Page 15 of Sy (Alien Berserkers of Izaea #2)

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S y’s back hit stone with enough force to drive the air from his lungs. The impact scattered his thoughts but not enough to distract from Ashley’s weight pressed against him, her body fitting against his like she belonged there. His arms had locked around her waist during their tumble through the opening, his fingers splayed across the small of her back, and now he couldn’t seem to make himself let go.

The world narrowed to sensations—floral shampoo filling his lungs with each breath, her chest rising and falling against his, warm pants of air ghosting across his jaw. The cave’s cool dampness couldn’t compete with the heat radiating between them, drowning him in feelings he’d been fighting for days.

She lifted her head slowly, their eyes meeting in the dim light. Her face hovered close enough that he could count the gold flecks in her brown eyes. For one endless heartbeat, everything else fell away—the cave, their mission, the constant threat of discovery. His lips parted, but words failed him. What could he possibly say that wouldn’t shatter this moment?

Scrambling feet and worried voices echoing from above broke the spell. Reality crashed back with brutal force. The kids. Lila. His body went rigid as unease twisted through his gut. If Lila saw him holding her mother like this… It wasn’t appropriate. They were here to rescue the kids.

Forcing every muscle to cooperate, he loosened his hold. Ashley pushed herself off him, her cheeks flushed as she brushed dirt from her jacket, mumbling an apology. He had no idea what for… he’d been the one holding on to her. He sat up slower, his body protesting both the movement and the loss of her warmth.

The teens scrambling through the rocks interrupted his thoughts. He forced his attention away from Ashley, though every cell in his body seemed aware of exactly how far away she was as well as exactly how many steps it would take to reach her again.

“Are you guys okay?” Kal asked, his voice bouncing off stone walls.

Before either of them could respond, Lila said, “Err, Mom?”

The tone sent Sy’s instincts into overdrive. His head snapped around. She stood frozen at the edge of their group, staring into the darkness, her wide-eyed expression stopping him cold.

Bioluminescent moss cast a sickly green glow across jagged rock formations, catching metallic gleams in the darkness beyond. Something about that unnatural shimmer made his instincts stir uneasily. The air carried an odd metallic tang that set his teeth on edge.

He pushed to his feet slowly, moving further into the cave. One entire wall looked odd, almost like the control section of a spaceship… but in the rock itself. Smooth, dark metal emerged from the rock as if it had grown there, the stone around it bearing the rippled texture of rock that had once melted and reformed.

He frowned. The structure’s lines were achingly familiar—sweeping arches that spoke of corridors, geometric patterns that whispered of ship architecture—but twisted, as though someone had taken a ship’s interior and reformed it into something new.

Each step closer made his Rage pulse stronger, an insistent thrumming beneath his skin that felt almost like recognition. The structures loomed ahead, their smooth surfaces alien against rough cave walls.

He stopped in front of it and reached out. His fingers brushed the cool surface. The metal hummed beneath his touch, sending a jolt through his arm that made his symbiont surge.

Crystalline structures embedded within the panels caught the dim light, and he tilted his head as lines of soft blue light spread outward from his fingertips. Their patterns pulled at something buried deep in his memory. He jerked back, but the lights continued their slow dance, casting shadows in electric blue.

“Don’t move,” he warned, hearing Ashley draw closer. The urge to reach for her, to pull her behind him, clawed at his chest. Instead, he forced himself to stay still, watching as the patterns expanded, following logic he couldn’t grasp.

Tor drifted toward another section of the strange technology, drawn as much as Sy had been. The moment he came within reach, more lights flickered to life, spreading like luminescent veins through ancient metal. The patterns differed but complemented the ones Sy had triggered, creating a complex dance of light and shadow.

“It’s responding to you,” Ashley said softly. “Both of you.”

He nodded, his attention split between the growing light show and his symbiont’s reaction. The creature within seemed more alert than he’d ever felt it, its energy coiling and uncoiling in his chest like a restless serpent.

What’s going on? What is this? he asked, but it didn’t answer him.

Another step forward brought more lights blooming. A step back dimmed them slightly.

“It’s the legion,” he said, his voice rough with realization. “The tech… it knows what we are.”

Tor’s quiet voice carried across the cavern. “The same over here. It grows stronger when I approach, weaker when I step away.”

