The extraction lab was a cathedral of cold glass and humming white light. In the center stood two upright medical cradles, surrounded by a forest of needles and translucent tubes. The air was sterile, filtered to a degree that made Elias's lungs ache for the smoky, copper-scented air of the Sparrow.
"The biological sequence," Lyra whispered as the Wraiths forced them into the cradles. The magnetic cuffs snapped around their wrists and ankles with a finality that felt like the slamming of a tomb door. "He's talking about the Thorne Factor. My father used to mention it in the journals he left behind, but I thought it was just a theory on cellular regeneration."
"It's more than that," Elias said, turning his head to look at her. Their cradles were angled toward each other, so close that if he reached out, he could have brushed her hair. "He didn't just hide the code in us, Lyra. He hid the key to the sun in the people he loved most. He thought the Citadel would never find it if it was split between a Captain and a Rebel."
"He underestimated Valerius's hunger," she replied, her voice trembling but her gaze steady.
Valerius entered the room, now wearing a surgical smock over his uniform. He moved with the practiced grace of a man who viewed human life as a series of equations to be balanced. He tapped a glass screen, and the needles on the cradles began to hiss, priming themselves with an amber fluid.
"The process is quite elegant, really," Valerius said without looking up. "We will begin a synchronized transfusion. Your blood will be drawn, filtered through the Catalyst chamber to extract the dormant sequences, and then returned. However, the energy required to bridge the Thorne Factor is... intense. It creates a localized heat spike in the cardiac tissue."
"You said 'termination,'" Elias reminded him, his voice like iron.
"The heart cannot withstand the thermal load," Valerius confirmed, finally looking at them. "By the time the sequence is complete, your hearts will have essentially been cooked from the inside out. But the sun—the sun will burn for another millennium. A fair trade, wouldn't you say? Two lives for ten billion?"
"You don't care about the billions," Lyra spat. "You care about the throne. If the sun comes back, you're the god who brought it. You'll have eternal power."
"Power is merely the ability to ensure survival," Valerius said. "I am the only one willing to pay the price. Are you?"
He signaled the technician.
The first needle pierced Elias's neck. He gasped, a sharp, white-hot sting that radiated down his spine. Across from him, Lyra cried out as her own extraction began.
The room began to glow. Not with the artificial light of the ship, but with a deep, pulsing gold that seemed to emanate from their own skin. Elias felt a strange, terrifying sensation—a tether forming between him and Lyra. He could feel her pulse. Not just through the monitors, but in his own chest. Their heartbeats, once erratic and panicked, began to sync.
Thump-thump. Thump-thump.
"Elias," Lyra whispered. Her eyes were glazed with pain, but they were fixed on his. "I can feel you. I can feel... everything."
The "slow burn" of their attraction was no longer a metaphor. As the Thorne Factor began to bridge between them, a literal heat began to rise in the center of their chests. It was a searing, agonizing warmth, but it was also the most profound intimacy Elias had ever known. He could see her memories—the way the dust looked in the Fringe, the smell of the first rain on a colony world. And she was seeing his—the weight of his medals, the silence of the Citadel corridors.
In the middle of this torture, they were finally, completely one.
"Valerius!" Elias roared, his skin beginning to smoke. "If we're going to die, look us in the eyes!"
"I am looking at the future," Valerius said, entranced by the golden light filling the Catalyst chamber.
"Lyra," Elias gasped, fighting the urge to black out. "The data drive... it's still in my pocket. If we can... if we can disrupt the surge..."
"No," Lyra said, her voice sounding far away, echoing in his mind. "Elias, look at the monitors. The extraction... it's only at thirty percent. If we break it now, the sun dies forever. Everyone dies."
The choice was a jagged blade. If they fought, they might live, but the galaxy would freeze. If they surrendered, the man who ruined their lives would become a savior, and they would be ashes.
"I don't want to leave you," Elias whispered, a tear evaporating before it could even track down his cheek.
"You aren't leaving me," she said, a tragic, beautiful smile breaking through her agony. "We're the same light, Elias. We're just going home."
The heat intensified. The golden light turned into a blinding white. The monitors began to scream as their heart rates climbed into the danger zone.
Suddenly, the door to the lab exploded. Not from the outside, but from the inside—a malfunction in the ship's power grid caused by the massive energy draw. The Wraiths were thrown back.
In the chaos, Elias saw his chance. The magnetic lock on his right hand flickered.
To be continued....