Page 13

Chapter13

ANYA STIFFENED beside Tor’Vek, instinctively pressing closer. He shifted in front of her without thought, his stance shielding her body from the projection, though it posed no immediate physical threat.

A jagged surge of light pulsed through the chamber—erratic, sharp, followed by a sputter of static. The hologram collapsed, then re-formed with a crackle of light.

Selyr’s figure sharpened into view, more stable now, yellow eyes gleaming with delight. He didn’t smile—not yet. He savored .

“Ah,” he said, his tone low and crawling. “Iprojected the odds of one of you surviving the crash landing at sixty percent. Both? Forty. So this is quite remarkable.”

Tor’Vek said nothing, but the heat under his skin grew molten. He stood locked in readiness, his senses razor-sharp with threat, every nerve drawn tight like a bowstring ready to snap. The urge to lunge, to rip apart the smug image before him, thundered inside him, feral and rising.

He flexed his hands at his sides, the sinew in his forearms like cables strained to rupture. His breathing slowed, every exhale a battle against the instinct screaming for release. He stood locked in place, vibrating with fury barely leashed, awar machine held together by discipline—and crumbling inch by inch under the strain.

Anya, pulse hammering, lifted her chin and snapped, “Your experiments are going to fail, Selyr. You’re not as brilliant as you think.”

The hologram’s head tilted in mock sympathy. “Ah, the fragile human, still clinging to hope. How adorable.”

Tor’Vek surged forward a step, ajagged snarl ripping low in his throat—asound closer to a growl than speech. Lethal fury pulsated through him, his body ready for a fight.

Selyr chuckled, agrating sound that buzzed and warped through the unstable transmission before stabilizing again. His figure sharpened with malicious clarity, his expression twisted in open enjoyment of the fury he’d provoked.

Only Anya’s trembling hand, brushing lightly against Tor’Vek’s clenched forearm, kept him from lunging. Her touch was a fragile thread of warmth against the blaze of his rage, atether he did not know he needed until it was there. His muscles vibrated with restrained violence, but her fingers—small, steady, human—leashed him more effectively than any chain. The killing instinct wavered, then receded, forced back by the bond sparking between them, fierce and stubborn in its own right.

Selyr cocked his head. “You’ve noticed the shift, haven’t you? The cravings, the rage. The way the bond claws at you, physically and emotionally, every time you try to fightit.”

Tor’Vek’s voice cut in—quiet but sharp. “We have noticed.”

“You did this,” Anya said, voice shaking but steady. “You changed something in the bracelets, didn’tyou?”

Selyr’s smile widened, slow and cruel. “Of course I did. Alittle override embedded under the primary logic layer. You did not think I would let the two of you simply bond in peace, didyou?”

Anya muttered beneath her breath, “It would have beennice.”

He gave a soft, condescending sigh. “It would have been—entertaining—to see you fail on your own. But no, Idecided to accelerate the process. Your precious bracelets now betray you with every heartbeat. Craving. Rage. The more you resist, the faster youburn.”

Anya’s breath hitched. Her gaze darted to her bracelet. The silver surface shimmered with faint white light, the runes etched along it shifting subtly. “What do you mean... burn ourselves alive?”

“Oh, didn’t I mention?” He clicked his tongue. “How could I have forgotten? Your bracelets now have a countdown cycle which I’ve activated.”

“Acountdown to what?” Tor’Vek demanded, voice rough with barely leashedfury.

“Ah, so delicious.” Selyr’s tone turned singsong. “Acountdown until the bracelets explode.”

Tor’Vek took another step forward, the craving in his chest surging—hot, corrosive, impossible to contain. “How do we stopit?”

The scientist tilted his head to one side, mockery gleaming in his gaze. “Why do you think youcan?”

Anya cut in, her voice sharp and defiant. “Because dead subjects don’t generatedata.”

Selyr’s smirk flickered. Barely. But Tor’Vek saw it. That slip in confidence.”Clever, clever girl. Yes, it’s possible there’s a way to stop the countdown, but it won’t be easy.” His smile turned razor-sharp. “You’ll be pleased to know I’ve taken the liberty of accelerating the instability cycles. Craving. Rage. Desire. Destruction. All feeding into each other, growing louder the longer you fight them. Should you surrender to your needs—your craving—the countdown only accelerates.”

Tor’Vek took a single step forward, muscles locked. “You fucking piece of shit,” he snarled, the words tearing from his throat, raw and brutal. “When I find you, Selyr, Iwill tear you apart with my bare hands.”

The hologram rippled with amused contempt. “So emotional. So crude and basic.” He gave a mock shiver. “Ilove it. It will make your inevitable detonation so much more... spectacular.”

