CHAPTER 10– Old Flames and New Wars

The silence was louder than the war.

Seraphis sat in the dim light of the warship's cabin, her hands resting on her knees, her twin plasma blades clipped to her belt but within easy reach.

She wasn't restrained.

Not because they trusted her.

Because if she tried to kill them, Kael would be the one to stop her.

And she knew he would.

Across from her, Aisha leaned back against the steel bulkhead, arms crossed, eyes gleaming with something sharp and unreadable.

"So, tell me, Seraphis." Aisha's voice was casual, but laced with something darker. "Did it feel good? Selling your soul to the Ascended?"

Seraphis didn't move. Didn't blink.

"Did it feel good killing my people?"

Aisha's smirk didn't waver. "Oh, I didn't kill them because it felt good."

She leaned forward.

"I killed them because they were in my way."

The air between them crackled.

Kael sighed. "Can we skip to the part where you two stop trying to rip each other's throats out long enough to focus on the actual enemy?"

Seraphis finally looked at him.

The expression in her golden eyes was unreadable.

"I'm looking at one."

The words landed heavier than steel.

Kael exhaled slowly. "I didn't betray you, Seraphis."

Seraphis tilted her head. "Then what do you call it?"

Kael didn't answer.

Because he didn't have one.

 Meanwhile… The Ascended's Plan Moves Forward

The Prime Ascendant's throne chamber was silent.

Zeruel sat on his massive throne of hallowed steel and circuitry, his golden eyes fixed on the tactical displays flickering before him.

The rebels had escaped.

But they had not won.

Seraphis had turned.

That, he had expected.

Because all things served the Ascended in the end.

Executor Veyran stood at attention before him, waiting for orders.

Zeruel's voice was calm, absolute.

"Let her run."

Veyran's golden optics flickered. "My lord?"

"She thinks she has left us." Zeruel's fingers tapped against the armrest of his throne. "But she was never hers to command. She is ours. Always has been. Always will be."

Veyran bowed his head. "And the Reaper?"

A long pause.

Then, Zeruel smiled.

"Send the Seraphim."

The warship hummed with low energy, the engines whispering as they drifted through the void. The rebellion had escaped—for now. But no one felt safe. Not with her here.

Seraphis sat on the edge of the war-room table, her golden eyes unreadable. She had removed her armor, revealing the form-fitting combat suit beneath—sleek, black, and lined with faint Ascended markings.

She still looked like one of them.

And no one trusted her.

Across the room, Dain stood with his arms crossed, a walking wall of barely restrained violence.

"We should have put her down when we had the chance."

Aisha smirked from where she leaned against the bulkhead. "I thought the great Ironhand wasn't afraid of anything."

Dain's jaw tightened. "I'm not afraid. I just don't trust traitors."

Seraphis finally spoke, her voice calm, sharp as a blade.

"That's ironic, considering you're all fighting under the banner of one."

The air cracked with tension.

Dain took a step forward. "Say that again."

Kael moved before things could escalate, stepping between them. His voice was low, controlled—but edged with command.

"Enough."

Dain didn't back down. But he didn't push further.

Seraphis tilted her head, watching Kael closely. "I see you're still good at making people hesitate, Reaper."

Kael's jaw tightened. "Are you going to give me a reason not to kill you, Seraphis?"

She smiled faintly. "I already did. Back on the station."

The room fell into silence.

Kael sighed, running a hand through his hair. This was a mistake. Bringing her here. Keeping her alive. He could feel the weight of his choices pressing against him, and for the first time in a long time—he wasn't sure if he had chosen right.

"We'll deal with this later," Elyndra said, stepping into the room. "Right now, we have a bigger problem."

She gestured to the war-table. The holomap flickered, displaying the Ascended fleet's current position.

They were moving. Fast.

"They found us."

Seraphim-class warships cut through the void, their hulls shimmering with divine fire.

On the bridge of the lead dreadnought, Executor Veyran watched the displays flicker with precision.

"Target locked."

Behind him, Prime Ascendant Zeruel observed in silence. His golden eyes burned with something ancient, calculating, inevitable.

Veyran turned. "Shall we burn them from the sky?"

Zeruel's voice was calm. Absolute.

"No. I want them broken. Slowly."

His gaze flickered.

"And bring me the Reaper alive."

The war-table flickered with shifting holographics, marking the rapid approach of the Ascended fleet.

There were too many ships.

Dreadnought-class warships, each one a floating fortress of mechanized death, escorted by a swarm of Seraphim-class hunter vessels. These weren't patrol ships or scouting units.

This was an execution fleet.

Kael's gut tightened. Zeruel wasn't just coming to kill them.

He was coming to erase them.

"How the hell did they track us so fast?" Lirien muttered, the sniper's sharp eyes locked on the hologram.

Aisha's smirk was grim. "Because they don't lose what belongs to them."

Her gaze flicked to Seraphis.

