Page 24
Chapter 24
Cirdox
T he sterile corridors of the Eclipse flagship stretch before me like arteries of some vast mechanical beast, each pulsing with the cold blue light that marks their technological “superiority.” My tribal markings cast crimson shadows across gleaming walls, their glow deliberately dimmed but impossible to fully suppress—not with the fury burning in my blood. The bond pulls at my soul like a compass seeking true north, each pulse carrying fragments of Neon’s pain that fuel my rage.
The first security checkpoint appears ahead—four guards in pristine tactical gear that speaks to Eclipse precision and arrogance. Their enhanced sensors should have detected my approach, but they’ve grown complacent in their technological superiority. Fatal mistake. My wings snap wide as I launch myself forward, moving with a speed born of centuries of combat training and the primal drive to reach my mate.
The first guard dies before he can raise his weapon, my claws finding the vulnerable seam where helmet meets armor. The second manages to draw his sidearm, but a sweep of my wing sends him crashing into the wall with bone-crushing force. The third and fourth coordinate better, their modified reflexes allowing them to take defensive positions. But they’ve never faced a Kyvernian warrior fighting to protect his mate.
I move like smoke between them, every motion a perfect blend of power and precision. My wings become weapons, razor-sharp edges slicing through armor while blocking their retreat. One guard’s enhanced eyes widen in fear as he realizes too late that his precious technology is no match for primal fury. The other tries to trigger his emergency beacon, but my claws tear through his armor like paper, silencing him permanently.
A fifth guard emerges from a side corridor, his weapon already charged. But desperation makes him sloppy. I catch his energy blast on my wing, the reinforced membrane dispersing the charge even as I close the distance between us. His enhanced reflexes let him dodge my first strike, but he’s not prepared for how quickly I recover. My claws find his throat with surgical precision, and his dying gurgle carries a warning to anyone monitoring their comms.
I don’t bother hiding the bodies or silencing alarms. Let them know death stalks their halls. Let them feel the same fear they’ve inflicted on my mate. Let them realize too late that all their technology, all their “improvements,” mean nothing against a Kyvernian protecting what’s his.
The bond tugs harder now, each pulse carrying more of Neon’s fading strength. My markings flare brighter in response, their glow reflecting off pools of spilled blood like warning beacons. They thought they could take my mate, could use her against me? They’re about to learn exactly how fatal that mistake will be.
I move deeper into the ship, every sense heightened by protective fury. The sterile corridors all look identical, but I don’t need maps or markers. The bond guides me unerringly toward her, each step carrying me closer to the heart of the Eclipse’s stronghold. More guards will come. More will die. And nothing—not their technology, not their numbers, not even death itself—will keep me from reaching her.
The air grows colder as I stalk through the sterile corridors of the Eclipse flagship, each step carrying me closer to their research wing. The clinical scent of antiseptic and ozone burns my nostrils, mixing with subtle undertones of fear and pain that make my tribal markings pulse with renewed fury. They dare experiment on my mate? They dare try to understand the sacred bond between us with their cold science?
My claws leave deep gouges in the metal walls as I fight to contain the primal rage burning through my veins. The bond-sickness claws at my mind, a creeping darkness that threatens to consume me entirely. But I won’t let it. Not when Neon needs me. Not when her brilliant light flickers so dangerously through our stretched connection.
The first patrol never sees me coming. My wings snap wide as I drop from the shadows above, using their enhanced strength to slam two soldiers into opposite walls before they can raise their weapons. The impact leaves dents in the reinforced metal, their bodies crumpling to the floor like broken toys. The third manages to get off a shot that scorches my shoulder, but the pain barely registers through the battle-fury singing in my blood. My claws find his throat with lethal precision, tearing through reinforced armor like tissue paper.
Let them come. Let them try to stand between a Kyvernian warrior and his captured mate. I am done with mercy. Done with restraint. They will learn why my people are feared across the galaxy, why even the ancient legends speak of our fury in whispered tones.
Another patrol rounds the corner—elite troops this time, their movements betraying extensive cybernetic enhancement. The first raises his weapon with inhuman speed, but I’m already moving, my wings carrying me through the air in a deadly dance. My claws rake across his faceplate, shredding the reinforced material and the flesh beneath. His partner’s energy blast catches my wing, leaving a trail of searing pain that only feeds my rage.
I spin, using the momentum to sweep my wings in a devastating arc that sends two more soldiers crashing into the ceiling with bone-crushing force. They don’t get up. The last tries to retreat, reaching for his emergency beacon with cybernetically enhanced reflexes. My fangs find his throat before his fingers touch the control, the taste of copper flooding my mouth as I tear through vital arteries.
The corridor falls silent except for my ragged breathing and the distant hum of ship systems. Through our bond, I feel Neon’s presence growing weaker, her usual fierce spirit flickering like a dying star. The emptiness where her vibrant mind should be burns through me like acid, feeding the primal rage that threatens to shatter my careful control. Each pulse of her pain drives my claws deeper into my palms, drawing blood that drips unnoticed to the polished floor.
I am coming, little hacker. And the Eclipse will pay in blood for every moment of pain they’ve caused you. They thought they could use our bond against us, thought they could break what makes us strong. But they don’t understand. This connection between us isn’t just about comfort or pleasure—it’s about two souls finding their perfect match, about strength multiplied rather than divided.
My markings pulse brighter as I sense her location more clearly now, like a beacon calling me home. She’s close, so close, and nothing—not their technology, not their numbers, not even death itself—will keep me from reaching her side. The darkness threatens to overwhelm me where her fierce spirit should be, but I force myself to focus through the pain. My mate needs her warrior, not a captain drowning in desperation.
