The Moon Palace's fire suppression systems kicked in with a hiss, spraying a fine mist over the wreckage. It did little for the smoke, the sparks, or the pervasive smell of scorched royal carpeting. Aetherion, completely unfazed by the chaos he had inadvertently created, was still chewing his pancake as Lyra grabbed his wrist. Her grip was firm, strong, and entirely serious.
"We need to move," she said, her voice low and urgent as she tugged him toward the still-sparking doorway she'd come through. The plasma blast had not only made an entrance but had also fused the door's frame in a twisted, useless mess.
He resisted just long enough to stab another piece of pancake with his fork. "You said there'd be more pancakes. I'm trusting you on this."
"More pancakes if you're alive," Lyra shot back, her starlight-colored eyes narrowing in frustration. She dragged him through the ruined corridor, weaving past toppled candelabras and cowering council dignitaries. "And let me be clear—we're not getting pancakes if we're both arrested and turned into space-dust."
Behind them, the Grand Chancellor's voice, now a shrill, hysterical shriek, echoed over the palace comms, equal parts fury and desperation.
["Alert all sectors! Aetherion of Nowhere is to be stopped at all costs! He is to be considered a Level-Omega Threat! And that woman—Starbane—she's aiding him!"]
The alarm klaxons changed tone, a deep, resonating hum that signaled a Level-Ω lockdown, the highest alert status in the entire sector. Aetherion glanced at Lyra as they ran, casual as if they were jogging through a park.
"Ω is bad, right?"
"It means every security force in the city will be on us in about thirty seconds," she said, not even looking at him as she checked the charge on her twin pistols. "And given the kind of collateral damage you've caused, they'll be authorized to shoot first and ask questions never."
"You good at running?" she asked, a genuine question this time.
"I'm great at breakfast. Running? … eh."
Lyra suppressed a groan and, with surprising strength, shoved him into a narrow service shaft. They slid down a maintenance chute, a gritty metal tube that felt nothing like the luxurious palace above. They landed in a heap in the underbelly of the Moon Palace—a sprawling network of pipes, catwalks, and utility tunnels dimly lit by flickering neon strips. The air was thick with the smell of ozone and old dust.
Somewhere above them, they could still hear the distant rumble of military drones activating, the sounds of their rotors a steady, growing threat.
Meanwhile, the System, ever the helpful, chaotic guide, chimed in.
[New Side Quest: Escape the Palace Alive!]
[Reward: One stack of Extra-Fluffy Quantum Pancakes™ (limited edition)]
Aetherion perked up instantly, his face a picture of newfound determination. He no longer looked tired or bored; he looked like a man with a mission. "Alright, now it's personal."
Lyra, who was busy trying to find a clear path through the maze of pipes and wires, raised an eyebrow. "You're more motivated by breakfast than survival?"
"Survival is temporary. Pancakes are forever," he said, his voice completely serious.
They moved quickly through the labyrinthine tunnels, Lyra's knowledge of the palace's layout, gleaned from a dozen old bounty hunter schematics, proving invaluable. Her boots were silent on the metal catwalks, while Aetherion's caused a faint *clank, clank* that he seemed completely oblivious to.
They burst out into a large loading bay where a sleek, battered starship sat with its ramp extended. Its hull was a patchwork of scorch marks and dents, a testament to a long and dangerous career. A hand-painted name was scrawled across the side in defiant red paint: *The Starbreaker*.
Lyra gestured sharply. "In. Now."
Aetherion hesitated, looking at the ship with the same critical eye he used to judge a donut. "Not bad. You named her yourself?"
"Yeah. Why?"
"Looks more like a 'Pancake Express' to me."
"Get in the ship before I shoot you," Lyra growled, though there was the tiniest twitch of a smile at the corner of her lips. She had to admit, the name wasn't entirely unfitting.
As they sprinted up the ramp, a squad of palace guards, heavily armed and armored, spilled into the loading bay. Plasma rifles, sleek and deadly, were raised, and bolts of searing blue energy hissed through the air. One shot, aimed with terrifying precision, grazed Aetherion's jacket, singeing the denim.
He stopped mid-run, a look of profound betrayal on his face. He stared at the small, smoking hole in his sleeve. "That was my favorite jacket."
Then, without warning, he flicked his fingers—just a tiny, lazy motion—and the guards' rifles crumpled into perfectly folded origami cranes. The sleek, deadly weapons were instantly replaced by harmless paper birds. The guards stared at their useless, paper-thin weapons in utter confusion.
Lyra didn't even slow down, her face a mask of weary acceptance. "You're going to explain how you did that later."
"Only if there are pancakes involved."
The Starbreaker's engines roared to life, a magnificent sound of defiance and freedom, as Lyra launched them off the Moon Palace docks. The ship shook as they accelerated, breaking free of the Level-Ω containment fields. Through the viewport, the silver spires of the lunar capital fell away, replaced by the black expanse of space and the majestic glow of the nebula.
Aetherion slumped into the co-pilot's chair, finally at peace. He looked out at the streaking stars, a contented sigh escaping his lips. "So… where to now?"
Lyra adjusted the throttle, her eyes on the starfield ahead. The bounty on Aetherion was still flashing on her internal HUD, a ten trillion credit promise that she had no intention of collecting. "There's a station on the edge of the Drakon Rift. It's a big trade hub. Good place to lay low… and maybe pick up a few high-paying bounties."
"And pancakes?" he asked, a hopeful note in his voice.
Lyra smirked, the corners of her lips finally turning into a full, genuine smile. "If you're lucky."
Aetherion leaned back with a satisfied grin, staring at her profile as the stars streaked past. Maybe this "partnership" wasn't such a bad idea after all. It was chaotic, it was dangerous, and it was probably going to get him into more trouble than he could imagine. But for the first time in a while, it wasn't boring. And there was a promise of pancakes.