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The female appears oddly peaceful, drifting amidst countless stars of the cosmos. Peace is the furthest thing from my mind now; only a seething hatred sustains me, knowing I am responsible for this tragedy.

My attention snaps back to the ship. Somehow, the Gods favor Carmen; she has managed to seal the docking hatch.

A tragic disgrace the foolish human didn’t before.

The vessel floats, carried by its initial momentum, and for a fleeting moment, I hope one of the junker ships might retrieve her if I act quickly.

But that hope dies as the ship’s hyperdrive ignites.

It vanishes in a blinding streak of green.

I whirl around, a murderous fury boiling within me, storming toward the damaged docking hatch door. “Keth, turn the fleet around. Pursue Carmen’s ship,” I command through my warvisor. There is still time—still a chance to catch her before she’s lost to the stars.

What madness drove them to this? Was I so cruel that they’d risk almost certain death to escape my protection? Human madness. Stark, raving insanity.

The docking bay door now opens at last—Keth has finally managed the override.

Too late. These inexperienced youths cost me precious seconds.

Costing lives. This entire hunt has been an utter disaster.

With Kazumi dead and Carmen likely lost, my chances of completing the Mortakin-Tok are dwindling. Arawnoth punishes me for my weakness.

Perhaps I am not worthy after all.

Princesa collapses to her knees, her forehead pressed against the viewport, wailing frantically. “No, Kazumi... Oh God! No!” she sobs, her voice broken, her breath hitching between the shaking cries.

My lips twist with rage at her pathetic weeping.

“Where is your elation now, female?” I roar, my voice echoing with crimson fury.

“Did it freeze in your throat like the blood in Kazumi’s veins?

” The words spit from my mouth like boiling poison, my molten heart pounding as if it will shatter my chest.

Why would they do this? Why risk everything for such stupidity? I shake my head, unable to fathom the madness.

Princesa’s silver eyes, red and raw, snap to mine. “It wasn’t my fault! Carmen wouldn’t listen!” she wails, collapsing further to the floor, reaching out desperately for my leg. Her body trembles, her breath a series of broken gasps as if she might retch.

I step back, disgusted by her wretched display. Her lies and her complicity nauseate me. It should have been her on that doomed ship, not Kazumi. “Yet, instead of telling me of their foolish plans, I find you among them,” I snarl.

My words strike her like a blow, and she crumples, her crying intensifying.

Then, soft footsteps draw my attention—Sandra, breathless and wide-eyed, rushing toward us.

Her appearance makes my blood boil. She’s the one who convinced me to release the females from their cell.

Another moment of weakness that has cost us dearly.

I knew it was a mistake the instant I spoke the words, yet I let these females manipulate me with their soft hearts and pretty faces.

“What’s happened?” Sandra demands, her face tight with worry, eyes darting between Princesa and me. “Tell me!”

“Kazumi’s dead, and Carmen’s gone!” Princesa shrieks, gesturing wildly to the viewport.

Sandra rushes over, staring out into the void of space. “No!” she screams, a hand flying to her mouth. “No... please, God... no.” Her head shakes, disbelief contorting her features.

They’re like two fools lamenting the loss of life after detonating a virus bomb.

“Your God cannot help her now,” I sneer down at the pair, my molten fury spilling from my eyes.

Sandra looks at me, shocked and weeping, while Princesa drowns in her own endless ocean of tears.

“Come,” I command, seizing the pair in my unbreakable grip, throwing them over my shoulders.

Sandra struggles, uselessly thumping against my back, daring to utter a stream of demands to be released. Princesa has regressed into a quivering mess, sobbing uncontrollably. I carry them back toward their cell—the place where they should have always remained.

As I march down the corridor, filtering out their irksome noises, a new, infuriating realization dawns on me—the ship has not changed course. Not only have the females defied me, but now even my own warriors disobey me!

“Keth, you dare defy my command? Why hasn’t the fleet turned?” I send my threatening thoughts through my warvisor. Every moment wasted is another stone for Carmen’s tomb, but the emotionless youth lacks the urgency to act.

“Ignixis forbids it. He has assumed control of navigational systems.” Keth’s lifeless thoughts come through, a stark contrast to the blazing rage that ignites in my heart.

Ignixis, that old, treacherous vipertail, dares override my orders at this crucial moment?

The walls feel like they’re closing in, each surface pressing down with another layer of betrayal.

My mind reels, trying to make sense of it all.

Still, I maintain my swift pace toward the cells between here and the command bridge. I’ll deal with Ignixis’s treachery once I’ve secured these tiresome humans. Their incessant wailing and protests grate against my ears, pulling me away from my thoughts.

“Put me down, Dracoth,” Sandra pleads yet again, her tone now shifting from aggression to a meek, desperate plea. “Please.”

Put her down? So she too can get herself killed?

No. These females cannot be trusted. If I must, I will bind them to me by chain.

Even their chaotic emotions are weapons, a clever strategy probing the walls of my resolve for holes—but they will find none.

My heart is now an impenetrable fortress of molten hatred and regret.

“What... What happened to Kazumi?” Sandra tries another tactic, invoking the bitter memory.

“And... Carmen... I don’t understand what the hell happened!

” She thrashes against me, dangling over my shoulder like a fresh kill.

But she is feeble; she cannot break free.

None of them will taste freedom again. Not until I complete the Mortakin-Tok. “Someone, please tell me!”

She seeks to distance herself from the blame—a clever ploy, but it will not work. “Seek your answers from her,” I snarl, nodding toward the weeping Princesa, almost limp, sobbing against me. “I tire of your bleating.”

“Alexandra?” Sandra questions, her voice faltering in the cold, dark corridor. The only answer is Princesa’s crying, mingled with the echo of my thundering steps. Soon we’ll reach the cells, and then I’ll rip the truth from Ignixis’s treacherous heart. My Rush flares at the thought.

“Dracoth... I don’t understand... Please don’t do this. Don’t hate me,” Sandra pleads, tugging at my heart, searching for a softness that has long since been burned away. Krogoth was the first inferno; this treachery is the final conflagration, leaving nothing but bitter ashes and dying embers.

“I didn’t do anything!” she shrieks, finally succumbing to her tears, adding to the cacophony of human wailing that assaults my ears.

It is nauseating. This tiresome sound of rank fragility endlessly spewed forth.

An affront to my molten soul. It only fuels my fury and hastens my steps.

I suppress a sigh of relief when their cell finally comes into view.

Soon I’ll be rid of the noisy pair who remind me of my failures and shame.

I manipulate my wrist console, sending the bars crashing down, moving to deposit the females on the cold, unforgiving metal floor.

Sandra wipes the tears from her eyes, her expression hollow as she retreats into the darkened corner. Princesa clings to me, her fingers digging into my arm with a desperate strength, as if I were the only thing keeping her from plunging into the abyss.

I grimace, prying her grip free, each tiny finger released only making her wails more pitiful. How unfortunate that she never thought to seek my presence earlier... The bitter thought flares like a fresh wound, burning hotter as I drop her to the floor.

I leave them there, crumpled in their misery, to contemplate the price of their foolishness. I send the bars upward—the sound ringing with finality.

Sealed. Until we reach Klendathor.