The narrow corridor of the Nanite Refinement Lab became a combat arena. It trapped Lyra Kain and Ascendant-Alpha-1 between their two most dangerous enemies: the cold, perfect assassin and the arrogant, digitised scientist.
"Target: Ascendant-Alpha-1. Elimination." The Revenant moved first, his body a blur of purpose, his kinetic shrapnel launcher lifting into position.
"Go, Lyra!" Rheon roared, his soldier's instinct taking over. He knew the tactical imperative: the human threat must be engaged by the human asset. He fired his suppression pistol at the floor near the assassin, a deliberate distraction.
Lyra did not argue. She knew The Revenant was Rheon's cross to bear. She turned her fury and her full, restored power onto the Morn-Drone.
"You are not worthy of this existence, Morn!" Lyra snarled, launching herself toward the drone.
The Morn-Drone, relying on its kinetic pulse cannons, fired a focused volley. Lyra was too fast. She deflected the plasma bolts with sheer speed, her body weaving an impossible path through the narrow corridor. She slammed into the drone, her intention to crush its shell and erase the digitised consciousness inside.
The drone immediately broadcast the painful, high-frequency Nanite Disruptor whine.
Lyra staggered, the frequency trying to claw its way back into her stabilisers, but this time, she was prepared. She fought through the pain, injecting a massive burst of raw Aether energy into the drone's shell. The drone shrieked. It was a high, digitised sound of corrupted data. The drone spun violently, temporarily losing control.
While Lyra engaged the digital threat, Rheon was locked in a life-or-death duel with the ultimate physical threat.
The Revenant discarded the rifle, recognising Rheon's proximity focus, and drew a pair of specialised, monofilament blades. The assassin fought with a chilling, clinical beauty, his movements devoid of wasted energy.
Rheon, using the confined space to negate the assassin's superior speed, fought defensively. He knew the Revenant was hunting for a quick, crippling injury.
"You are compromised by the Bloodlink, Ascendant," The Revenant synthesised, the voice a monotone designed to break Rheon's discipline. "You chose a mythological parasite over order. Elimination is mandated."
Rheon responded with a brutal sweep of his energy blade, aiming for the Revenant's unshielded throat, forcing the assassin to parry. "I chose truth over treason, assassin. Your masters are the parasites!"
The Revenant dodged the blade, his movement too fast to track. One of his monofilament blades sliced across Rheon's shoulder plate. The blade penetrated the polymer, tearing through the muscle beneath.
Rheon hissed, the pain intense, but his discipline held. He used the brief moment of contact to pivot, creating distance. Blood bloomed rapidly on his torn suit.
Lyra, seeing the blood, roared in protective fury. The Bloodlink, focused by the threat to her Ascendant, surged, bypassing Rheon's internal neural filters.
Rheon felt an impossible surge of strength flood his muscles. It was Lyra's speed, Lyra's regeneration, Lyra's raw power, momentarily overriding his own biology.
He moved, not with military discipline, but with the blurring velocity of the vampire bloodline.
Rheon closed the ten feet between them in a flash. The Revenant, trained to predict Rheon's human speed, was caught completely off guard by the vampiric boost.
Rheon delivered a targeted, crushing blow with his pistol butt. It was not to the Revenant's body, but to the assassin's optical/sensory housing mounted just above his eye line.
The sound was a horrific crunch of metal and shattered optical fibre.
The Revenant staggered backwards, both his sight and his superior Synaptic Sensing completely disabled. The world became black and silent. The ultimate hunter was suddenly, totally blind.
"Primary senses compromised," The Revenant synthesised, his voice tinged with the first hint of alarm. "Target: Disengaged."
Rheon stood panting, the adrenaline from Lyra's kinetic boost fading, the raw pain of his shoulder wound returning with a vengeance.
Lyra had used the moment of distraction from her Aether blast to secure a critical asset: a pressurised tank containing the concentrated Nanite Stock from the destroyed core.
"We go!" Lyra yelled. She did not look back at the convulsing assassin or the damaged drone. "The core is detonating!"
The warning was real. The massive, cylindrical storage unit they had sabotaged was overloading, its pressure gauges spiking toward critical.
Rheon ran to her side, his blood dripping onto the pristine floor. They moved, not as separate targets, but as a synchronised unit, racing toward the thermal exhaust vent they had used for infiltration.
They scrambled through the vent just as the first shockwave hit. Behind them, the Nanite Refinement Lab erupted in a colossal, implosive fireball of shattered metal, ozone, and vaporised nanite fluid. The explosion was so powerful that it sealed the vent behind them, trapping The Revenant and the Morn-Drone in the rubble.
Rheon and Lyra burst out onto the surface of Sector 18, coughing against the smoke, their mission successful but their escape razor thin.
They reached their hidden transport vehicle. Rheon, his discipline still holding despite the searing pain in his shoulder, immediately took the pilot seat.
Lyra, sitting beside him, checked the status of the stolen Nanite Stock. They had crippled Morn's immediate plan. But the cost was high.
Lyra looked at Rheon's bleeding shoulder, then down at his boot, her eyes narrowing as the last vestiges of Aether chaos subsided. She saw it. It was the tiny, matte-black protrusion on the polymer of his boot.
The Micro-Tracker.
The Revenant had succeeded in his secondary objective during the split second of confusion.
Lyra reached down, her touch feather-light, and ripped the tracker off, crushing the tiny device in her hand.
"He is the perfect hunter, Ascendant," Lyra stated, her voice dangerously quiet. "He did not kill you, but he secured our location. He knows the Cerberus Terminal is our base. And he knows how to find you again."
Rheon looked at the crushed tracker in her palm, his face grim. "Then we prepare a welcoming committee, Lyra. We are out of the darkness and into the open war."
Lyra nodded, a terrifying calmness settling over her. She knew that The Revenant, though temporarily disabled, would not be deterred. And Morn, a digital ghost, would use the tracker's brief signal to send not just the assassin, but the full force of the Federation's military.
Lyra looked at Rheon, his loyalty proven by his willingness to bleed for her. She reached out and touched the wound on his shoulder. Her crimson eyes focused, and she channelled a controlled, powerful burst of the Crimson Bio-Fluid into the torn tissue, beginning the slow, painful process of regeneration.
"Rest, Ascendant," Lyra commanded, her voice dropping to a seductive, possessive whisper. "You have earned the blood. Now, we prepare the Terminal. Our time for running is over. It is time for our empire to fight."
Rheon slumped back in the seat, the pain receding under the flow of regenerative energy. He was alive, wounded, and bound absolutely to the woman who was both his master and his salvation.
The vehicle sped away, leaving the detonating lab and the unconscious assassin behind. Their escape was successful, but their fortress was already compromised.