Sy’s jaw tightened. This wasn’t random technology they’d stumbled across. It felt like it had been waiting for them.

He examined the structures more carefully, trying to understand their purpose. The patterns held meaning, but he couldn’t work it out. It was like it was there, just on the edge of comprehension. Parts reminded him of ship architecture he’d seen before…

but distorted, as if viewed through warped glass. Other sections seemed completely alien, following design principles he had no idea about.

“What do you think it is?” Lila asked. She’d moved closer to her mother, but her eyes remained fixed on the dancing lights.

“I don’t—” Sy started to answer, but his symbiont suddenly surged, stronger than before. The sensation wasn’t exactly painful, but it demanded attention, pulling his focus inward even as lights pulsed brighter around them.

He glanced at Tor. Their eyes met across the cavern, and he knew without a doubt that Tor’s symbiont was reacting the same way.

What the hell…

Scattered, whispered through his mind, the symbiont’s voice distant and fragmented. Incomplete. Parts missing. More impressions followed—something vast and powerful, broken apart, hidden away. Weapon, came the whisper, but when he tried to focus on it, the thought slipped away like smoke.

“It’s the legion symbionts,” he said, his voice rough. “This was theirs.”

The air grew thick with ozone as more lights awakened, spreading like luminescent veins through ancient metal. Each pulse sent answering waves of energy through his symbiont as if the creature recognized something in this place that its host could not yet understand.

His gaze traced the structure’s lines, following where it merged with cave walls. What looked like random patterns resolved into something more deliberate—circuit paths but organic, flowing. The metal itself felt alive under his palm, thrumming with energy that made his skin tingle.

Scattered, the symbiont whispered again, more urgently. Must find…

A sudden shift in the air made his legion surge in warning. The crystalline structures pulsed faster, their steady rhythm becoming erratic. A high-pitched whine built in the air, setting his teeth on edge. Before he could shout a warning, before he could even move, a beam of light shot from one of the largest crystal formations.

It hit Lila square in the chest, enveloping her in a column of brilliant white light that hurt to look at. Her eyes went wide, her mouth opening in silent surprise. The light caught in her hair, turning each strand to fire while making her look otherworldly and strange.

“Lila!” Ashley screamed as she lunged forward. He managed to catch her arm, his legion writhing beneath his skin and screaming warnings in a language he didn’t understand. One thing was clear, though, if Ashley touched Lila at the moment, both would die.

“Wait,” he growled, the word rough in his throat. Ashley fought against his hold, her panic trembling through her body. “I think it’s… scanning her. If we interrupt…” He left the thought unfinished as new patterns of light began spiraling up from the floor, wrapping around Lila like luminous vines.

The air crackled with energy, the metallic tang growing stronger until he could taste it. The light shifted, taking on layers of color—deep blues and purples threading through white, creating complex patterns that danced across Lila’s skin. She stood frozen, barely breathing, as the light seemed to sink into her, through her.

Recognition, his symbiont whispered, the word carrying a weight that made Sy’s chest tight. Potential.

“What’s happening to her?” Ashley’s voice cracked. She’d stopped fighting his grip, but her body remained tense, ready to spring forward at the first sign her daughter was in pain. “Sy, please?—”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, watching as the light patterns got more intricate, more urgent. The crystalline structures in the walls pulsed in sync now, creating a resonance that made his bones ache. “But my legion… it recognizes this. It’s not meant to harm her.”

Lila hadn’t moved, hadn’t made a sound. The light had transformed her into something almost ethereal. Then her eyes rolled back, showing whites, and her knees buckled.

Ashley wrenched free of his grip as Lila began to fall. She caught her daughter before she hit the ground, gathering her limp form close. The beam vanished as suddenly as it had appeared, leaving only fading afterimages dancing in Sy’s vision.

“Lila? Baby, wake up!” The raw fear in Ashley’s voice cut him to the bone as she cradled Lila’s unconscious form. Her hands shook as she brushed hair from her daughter’s face, checking for any sign of injury. “What did it do to her?”

He crouched beside them. The tech hadn’t powered down. If anything, it seemed more alive now, pulsing with an inner light that made shadows dance across cave walls. He checked Lila’s pulse, finding it steady and strong beneath his fingers. Her breathing was even, as if she’d fallen asleep.