The next group of soldiers doesn’t even have time to scream. I move through them like a force of nature, each strike precisely calculated to cause maximum damage. My wings sweep wide, using their enhanced strength to devastating effect as I tear through their ranks. Claws and fangs find weak points in armor with deadly accuracy, my body moving with the fluid grace of a predator born to kill.
Blood drips from my claws as I stand among the fallen, my tribal markings casting crimson shadows across their broken forms. This is what I am—what I’ve always been beneath the careful control of a Brotherhood captain. A warrior. A protector. A mate who will tear apart the galaxy itself to reach the one who holds his heart.
Hold on, Neon.
The ship’s antiseptic air carries traces of ozone and something worse—the metallic scent of blood. Her blood. The knowledge feeds the darkness clawing at my soul, threatening to unleash something even I might not be able to control. But I can’t let rage blind me. Not when one mistake could cost Neon everything.
A security door blocks my path, its control panel pulsing with encrypted lockouts. I smile grimly, remembering how Neon would tackle such obstacles—her fingers dancing across interfaces while making sarcastic comments about outdated protocols. The memory sends fresh protective fury through me. I tear the panel free with my claws, using brute force where she would have applied finesse. The door sparks and dies, sliding open with a protesting groan.
Through the smoke-filled corridor, K’vex emerges like a nightmare made flesh. My markings pulse brighter as I take in the changes—fresh surgical scars threading across her carapace where gleaming metal now pierces organic tissue. Cybernetic ports dot her exoskeleton, their crimson glow a perversion of natural bioluminescence. The sight makes my stomach turn. They’ve already started transforming her into one of their soulless machines.
“I was wondering when you’d arrive.” Her voice carries that new artificial smoothness that sets my teeth on edge. All six hands move in unsettling patterns, their movements too precise, too calculated—like watching a puppet whose strings are pulled by cold algorithms rather than organic intent. “Your mate is quite resilient. The research division is particularly interested in how her neural architecture has adapted to your... primitive biology.”
My wings snap wide, tribal markings blazing with lethal intent as I face the traitor who handed my mate to these monsters. The metallic sheen creeping across her once-proud form only fuels my fury. This is what awaits Neon if I fail—this hollow shell where a warrior once stood.
“Protected me?” K’vex laughs, the sound like grinding metal. “The Brotherhood is dying, Thar’Kal. A relic desperately clinging to outdated notions of loyalty and honor while the galaxy evolves beyond you.” Her mandibles click with cruel amusement. “I simply chose the winning side. The Eclipse offers something far more valuable than your precious traditions—perfect order through perfect control.”
Her cybernetic enhancements pulse with an unnatural crimson glow as she studies me. “Though I must admit, watching your primitive mate-bond being dissected has been... fascinating. The way she screams when they probe her neural ports...” She tilts her head, all six hands moving in a mockery of sympathy. “Such a shame you weren’t there to protect her. But then, that’s what the Brotherhood does best, isn’t it? Makes promises it can’t keep.”
The words ignite something primal in my soul, awakening an ancient power that burns through my veins like liquid fire. My tribal markings explode with crimson fury, casting blood-red shadows across the sterile corridor as I launch myself at K’vex with lethal grace. My wings snap wide, their span filling the space as I channel centuries of warrior heritage into pure, unstoppable force.
K’vex’s eyes widen as she realizes her fatal miscalculation. Her six arms move in a blur, each wielding a different weapon with mechanical precision, but she’s fighting something beyond her algorithms and strategic projections.
I move like shadow and storm combined, my wings becoming razor-edged weapons as I weave through her defenses. Each strike carries the weight of my promise to Neon, each movement fueled by the desperate need to reach her. K’vex may be enhanced, may have superior technology, but she’s fighting against something primal, something that transcends her cold logic.
My claws tear through her reinforced armor like tissue paper, leaving deep gouges that spark and smoke. She staggers back, all six arms moving in desperate patterns as she tries to maintain distance. But I’m relentless, driven by a force deeper than conscious thought. The bond pulses through me like a star going nova, transforming my body into a weapon honed by love and fury.
“You calculated everything,” I growl, my voice carrying centuries of predatory power as I slam her against the wall, pinning four of her arms with my wings while my claws find her throat. “Except what it means to threaten a Kyvernian’s mate.”
Her mandibles click in desperate patterns as she realizes that all her betrayal, all her careful planning, has led to this moment. She’s about to learn exactly how fatal it is to stand between a warrior and his heart’s chosen.
My markings pulse with killing intent as I lean closer, letting her see the full depth of what she’s awakened. “You betrayed your own kind,” I snarl, feeling the rage surge through me like a force of nature. “The Brotherhood gave you shelter, protection, family—and you sold us to our enemies for power.”
The fight becomes a blur of violence and desperation. My claws find purchase in her new cybernetic enhancements, tearing through delicate circuitry. She screams, the sound more mechanical than organic, as sparks fly from damaged systems. But still she fights, all six hands moving in increasingly erratic patterns as her programming starts to fail.
“The Eclipse... will break you both,” she gasps out, mandibles clicking in dying defiance. “Your primitive bond... means nothing... against perfect order...”
I lean close, letting her see the cold fury in my eyes. “The bond means everything,” I growl. Then I tear out her primary control node, watching the light fade from her enhanced eyes as her systems crash into permanent shutdown.
The victory brings no satisfaction—only renewed urgency as another wave of pain pulses through our bond. Neon’s presence feels fainter now, her fierce spirit struggling against whatever horrors they’re inflicting on her. I leave K’vex’s broken body behind, following the pull of our connection through the sterile corridors.