Tor’Vek surged another half-step, muscles bunching to strike, rage clawing up his spine.

Anya’s trembling hand skimmed against his forearm—afeatherlight touch. He stiffened, breath heaving, fury poised to ignite.

Tor’Vek exhaled through his teeth, forcing the killing urge down. The tremor in his arms stilled, eased by her fragile, steadying presence.

Selyr’s hologram tilted its head, voice laced with mockery. “That’s right, primitive human. You creatures know all about raw emotion. You excel at it. But for an Intergalactic Warrior to sink to such brutish lows—how exquisitely humiliating.”

Anya’s lips curled into a cold smile. “Funny. You talk a lot for someone who hides behind projections.”

The hologram flickered, Selyr’s eyes narrowing, the amusement bleeding into something harder—aflash of real anger, brief but unmistakable.

Tor’Vek straightened subtly, sensing the shift—and smiling, grim and silent.

“Where was I?” Selyr went on, with forced cheerfulness, “There is a way out for you two. The ship’s central stabilizer was, regrettably, destroyed in the crash. Fortunately, there is a backup located at a remote access panel. Seven kilometers northwest. Buried in a valley system laced with rock storms and structural collapse.”

Tor’Vek’s voice sliced into the silence. “How do you know about the stabilizer?”

Selyr’s grin sharpened. “Because I gave it a little… encouragement. Your ship’s primary stabilizer had a perfectly healthy operational life expectancy—until I embedded a microscopic stress fracture in its core matrix. Under the strain of atmospheric entry, it was only a matter of time before it burned out.” He chuckled, low and cruel. “Asimple push in the right place. Physics did therest.”

Tor’Vek’s jaw tightened, but his voice emerged cold and measured. “You tampered with our systems while we were still imprisoned. Forced our ship to this planet and then destroyed our primary stabilizer, stranding us here. How long have you been planningthis?”

Selyr lifted a brow, mock innocence etched across his face. “Oh, long enough. Long enough to ensure you’d be crazed with rage and craving, and beautifully dependent on one other. It’s all part of the experiment, after all. The real question is—how long can you last before you destroy yourselves?”

“The countdown,” Anya stated flatly.

“Exactly,” Selyr continued, savoring every word. His eyes gleamed with malice. “Fortunately for you, there is that backup stabilizer I mentioned. But one misstep, and either the environment will kill you... or your emotionswill.”

His grin widened. “As you humans say... tick tock. The countdown has already begun. Forty-eight solar units, give or take. Retrieve the part, reinstall it, and perhaps the installation will pause the countdown—assuming you survive long enough to findout.”

A pulse of white light surged from the bracelet on Tor’Vek’s wrist.

48:00:00

Anya gasped.

Selyr leaned in slightly, voice dropping. “I’d say good luck, but… you will not survive long enough for luck to matter.”

The hologram wavered—and vanished.

Silence thundered in the chamber.

Tor’Vek stood frozen.

The tendons in his arms stood out like cords. His breath hissed between his teeth. Muscles rippled with the effort not to tear the nearest console off its hinges. The faintest tremble ran down hisarms.

He was losing the battle.

Anya cast one last lingering look at the space once broadcasting Selyr’s hologram and brought her attention back to Tor’Vek. She stepped to him, slowly, and laid a shaking hand against his forearm. Not gripping. Just touching.

His jaw tightened further.

But he didn’t pullaway.

The tremble stilled.

For a breath.Two.

And then, quietly, he lowered his fists.

Not a surrender.

A choice.

Hope.

ANYA CROUCHED beside the half-scorched supply crate as she worked through twisted metal and dust. Her pulse hammered in her throat, matching the erratic surges of heat and craving pulsing from the bracelet locked around her wrist.

“Found ration cubes,” she said, forcing her voice steady. “Not many, but they’ll keep us moving.”

Tor’Vek took them silently, but his hand swept against hers—adeliberate, necessary touch—and for an instant, the crushing pressure inside her chest eased. His attention was fixed on the schematic projected from his rij. It hovered in the air above his forearm, glowing pale blue. The glow stuttered in and out of focus as if struggling against the chaos building insidehim.

He pointed to a blinking node. Aknot tightened in Anya’s stomach. Seven kilometers through hostile territory. Then a maze of darkness and uncertainty. For a heartbeat, the sheer scale of what lay ahead threatened to swamp her—acold wave of fear breaking over the bond. She clamped it down, swallowing it hard, and focused on the steady pulse of contact with Tor’Vek.

“The access panel Selyr indicated is seven kilometers northwest of this location.” He pointed. “Once we reach it, we will enter the subterranean sector. The final destination lies approximately 1.3 kilometers east, through these unmapped corridors.”

