Chapter 04

crumbling northern gate. Fires raged, the flames licking at the edges of the ash-choked city as Ronan’s forces clashed with Izael’s soldiers. The clang of metal on metal, the screech of biomechanical limbs, and the guttural roars of combatants blended into a chaotic symphony of war.

From her vantage point on the eastern battlements, Lila’s heart clenched. She could see Ronan at the forefront, his glowing energy pulsing through the dark haze like a beacon. Every swing of his blade cut through the enemy, his movements a deadly combination of power and precision.

She turned to the grizzled commander beside her. “Where’s the second wave?”

“They’re holding back,” he replied, his voice strained. “Izael’s forces are tighter than we anticipated. If we deploy now—”

“If we wait, they’ll overrun him,” she snapped.

The commander hesitated, his gaze darting between her and the battlefield. She wasn’t a warrior, wasn’t part of their chain of command, but there was something in her voice that brooked no argument.

“Send them,” she said firmly.

The commander barked orders into his communicator, and within moments, reinforcements poured from the eastern gates, joining the fray below.

Ronan felt the shift before he saw it. His reinforcements surged into the fight, flanking Izael’s forces and cutting through their ranks with brutal efficiency.

He glanced back at the battlements, his sharp eyes finding Lila. She stood tall, her auburn hair whipping in the wind, her expression fierce. Pride swelled in his chest, mingled with frustration. She was brave—too brave for her own good.

But his moment of distraction cost him.

An explosion rocked the ground, throwing him off balance. He barely had time to react before a massive figure loomed over him—one of Izael’s elites, a hulking soldier encased in biomechanical armor. The enemy swung a colossal blade, and Ronan blocked just in time, the impact sending a jolt through his body.

“You’re not invincible, Zombie King,” the elite sneered, his mechanical voice grating.

“Neither are you,” Ronan growled, surging forward with renewed fury.

The clash was brutal, each strike reverberating through the air. Ronan’s energy flared, his silver eyes glowing as he pushed his body beyond its limits. Finally, with a roar, he drove his blade into the elite’s chest, shattering the armor and sending the soldier crumpling to the ground.

But the victory was short-lived.

A deafening explosion erupted near the northern gate, and Ronan turned just in time to see it collapse. His forces scattered, retreating from the onslaught of Izael’s soldiers pouring through the breach.

They had lost the gate.

The council room was a storm of voices, every advisor shouting over the others as they argued about the battle’s aftermath. Ronan stood at the head of the table, his jaw clenched, his silver eyes flashing with barely restrained fury.

Lila entered quietly, her heart sinking at the sight of the battered warriors and bloodstained maps.

“We need to regroup—”

“We need to retaliate—”

“Silence!” Ronan’s voice thundered, cutting through the noise.

The room fell silent, all eyes turning to him.

“We lost the gate,” he said coldly. “But the battle isn’t over. Izael will push forward, thinking us weak. We’ll use that arrogance against him.”

The advisors nodded, murmuring their agreement. But as the discussion resumed, Lila noticed the tension in Ronan’s shoulders, the way his fists clenched at his sides.

When the council adjourned, she approached him cautiously.

“You did everything you could,” she said softly.

He turned to her, his expression unreadable. “It wasn’t enough.”

“You can’t control everything,” she replied, placing a hand on his arm.

His gaze dropped to her hand, and for a moment, the hardened mask slipped. “You were right about the reinforcements. If you hadn’t acted...” He trailed off, his voice heavy with unspoken emotion.

“You don’t have to do this alone, Ronan,” she said, her voice firm but gentle.

He stepped closer, his imposing frame looming over her. “You keep saying that,” he murmured, his silver eyes locking onto hers. “But every time I let someone close, I lose them.”

Her chest tightened at the raw vulnerability in his voice. “I’m not going anywhere,” she whispered.

He reached out, his hand brushing her cheek. The heat of his touch sent a shiver through her, but before either of them could speak, a sharp knock interrupted the moment.

“Enter,” Ronan barked, his tone snapping back to command.

One of his advisors stepped in, his expression grave. “We have a new problem.”

The advisor, a wiry man named Varen, hesitated before continuing. “We’ve intercepted a message from within our ranks. Someone has been feeding information to Izael.”

Ronan’s eyes darkened. “Who?”

“We don’t know yet,” Varen admitted. “But the leak allowed Izael’s forces to target the gate with precision. If we don’t find the traitor—”

“I’ll find them,” Ronan said coldly, his voice like steel.

Lila watched the exchange, her mind racing. The betrayal explained the coordinated attack, but it also added another layer of danger.

“Can you trust your advisors?” she asked after Varen left.

Ronan’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I don’t trust anyone, Lila. Not fully.”

Her stomach sank at the weight of his words.

As the palace prepared for the next attack, a strange energy pulsed through the air. Lila felt it first—a faint vibration that made the hairs on her arms stand on end.

“Do you feel that?” she asked Ronan as they stood on the battlements.

He nodded, his expression grim. “It’s not Izael.”

A sudden burst of light illuminated the horizon, and a massive ship descended from the clouds. Sleek and angular, it bore no resemblance to the scavenged vessels used by Izael’s forces.

Ronan’s soldiers scrambled, their weapons raised as the ship landed just outside the city. The airlock hissed open, and a figure stepped forward.

The newcomer was tall and imposing, clad in black armor etched with glowing runes. Their face was hidden behind a sleek helmet, but their voice was smooth and commanding.

“I am Kael, emissary of the Syndicate,” the figure announced. “We’ve come to offer an alliance—or to claim what’s ours.”

Lila’s stomach churned as she exchanged a glance with Ronan. The Syndicate wasn’t just a faction—it was a galactic superpower known for its ruthless efficiency and insatiable greed.

Ronan’s jaw tightened. “We don’t need your help,” he growled.

Kael tilted their head. “Izael has already agreed to our terms. If you refuse, you’ll face more than his army. You’ll face us.”

The threat hung in the air, heavy and inescapable.

Lila’s pulse quickened as she stepped closer to Ronan. “What do we do?”

He didn’t answer immediately, his gaze fixed on Kael. But the fire in his eyes burned brighter than ever.

“We fight,” he said finally, his voice steady and unyielding.