander Vale Identity: Deactivated]
[Ascendant Alpha 1 Identity: COMMENCE]
The console confirmed the digital treason with silent, green text. Commander Rheon Vale, the loyalist, was officially missing, presumed KIA or captured. The new identity was a black hole signature—undetectable by standard Federation protocols, logged only to a server outside their primary jurisdiction.
"The transport is clear," Rheon stated, his voice now colder, harder—the voice of Ascendant Alpha 1. "We have a secured ground speeder waiting at Bay 9. Its ID is anonymised. We have less than five minutes before Morn's security team detects the network intrusion."
Lyra approached the panel, her crimson gaze scanning the complex routing logs Rheon had established. She was assessing his discipline, his capability, his commitment.
"He is a general who has pledged his army to us," Dracula observed, satisfied. "Excellent work, Ascendant."
Lyra nodded, a brief, sharp movement of acknowledgement that meant more to Rheon than any medal of honour he had ever received.
"Ascendant Alpha 1," Lyra began, using his new code name with chilling authority. "We have temporary freedom. But we are weak. We need resources, a secure base, and, most importantly, loyal subjects. We cannot fight an empire of billions alone."
She took the lead, striding toward the vehicle bay exit.
"We need more like the technician you left kneeling, Rheon. We need devotees who will serve with absolute, unyielding fealty. We need to begin the recruiting."
Rheon followed, the cold weight of the data shard and the warm memory of her kiss a constant reminder of his new, terrifying allegiance. He stepped out onto the open, damp platform, the vast, corrupt city of the Aeternum Federation stretching out before them.
Lyra stopped by the awaiting, anonymous ground speeder. She turned back to him, her eyes catching the reflection of the distant, buzzing neon signs of the upper Sprawl.
"The Sanguis Order is out there, Rheon. The ancient cult that worships the bloodline. Find them. They will be the first stones in our new empire. The first human beings to willingly offer themselves to the Crimson Mother."
She slid into the pilot seat. Rheon took the co-pilot seat, his hand resting near the control panel, ready to execute her will.
The engine hummed to life, a sound of low, calculated power. The hunter had become the shield; the monster had become the Queen. Their journey into the dark heart of the Aeternum Underworld had just begun.