Page 21 of Sy (Alien Berserkers of Izaea #2)

21

A nother explosion rocked the garrison above, sending tremors through the ancient stone. Lila winced as each blast vibrated through the cavern floor and into her bones. Her mom was up there somewhere, fighting the Purists while she was down here with their only chance of survival.

The alien tech dominated the cavern like a sleeping giant, its surface dark and silent. For now. Around her, Kraath and the men with him worked with quiet efficiency, setting up the last pieces of equipment they’d brought to help her interface with the weapon.

If she could interface with it. If she did it right.

If she didn’t fail everyone counting on her to make this work.

A violent explosion shook loose a shower of dust and pebbles from the cavern ceiling. Her gaze flew to the ceiling of the cavern as she imagined what that blast might have done to the people above. To her mom.

“Readings are stable,” Kraath announced calmly. “Primary interface is ready.”

Ready .

The word echoed in her mind as she stared at the alien tech, its surface reflecting the dim emergency lighting like black glass. They’d told her she could do this, that she was the only one who could, but now that the moment had arrived, her legs felt like lead weights. The responsibility of what they needed to do—what she needed to do—pressed down on her chest until each breath was a struggle.

Boots crunched on stone behind her. She turned to find Tor behind her, his red eyes fixed on her face with an intensity that was purely his own, not the legion thing inside him. The fact that he was there made her feel more comfortable, even before he reached for her hand.

The warmth of his fingers closing around hers cut through the cold fear in her chest. When he smiled, it transformed his whole face, softening the sharp angles and making him look younger, more human.

“I’m scared,” she admitted, the words barely audible over the distant sounds of battle and humming equipment. She didn’t have to explain for whom. Tor’s grip tightened, telling her he understood. They all had people they cared about fighting above.

“We just step into the light and let it take over. Okay?” His voice carried no doubt, no hesitation. Just certainty, and something else—trust. Trust in her, in what they were about to do. Kal appeared on her other side, his hand finding hers and completing their connection.

Together, they faced the ancient weapon that could save them all. The tech’s glow intensified, and a beam of light—just like the one that had changed everything for her before—cut through the darkness of the cavern. A hum of power filled the air, vibrating through the soles of her boots. This was it. This was their chance to end the battle above, to save everyone—if she could do what they needed her to do.

The spotlight settled on them, and her heart thundered. This was why they were here. This was what they’d prepared for. She squeezed both hands that held hers, drawing strength from their presence as they took their final step forward.

The beam enveloped them in brilliant light, and her world exploded into sensation. One moment she was herself, contained within the boundaries of her own skin, and the next?—

She was everything.

The transformation swept through her like a tide, washing away all limitations. She was the planet beneath her feet, every grain of soil, every blade of grass, every creature that walked its surface. She was the ancient tech buried in its depths, a vast network of power and knowledge threading through the world like veins of gold through stone. She was legion itself, consciousness expanding until the very concept of individual identity seemed like a distant dream.

Understanding crashed over her in waves. Legion’s origins, its purpose, its very nature unveiled themselves in her mind with crystalline clarity. As her awareness expanded further, pinpoints of light bloomed before her consciousness—a living map of the galaxy, each bright spot a beacon of legion DNA.

She saw them all. An elderly male, his weathered hands tending crops on a distant farm, the legion presence in him a quiet hum. An infant, barely more than a few months old, sleeping peacefully in his crib while the legion’s potential waited dormant in his cells. Her consciousness swept outward, faster than thought, until?—

Earth.

Her first home appeared before her, a blue marble suspended in space. But where the Lathar worlds blazed with countless points of light, Earth held only a scattered few. The few carriers of legion DNA glowed like lonely stars in a vast dark sky, hidden, their potential yet to be realized.

The galaxy map stayed vivid in her mind, each point of light a story, a life, a potential waiting to be realized.

She saw the truth of what legion was, what it had always been—not a parasite, not a mere tool, but a bridge between worlds, between species, between past and future.

And now she was the bridge, holding within herself the power to shape the destiny of worlds.

You think this is all you are?

The voice in her head was ancient and powerful but comforting, like her mother’s voice. Like her own voice as she imagined it when she was older.

Then reality twisted, the galaxy map dissolving like stars at dawn, and she stood atop a mountain peak beneath an alien sky. For a moment she could only stare at the changed world around her, trying to orient herself in this new space.

Three suns painted the landscape in shades of amber and gold, their light reflecting off countless pieces of armor below. The army stretched as far as she could see, filling the vast valley that spread out from the mountain’s base. Row upon row of warriors stood at attention, their presence a physical weight in her mind. Not just soldiers—they were her soldiers. The knowledge settled into her bones with absolute certainty, though she couldn’t have explained how she knew.