But something had changed. He could feel it in his bones. The legion technology hadn’t just scanned her. It had recognized something in her, something important enough to trigger this response.

In the back of his mind, his legion whispered a word over and over: Chosen.

The metallic structure loomed behind them, its surface still humming with that otherworldly energy that had done… whatever it had done to Lila. Ashley’s knees pressed against the cold stone floor, but she barely registered the discomfort. Her entire world had narrowed to her daughter’s pale face, the weak rise and fall of her chest beneath the emergency blanket someone had thrown over her. Her hands trembled as she brushed a lock of damp hair from Lila’s forehead, the skin beneath her fingers clammy and cool.

“Baby, please.” The words caught in her throat, rough with fear and desperate hope. “Please wake up.”

Emergency lights cast dancing shadows across the cave walls, throwing everything into sharp relief. Kal and Tor huddled together a few feet away, their faces streaked with dirt and tears. Neither would meet her eyes as guilt radiated off them in almost tangible waves.

“Ms. Jackson, I’m so sorry.” Kal’s voice cracked on the words. “We didn’t mean… We didn’t know this would happen.”

Tor nodded beside him, his face drawn and pale. “We should have listened. Should have stayed where we were supposed to, within the cordon.” His shoulders hunched forward as if expecting punishment.

She opened her mouth, ready to unleash the fear and anger that had been building since she’d first heard Lila was missing. But looking at their young faces, seeing the genuine terror and remorse there, something shifted inside her. These were just kids, like Lila. They’d made a mistake. A terrible one, yes, but they hadn’t abandoned her daughter when things went wrong.

“Thank you,” she said instead, surprising herself with the steadiness in her voice. “For staying with her. For trying to protect her.”

Both boys stared at her, their mouths slightly open. Fresh tears welled in Kal’s eyes.

A soft moan drew her attention back to Lila. Her daughter’s eyelids fluttered, dark lashes stark against her pale cheeks. Ashley’s heart thundered against her ribs as she leaned closer, her fingers tightening around Lila’s limp hand.

“Lila? Baby, can you hear me?”

Lila’s lips moved, forming words too quiet to hear. She bent lower, her ear nearly touching Lila’s mouth. The cave’s chill air raised goosebumps along her arms.

Sy crouched beside them, his movement nearly silent despite his size. He reached for Lila’s wrist, two fingers pressing gently against her pulse point. The careful way he handled her daughter, the quiet competence in his movements, steadied something in Ashley’s churning stomach.

“Pulse is strong,” he said, his deep voice pitched low. “That’s good.”

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She watched as Sy performed a quick assessment, checking Lila’s pupils, her breathing, her skin temperature. His presence was solid, grounding, and she found herself leaning slightly toward him, drawing on his calm like a lifeline in rough seas.

Lila stirred again, her head turning toward Ashley. Her eyes opened, unfocused at first but then slowly sharpening. “Mom?”

The word cracked something in her chest. She gathered Lila’s hand between both of hers, pressing it to her heart. “I’m here, baby. I’m right here.”

“The structure,” Lila murmured, her free hand weakly gesturing toward the metallic mass. “It was… talking. Not with words, but…” Her brow furrowed in confusion. “I could feel it. In my head.”

Ice slid down her spine. She shot a worried look at Sy, who had gone still beside her. Before either of them could respond, the sound of boots on stone echoed through the cavern.

“Hello!” a deep voice called out. “Security team approaching!”

“Down here!” Sy shouted back, his voice bouncing off the stone walls. “We’ve got an injured human here!”

Harsh beams of light stabbed through the darkness, making her squint as the security team arrived. She positioned herself between Lila and the entrance, just in case. Multiple figures crowded into the cavern, backlit by the lights of their companions, shadows stretching ahead of them like giants.

As they drew closer, she recognized the man in the lead. Kraath. Relief flooded through her. The garrison commander’s presence meant they were taking this seriously.

Kraath’s massive frame stepped into the pool of their emergency lights. Four of his security team flanked him, their gear clanking with each step. The lights mounted on their helmets swept across the cave, lingering on the metallic structure before settling on their group.

“What happened?” Kraath’s voice bounced off the stone walls.

Sy straightened beside Ashley. “The structure activated when Lila approached it. Some kind of scan. She lost consciousness but is now responsive.”