The accusation hung in the air.

Seraphis didn't flinch. Didn't look away. She simply crossed her arms and watched the holomap with that same unreadable calm.

Elyndra turned to Arkan, the ship's veteran pilot. "Options?"

Arkan's fingers flew across the controls, pulling up tactical readouts. His jaw tightened. "None that end well."

"Clarify."

"We can't outrun them. They're faster. We can't outgun them. They're stronger. If we fight, we die."

Silence.

Then Kael smirked. "Sounds about right."

Elyndra shot him a sharp look. "You think this is funny?"

Kael rolled his shoulders, feeling the weight of his Celestial Cleaver resting at his back. "I think if we're already dead, we might as well make them bleed before we go."

Dain grunted in approval. "Now you're speaking my language."

Aisha laughed, shaking her head. "Reckless, suicidal, and dramatic. I swear, Reaper, you're almost charming when you're not being an ass."

Kael winked. "Only almost?"

Elyndra cut in sharply. "Enough." Her amber eyes burned. "We're not dying today. Not if I can help it."

She turned to Arkan. "Find us an opening. Anything we can use to break through."

Arkan's fingers flew over the controls. He frowned. Paused. Then swore under his breath.

"There's a Rift anomaly ahead. A massive gravitational storm. If we fly through it, we might be able to shake them off."

Might.

Kael narrowed his eyes at the swirling mass of Rift energy on the display. "Or we rip ourselves apart in the process."

"I said it wasn't a good option."

Elyndra exhaled sharply. "It's our only option. We go through."

No one argued. Not because they liked the plan—but because there was nothing else.

Aisha grinned. "This is either the dumbest or the smartest thing we've ever done."

Kael smirked. "That's usually how it works."

Then the alarms screamed.

"CONTACT!"

The ship shook violently as the first Ascended warships opened fire.

The rebel warship lurched, artificial gravity struggling against the sheer force of impact. Metal groaned as the shields flared, barely holding against the incoming barrage.

"Shields at 60% and falling!" Reyna called from the tactical station.

"Return fire!" Elyndra barked.

The ship's cannons blazed, lancing through the void. Explosions bloomed as some of the smaller Ascended hunter ships were struck, their shields collapsing in bursts of fire.

But it wasn't enough.

Kael gritted his teeth as he watched the Seraphim warships maneuver with terrifying precision, their sleek black hulls slicing through space like blades.

"They're trying to box us in," Lirien murmured. "Forcing us toward their dreadnought."

Kael's grip tightened around the hilt of his blade. "They want us alive."

"No."

Seraphis finally spoke. Her voice was calm, even. But when Kael turned to look at her, he saw something cold and sharp in her golden eyes.

"They want you alive."

The words landed like a blade between his ribs.

Before he could respond, the ship shook again.

"Boarding crafts incoming!" Typhon roared. His Rift-marked hands flared with unstable energy, his entire body thrumming with barely-contained destruction.

"They're coming in fast!"

Kael exhaled sharply. "Let them come."

He drew his blade.

The battle wasn't just outside anymore.

Now, it was personal.

The impact of the boarding crafts shuddered through the hull.

Then came the silence.

A pause. A breath.

Then—

The airlock exploded inward.

Ascended enforcers poured in, clad in shimmering black armor, their faces hidden behind luminous golden masks.

Their weapons hummed with divine plasma, crackling with lethal energy.

"Hold the line!" Elyndra commanded.

Dain charged first, a walking juggernaut of brute force, fists slamming into the nearest enforcer and crushing its armor like tin.

Lirien moved like a shadow, her sniper rifle tearing through helmets with surgical precision.

Reyna's shield flared, absorbing incoming fire as she fought back with cold, ruthless efficiency.

Typhon unleashed a burst of Rift energy, warping the very air around him, folding three enforcers into themselves in a grotesque, crushing implosion.

And Kael?

Kael moved like a storm given form.

His Celestial Cleaver shifted mid-swing, morphing from a greatsword to a scythe, cutting through Ascended warriors like they were made of paper.

One enforcer lunged—Kael caught its wrist, twisted, and drove his knee into its chest, caving in the armor before slashing its throat.

Another swung—Kael ducked low, spinning into a brutal counterattack, cleaving the enforcer in half.

The corridor became a bloodbath.

But the Ascended didn't stop coming.

For every enforcer that fell, another took its place.

And then—

The air changed.

Kael felt it before he saw it.

Something powerful.

Something unnatural.

And then, stepping through the breach—

Came him.

Executor Veyran.

His golden armor gleamed with Ascended purity, his twin plasma blades humming with lethal precision. His face was hidden behind a smooth, featureless mask—except for his eyes.

Burning. Unforgiving. Locked on Kael.

"Reaper." His voice was smooth, hollow. "You've run long enough."

Kael tightened his grip on his weapon.

"You want me?" His smirk was razor-sharp. "Come take me."

Then they clashed.