The air here held the sharp bite of approaching winter, carrying with it the metallic scent of weapons and armor, the musk of alien beasts used for transport, the subtle electrical charge that always accompanied large gatherings of warriors. Each breath filled her lungs with these forgotten scents, triggering memories that felt simultaneously ancient and brand new.

We are legion. You are legion personified.

Power hummed through the mountain beneath her feet, through the air itself—the same frequency from the alien tech in the garrison cavern. This was where it had all begun, where legion had first gathered its forces. The memory of it resonated through her entire being. It was as if her cells themselves remembered standing on this spot, preparing to face an enemy whose name had been lost to time.

The army below shifted as a single unit, the movement rippling across their ranks like wind through a field of grass. Their minds touched hers, each connection bright with loyalty and purpose. The weight of their trust, their absolute dedication, should have been overwhelming. Instead, it felt like coming home—like remembering who she had always been meant to be.

Yessss…

She wasn’t alone on the mountaintop. Two presences stood with her, their energies familiar even in this dream setting. She turned, finding two huge legion warriors beside her. Tor and Kal… as solid here as they had been in the cavern. Their forms shifted, the dream state overlapping the legion warrior versions of them with the boys themselves as if the dreamscape couldn’t quite decide which to show her.

Tor’s red eyes met hers, and his smile held both recognition and something deeper—understanding. When he spoke, his voice was as ancient and terrible as the one in her head.

“Welcome back, Your Highness.”

The ancient battlefield faded, but the sense of command, of absolute control, remained.

She was the planet now, every particle of its being an extension of her will. Through legion, she felt it all. The orbital platform’s weapons charging, preparing to rain death upon the surface. Upon her people. The warship’s engines burning hot as it maneuvered into position.

Anger surged through her. White hot and terrible.

Destroying them was as natural as breathing. A thought and power surged through the ancient tech, through her, through the planet itself. She reached up with hands made of energy and will, and simply…

Crushed them.

The orbital platform crumpled like paper in a fist, its supposedly impenetrable shields meaningless against technology older than their civilization.

The warship tried to flee, engines flaring desperate and bright against the darkness of space, and she smiled, catching it just as easily. Metal twisted, engines exploded, and both threats disappeared in spectacular blooms of light against the stars.

In the mindscape, she turned to Kal and Tor and smiled. She could do so much more, so much more?—

Then the universe blinked out between one heartbeat and the next.

The sky above them lit up with fiery Armageddon. The orbital platform’s destruction painted the heavens in shades of orange and crimson, burning debris carving blazing trails through the darkness like falling stars.

The enemy is no more… His legion’s voice cut through his paralysis with crystal clarity. He blinked, dully realizing that the orbital platform was gone. They’d succeeded. Kal, Lila, and Tor had completed their mission.

The realization barely registered before panic seized his chest, crushing the air from his lungs as he dropped his gaze back down to the battlefield in front of him. Through the rain of fire and ash, the gun emplacement where Ashley had been was nothing but twisted wreckage, flames licking at its remains.

“Ashley!” His voice tore from his throat, raw and desperate, as he launched himself to his feet. The battlefield before him was a hellscape of shattered metal and hungry flames, smoke coiling upward to meet the burning sky. “ Ashley! ”

He sprinted across the charred earth, each step carrying him over treacherous debris. Focus. Listen. Your mate needs you. The voice in his mind was calm, a stark contrast to the chaos raging in his chest. But how could his mate need him when she was dead? He had to find her. Had to find her body.

His boots slipped on ash-slicked ground, but he caught himself, refusing to slow.

Through the chaos of destruction—the groan of collapsing metal, the distant explosions as more debris rained down, the crackle of flames—Zeke’s voice cut across the field. “Sy! Over here! I have her!”

Relief and terror warred in his chest as he vaulted over a section of scorched metal. The blinding smoke burned his lungs, filling his mouth with the taste of destruction, but he pushed through it. His legs burned as he scrambled over the remains of the gun emplacement, sharp edges tearing at his clothes and skin.

There, behind the wreckage, lay Ashley. Blood streaked one side of her face, matting her hair and staining the collar of her jacket. He froze, his eyes wide. She was still. Too still. The sight of her motionless form sent ice through his veins. Michelle sat next to her, holding a dressing against the side of her head.

“They leapt clear.” Zeke, crouched beside Ashley, looked up. His voice cut through Sy’s panic. “She’s injured but alive. We need to get her back to the garrison. Now. ”

Alive. She was alive.

His mate was still alive.

“Let me have her. You get Michelle.”