She tucked more rations into a sturdy pack she’d scavenged, her hands pressed against his wrist again, purposefully. Without the contact, aclawing, aching need flared inside her chest, making it hard to think, hard to breathe. “What are the odds we can make it without more surprises?”

He didn’t answer immediately. He moved to the ruined shelf near the far wall, retrieving a glow strip and testing it with a twist. It lit faintly, casting their strained faces in an unsteady light. “Unmapped means undocumented threats. The path may include structural failure zones, automated defenses, or living organisms unrecorded by baselogs.”

“Great. So... best-case scenario, we get lost. Worst-case, we get eaten.”

The words came out brittle, but she pushed through it, jamming a few wire spools and a battered multi-tool into the bag. Her shoulder bumped his arm—intentionally, selfishly—because without it, the craving clawed higher, hot and greedy, scraping along her nerves.

“How long will ittake?”

“Several solar units to reach the access panel. Longer if resistance occurs or the terrain impedes us.” He reached into another storage locker and removed a handful of small, round balls, stuffing them into his vest pocket. “From there, another solar unit through the underground maze—assuming we find apath.”

He shifted, touching his shoulder deliberately against hers in turn, and she saw it—the brief flicker of relief in the rigid set of his mouth, the slight loosening of his fists. The bond throbbed, hungry but momentarily sated by touch.

Tor’Vek pulled a sheathed sword from the weapons locker—the blade straight and gleaming despite the battered scabbard. He strapped it to his back with practiced ease, then reached into a side compartment and withdrew a compact solar gun. It emitted a faint, rising hum as he powered it up, athin line of blue light pulsing along the length of the barrel before it steadied. Satisfied, he holstered it at his hip. Every movement efficient. Controlled. But she could see the strain in the tension ripping at hisbody.

He paused and glanced at her—no, studied her, as if checking to make sure she was still there. “You will stay behind me. If an attack occurs, you will not attempt to engage.”

“Iget it, okay? You’re the walking weapon. I’m the... irrational emotional human liability.”

He tilted his head, the briefest flicker of something like confusion crossing his face. “You are correct about the first part. But incorrect about the second.”

A raw, aching warmth flared low in her chest—apulse that had nothing to do with the bracelet.

Anya turned away quickly, double-checking the contents of the pack. Med disc. Glow strips. Sufficient water for twenty-four hours. Or solar units. Ration cubes. Not enough. Not nearly enough. Her breath caught in her throat, and she stole another touch—her knuckles grazing hisarm.

Instant relief.

The bond’s craving ebbed just enough for her to focus.

“What about tools for the panel? Iassume it’s locked. Sealed from the inside? Or accessible from the outside?”

Tor’Vek crossed to a secondary bin, retrieved a plasma cutter, and handed it to her. His fingers connected with hers during the exchange, deliberately slow, and the desperate tension coiled inside her chest eased again.

“If power is still active at the access point, this will work. If not, we will find another solution.”

“Likewhat?”

“Destruction.”

He turned back to the ruined storage lockers and dug through a hidden compartment, retrieving a compact demolition device—aflat black disk barely larger than his palm, covered with faintly glowing runes. It vibrated weakly in his grip, emitting a low hum that seemed to pulse in time with the bracelet on his wrist, promising power and devastation in equal measure. He tucked it into his belt with the same quiet precision.

“Resonance charge. If necessary, it will obliterate the access panel and anything blocking ourpath.”

She arched a brow, the brief spark of normalcy reassuring her. “Vague but reassuring.”

He paused by the exit, his gaze sharp and unfaltering—but the muscle in his jaw ticked. She knew the bond was clawing at him,too.

Anya shifted closer as she tightened the pack across her shoulders. His fingers closed around hers for an instant. Both of them inhaled sharply at the flood of craving tinged with hints of rage. It surged through the bond—hot, unrelenting, desperate to devour.

For one breathless second, neither moved. The craving wasn’t just physical. It wanted dominance, surrender, fusion. Then, with iron control, it ebbed—not vanished, but leashed.

“Are you ready?” he asked, voice low and rough.

She should have said no. Her heart slammed against her ribs, warning her, begging her to stop. She wasn’t a soldier. She wasn’t ready for what waited for them. But she swallowed hard, squeezed his hand one last time, and nodded.

“Let’smove.”

They stepped into the corridor together, the stale air closing around them like a warning. Neither spoke. Neither needed to. Every shift of her hand against his, every deliberate touch kept the craving at bay—barely.

Anya felt the temperature drop as they passed through the warped frame of the bulkhead. The silence out here was different. Dense. Like the ship itself was holding its breath.

She didn’t look back. Couldn’t. Whatever they’d just built between them—fragile, electric, barely stable—was all they had. And it had to be enough.