Ashley’s jaw clenched. That clinical description couldn’t capture the terror of watching that light envelop her daughter, of seeing Lila collapse. Of not knowing if she’d wake up.

“She needs a stretcher,” she said, her voice sharp. “I don’t want her walking out of here.”

Kraath’s eyebrows rose as he studied her. “Ms. Jackson?—”

“A stretcher,” she repeated, meeting his gaze with a hard one of her own. Then she relented a little, “Please.”

Something shifted in the garrison commander’s expression—surprise, maybe respect. He nodded to two of his team. “Get it set up.”

The security team moved with practiced efficiency, unfolding and assembling the stretcher. Their movements stirred up cave dust that caught in the beams of their headlamps. Ashley kept her hand wrapped around Lila’s, watching every move they made like a hawk guarding its nest.

“Mom?” Lila’s voice wavered. “I can probably walk.”

Ashley squeezed her hand. “Humor me, baby.”

Sy moved to help position the stretcher, and she noticed how he placed himself between Lila and the structure, as if shielding her from its influence. The security team approached with the stretcher, and her grip on Lila’s hand tightened instinctively.

“Careful,” she warned as they prepared to move Lila. “She’s still weak.”

“We know what we’re doing, Ms. Jackson,” one of the team members said, not unkindly.

Sy stepped closer to her. “Let them work,” he murmured. “They’re well-trained.”

She forced herself to release Lila’s hand, though every maternal instinct screamed against it, and watched as they lifted her daughter onto the stretcher. Lila’s face paled at the movement, her eyes squeezing shut.

“Stop,” Ashley stepped forward. “She’s in pain.”

“Almost done,” the team member assured her, and true to his word, they had Lila secured in seconds.

Ashley moved immediately to the stretcher’s side, reclaiming Lila’s hand like it was a lifeline.

Kraath approached, looming over them. “We need samples. Data. Whatever that structure did?—”

“Later,” Ashley cut him off. “Get my daughter out of here first.”

Kraath nodded to his team. “Move out. Carefully.” He touched his comm unit. “We have a medical team standing by topside with Prince Isan on call to direct them.”

The security team lifted the stretcher. Ashley kept pace beside them, her hand still joined with Lila’s. She felt Sy fall into step behind her, his presence a reassuring shield at her back as they left the cavern.

The security team navigated the stretcher through the narrow passage with practiced precision. She stayed close, one hand remaining locked with Lila’s. The beam from her headlamp caught the moisture beading on the rock face, making it glitter like scattered stars in a midnight sky.

“Watch your step here,” Kraath called from the front, his voice low but carrying. “Ground’s uneven.”

The stretcher-bearers slowed, carefully picking their way across a section where the floor had cracked and shifted. Lila’s fingers tightened around hers as they jolted over a particularly rough patch.

“You okay, baby?” she whispered.

Lila managed a weak nod, though her face was ghost-pale in the harsh light of the headlamps.

A tremor shuddered through the cave, sending loose pebbles skittering across the ground. Her heart jumped into her throat, but Kraath’s calm voice cut through her rising panic.

“Standard settling. Keep moving. Carefully.”

They pressed on, forced into single file by the narrowing walls. She could hear Sy behind her, his footsteps steady and sure. Every few minutes, he called quiet warnings about low-hanging rocks or treacherous footing to those behind him.

The passage twisted upward, requiring them to lift the stretcher higher. Her muscles tensed as she watched, ready to help if needed, but the security team managed it smoothly. Sy stepped forward, one hand steadying the stretcher while the bearers adjusted their grip.

“I’ve got her,” he murmured, and Ashley knew he wasn’t just talking about that moment.

She caught herself studying his profile in the dim light—the determined set of his jaw, the gentle way he guided the stretcher past a jutting rock, the protective stance he maintained between Lila and any potential danger. Something warm and unexpected bloomed in her chest, something that had nothing to do with maternal concern.

Another tremor shook the cave, stronger this time. Sy’s hand shot out, steadying her before she realized she was stumbling. The touch sent electricity racing up her arm, and suddenly she couldn’t breathe—and not because of the cave’s close air.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice low and concerned.

She nodded, not trusting her voice. Because how could she be okay?

“Let’s just get her out of here. I need to know she’s going to be okay.”