Page 27

KAIRON

T he artifact hums louder now, its glow shifting from silver-blue to violet-gold, pulsing in time with my heartbeat. It vibrates beneath my skin, resonating with something primal deep inside me. A call I can’t ignore, one that feels almost familiar.

Ava stands just ahead, reaching toward the orb, her eyes wide with wonder.

I should stop her. Should warn her to wait until we know more about what this thing is capable of. But the words get stuck in my throat as a rush of adrenaline courses through me.

Then the explosion rips through the eastern wall.

Stone and metal scream as part of the ruin collapses inward. Shards fly like shrapnel, glinting in the artifact's glow. Instinct takes over—I throw myself toward Ava, shielding her as debris rains down around us.

She gasps, her breath sharp against my shoulder as I wrap an arm around her waist. I pull her close, my body blocking the worst of the falling rock. The ground shakes beneath us.

“Are you okay?” I growl against the chaos.

She nods, eyes wide and shaking but alive. Relief floods through me as I help her up without thinking, not releasing my hold on her just yet. My instincts scream to keep her safe—this human who’s become more than just a liability in a jungle filled with danger.

Then they flood into the chamber—mercenaries armed to the teeth, weapons drawn and intent clear: take the artifact and kill anyone in their way.

My grip tightens around Ava’s arm as we step back into the shadows cast by the collapsing structure.

I draw my blade with one hand, the familiar weight settling in my grip, and unclip my dagger with the other.

“Cover left.”

Ava's eyes flash. “I don’t have a weapon.”

“Leave that to me.” I press the dagger into her palm, feeling her fingers wrap around the hilt—a spark of determination igniting in her gaze.

In one fluid motion, I leap forward, steel glinting in the dim light as I plunge into the fray. Two mercenaries go down before they even register my presence—silent strikes to the throat, quick and clean. Their bodies crumple to the ground like discarded husks.

A flash of movement catches my eye; I toss a plasma gun back to Ava without breaking stride. It lands in her hands with a satisfying thud.

She doesn’t hesitate. In an instant, she moves into position, aiming with fierce precision, and pulls the trigger. The shot rings out—a bright arc of energy slicing through the air—and another mercenary drops, his screams swallowed by chaos.

We fight as if we’ve done this a hundred times—our movements synchronizing without thought. There’s no choreography; it’s instinctual, a primal rhythm built on trust forged in fire.

She covers my back while I press forward, every swing of my blade meeting flesh with brutal efficiency. I can feel her resolve behind me—her heart pounding just as fiercely as mine.

But they keep coming—more than I anticipated. The mercenaries are relentless, their faces obscured by helmets that reflect our frantic battle back at us. Some wield ion disruptors, weapons humming ominously with power that threatens both Precursor tech and anyone bonded to it.

One shot zips past my shoulder, sending a jolt of heat racing through me as I duck just in time. I spin on my heel and lash out at another attacker; he barely gets a shot off before my dagger finds its mark.

“Watch your flank!” Ava shouts just as another merc lunges at me from behind.

I pivot sharply and deflect his strike with ease before countering with lethal intent.

Her voice sharpens through the din of battle; every sound becomes part of our symphony of violence—grunts of effort mixed with sharp gasps of surprise from our enemies.

The chaos surges around me, adrenaline pumping through my veins like a live wire. I duck low to avoid another strike, my blade cutting through the air with lethal grace. Just as I take down another mercenary, a sound slices through the din—familiar bootfalls.

I turn my head slightly, and there it is: the unmistakable march of IHC soldiers. My stomach knots. The Alliance Standard commands echo through the chamber, sharp and authoritative.

“Seize the artifact. And the officer. Alive, if possible.”

The voice is unmistakable—Lieutenant Serix Vale.

Ava stiffens beside me; I can feel the tension radiate from her body. Something personal lingers in her expression—guarded, cautious.

My heart sinks further as I assess our situation. The mercenaries continue their relentless advance, but now they’re not alone. The IHC’s presence complicates everything, igniting a sense of urgency that claws at me.

“Damn it,” Ava curses under her breath, and I don’t need to ask what she’s thinking. She knows what the IHC does with things it doesn’t understand: they cage it. Or destroy it.

We fight back against the oncoming tide together for just a moment longer—our movements still synchronized—but then a surge of mercenaries separates us. I catch a glimpse of her fierce determination before she vanishes into the fray.

I curse under my breath as I carve through another attacker. The chamber feels too large now, too chaotic without her beside me.

“Keep moving!” I shout over my shoulder, though I can’t see her anymore. “Don’t stop!”

She won’t stop—not Ava Marlowe. Not when there’s something to fight for.

Ava’s voice carries through the chaos again—a fierce battle cry as she fights her way back toward me. The heat in my chest ignites anew; we have to get to that artifact before Vale can claim it for himself or worse—before he turns Ava over to be caged or destroyed like so many others before her.

Then comes the final blow: A third group breaches from the rear tunnels.

The air thickens, crackling with tension. I catch the glint of a familiar figure—Renn Dravik—his grin cutting through the chaos like a knife.

My crew. The sight churns my stomach.

“I knew you’d sniff out something good, old friend,” he calls, his voice oozing with smug confidence.

I grit my teeth. My second-in-command now wears the guise of a self-appointed captain, but he’s always been driven by greed and ambition.

Three factions converge in this room, each with their own agenda. My crew’s arrival complicates everything—and it pulls Ava deeper into the chaos.

The artifact pulses violently, responding to the emotional storm around it. The energy in the room shifts, amplifying as cracks spiderweb through the surrounding pylons. A shriek echoes in my ears; it feels like the ruin itself is crying out against the impending violence.

Ava stands resolute beside me, her breathing steady even as I can feel her panic lurking beneath that calm exterior. She trusts me. Relies on me to protect her from all of this. But how can I do that when everything is falling apart?

I glance between the artifact and Ava, caught between two worlds—the past I can’t escape and this fragile alliance we’ve built in this hellish jungle.

Renn gestures wildly at his men as they flood into the chamber, weapons drawn and intent clear. They’ll take what they want without hesitation—leaving nothing but bloodshed in their wake if they have to.

“No more time,” I think sharply as I assess our surroundings—the chaos converging around us while the artifact screams for attention.

We need to act before everything collapses under its own weight.

I look at Ava again; she meets my gaze head-on, that fierce spirit igniting something deep within me—a spark that refuses to dim even amid destruction.