Chapter 62 - Attack (8)

The forest was alive with chaos as Maria, Marcus, and the remaining members of Natasha's unit faced off against the remaining mob of hooded figures.

The Fantasians were relentless, their weapons gleaming as they charged forward.

But the cadets were stronger, their training and teamwork shining through even in the heat of battle.

Maria hesitated for a moment as she faced her first opponent.

Her vines had already ensnared one of the hooded figures, their body immobilized.

She could feel their fear, their desperation, and it made her pause. But Marcus's voice cut through her thoughts.

"Maria! Now's not the time to hesitate!" he shouted, his hands crackling with electricity as he fried another attacker.

Maria clenched her fists, her vines tightening around the hooded figure.

With a deep breath, she crushed them, the sound of bones breaking echoing in her ears.

She felt a pang of guilt at what she just did, but she pushed it aside. This was war, and she couldn't afford to be soft.

Marcus was a whirlwind of destruction, his electrokinesis frying anyone who got too close.

The other members of Natasha's unit fought with equal ferocity, their weapons cutting through the mob with brutal efficiency.

As the Fantasians were outmatched, their numbers obviously dwindled rapidly.

By the time Lucas arrived, dragging an unconscious Lyra in tow, the mob was no more.

The ground was littered with bodies, the air thick with the scent of blood and burnt flesh.

Lucas looked around at the carnage, his expression unreadable but his eyes filled with a quiet sadness.

"This didn't have to happen," he muttered, more to himself than anyone.

Marcus scoffed, kicking a fallen dagger aside. "Tell that to them. They attacked us." He nodded at Lyra. "And she's our ticket to answers. Let's wake her up."

Before Lucas could protest, River and Alicia returned, the latter grinning. "Took care of my mutt," Alicia said, though her smile faded when she saw Lyra. "Where's golden boy?"

River avoided their eyes. "Renard's… gone." The lie hung heavy, but no one pressed.

Lyra, now conscious, spat at the ground, her eyes filled with defiance. "You think I'll talk, never, I'll never talk," she snarled.

"You dogs of Terra, you spawns of the devil—you think you can break me? You're nothing but monsters!"

Lucas sighed, his voice calm but firm. "This is a bad idea. We should just leave her for the instructors. They'll be here soon."

Marcus raised an eyebrow. "And when will that be? We don't have time to wait around."

Lucas didn't respond, his silence speaking volumes. Marcus stepped forward, his expression hardening. "If you won't do it, I will."

Lyra laughed, a bitter, mocking sound. "And what happens if I don't talk? You'll kill me? Go ahead. I'm not afraid of you."

Before Marcus could respond, a round projectile came flying out of the woods at high speed.

It landed in front of Lyra with a sickening thud, rolling to a stop at her feet.

At a closer look, they saw that it was Jero's head—battered, bruised, and unmistakably lifeless.

The cadets froze, their eyes wide with shock. Lyra's laughter died in her throat as she stared at the severed head, her bravado crumbling.

Just then, a voice cut through the silence, cold and menacing. "Then you'll face the same fate as him."

Blood seeped into the soil as Nathan stepped from the shadows, his katana glinting and suit streaked with gore.

His wings, still unfurled, dripped crimson at the tips.

His expression was calm, but his eyes burned with intensity.

He walked forward, his footsteps deliberate and heavy, until he stood in front of Lyra. He tilted his head slightly, his voice low and dangerous.

"Now talk."