Sy’s hands trembled as he gathered his precious mate into his arms, cradling her against his chest as if she were made of glass. Her head lolled against his shoulder, and the weight of her—so precious, so terrifyingly vulnerable—drove him to his feet with fierce determination. She’s strong, his legion murmured. She’ll recover. Move now. Protect your mate.

Above them, the sky continued to burn, but he only had eyes for her, searching desperately for any sign of consciousness as he turned toward the garrison. Each second she remained still was an eternity of fear, each breath she took a desperate relief.

Every step up the rain-slicked stone road toward the garrison felt like a lifetime. His muscles screamed in protest as he carried her, but he refused to slow his pace even as his boots threatened to slip on the wet steps. She needed treatment in the garrison. Now.

His legion’s steady voice helped him focus through the haze of smoke and the last spattering of rain. Keep moving. One step. Then another. She needs you strong. You’ve got this. We’ve got this.

Above them, the garrison’s automated defense systems came to life. Gun batteries tracked and fired at the falling debris from the orbital platform, transforming the larger fragments into harmless clouds of metal rain before they could threaten the construction site or the garrison itself. Each explosion lit up the sky in brief, brilliant flashes, the thunder of their firing nearly drowning out Zeke’s footsteps behind him.

“I called ahead. The main hall is prepped,” Zeke said between the sounds of the defense systems. “We’ll have her stable soon.”

He nodded but couldn’t find his voice to respond. His entire world had narrowed to the feeling of Ashley’s heartbeat against his chest and the looming silhouette of the garrison ahead. The stone steps seemed endless, yet he couldn’t move fast enough. He almost stumbled when his boot caught on a rain-slick edge.

Steady. Almost there.

The rain was finally easing as they reached the garrison’s entrance, though water still dripped from his hair and clothes. They were barely through the door when Kraath’s imposing figure blocked their path, his expression hard. “Report. Are the Purists neutralized?”

Sy froze, Ashley’s limp form in his arms. Before he could respond, M’aac, one of the warriors who had fought at his side on the construction site, stepped in front of him.

“Commander.” M’aac inclined his head. “I’ll provide a full briefing on the invader situation.” He gestured toward a side corridor, already launching into a detailed account of the battle.

Sy nodded his thanks to the warrior and carried Ashley to the main hall, now transformed into a medical ward with cots lined up in neat rows. He laid her down with infinite care, his hands lingering on her shoulders. The side of her face was caked with dried blood, mixing with the rain water that had soaked them both. His chest tightened at the sight.

She’s safe now. Let Zeke work.

Zeke moved with practiced efficiency, his hands gentle but sure as he examined Ashley’s injuries. The minutes stretched like hours as Sy watched, unable to do anything but stand guard.

She’s strong, his legion soothed. Your mate will survive this.

His hands clenched into fists at his sides, every gentle probe of Zeke’s examination feeling like an eternity.

Breathe, his legion commanded softly. Your fear serves no purpose here. Trust in her strength.

“Head wound, but not as severe as it looks,” Zeke finally said, cleaning the blood from Ashley’s face. “Likely concussion, some burns, but nothing life-threatening. She’ll?—”

The hall’s entrance filled with another arrival, cutting off Zeke’s words. Tor burst through, carrying Lila. Like her mother, she was unconscious. The sight of her pale face sent a fresh wave of fear through Sy’s heart—not just for his mate now but for her offspring. His new daughter.

Tor laid Lila carefully on the cot beside Ashley, his movements gentle despite his size as Kal hovered anxiously on the other side. Sy found himself caught between them, one hand reaching for each of them instinctively. The gesture felt natural, protective—a father watching over his family.

She carries a legion now, his own legion observed as Lila’s eyes flickered open briefly. The dull red of her irises confirmed what his legion had sensed. Like you. Like the two younglings.

“What happened?”

“She was perfect,” Kal said quietly. “Took control of the weapon, destroyed them all. Then just… collapsed.”

Sy’s throat tightened as he watched Lila turn her head slightly, her dull red eyes finding Ashley beside her. A faint smile curved the girl’s lips before she closed her eyes again.

Zeke moved between the cots, his examination of Lila as thorough as it had been with Ashley. Tor and Kal stood nearby, their presence a silent support as Sy kept his vigil between mother and daughter.

The defense guns had fallen quiet now, the worst of the orbital platform’s debris dealt with, leaving only the soft sounds of breathing and medical equipment in the hall.

He sank to his knees between the cots, his hands finding Ashley’s and Lila’s. He began to pray, calling on every god and goddess he knew, every power that might listen. His legion’s presence wrapped around him like a warm blanket, its voice joining his silent litany.

They will recover, it assured him. Your family is here. They are safe.