Chapter 107: Griffin’s Resolution

Epsilon Sector – Side Corridor, Helios-V8

“Another one?” Kane growled as he reloaded his weapon.

“Lost count already?” Skye replied, taking out a defense drone with a perfectly placed shot through a ventilation shaft.

The explosion that followed showered them briefly in ash and scorched metal.

“Yeah,” Kane went on with a mocking grin. “I must be getting out of the habit of surviving your shitty plans.”

“You’re free to turn back, cowboy. I promise I won’t cry over your carcass. Well… maybe a little, if you blow up in a decent firework.”

Kane snorted, wiping dried blood from his temple. He was limping slightly, but his eyes burned with a ferocity not seen in a long time.

“You always been this charming, Skye?”

“Only with idiots. And with guys who trigger planetary manhunts because they’re too pretty to stay discreet.”

Kane huffed through his nose. Point taken.

They moved on. Back to back, reluctant veterans. The corridors of Helios-V8 still throbbed from recent clashes, but together they formed a mobile engine of destruction, alternating crossfire, explosions, evasions, and insults.

“You know,” Kane said between two impacts, “I didn’t expect this.”

“Expect what?”

“Working with you. Coming back. Running toward a woman like Evelyn to save her. Me. The asshole of the story.”

Skye glanced back briefly. A flash of quiet respect crossed her eyes, quickly replaced by her usual sarcasm.

“You didn’t read the four-act redemption manual? Chapter three: ‘Risk your life for someone you betrayed.’”

“Ah. I thought I owed you some bedtime reading.”

A silence. Then Skye added, more softly:

“We’re doing this for her. Not for you.”

Kane nodded slowly.

“That’s why I’m still here.”

They reached a locked intersection. Skye dropped to one knee immediately to crack the electronic seal while Kane covered their rear. His gaze drifted for a moment, distant.

Delta Sector – Access Corridors to the Central Core

The structure of Helios-V8 shuddered in waves, like a dying metal beast.

Entire sections of ceiling had collapsed, exposing unstable energy conduits. Alarms still screamed, but no one seemed to hear them anymore.

And there, amid the rubble, shredded drones, and charred remains of defective clones, Vykhor led the way.

He wasn’t running. He was walking.

Each step rang against the steel floor like a war knell.

His Kael’tarian prosthetic arm, once designed as a tactical extension, now felt like a divine weapon. It tore through bulkheads. Shattered defenses. Repelled the abominations the Master had unleashed.

A genetically modified creature burst from a collapsed wall, drooling viscous toxin.

Vykhor didn’t slow.

One strike. A dry crack. The thing was reduced to pieces, its skull smashed against the partition.

Behind him, Evelyn advanced with the same resolve… but a different kind of power. She feared nothing as long as Vykhor was in front.

She held the case against her chest. Like a relic. Or a bomb. Or both.

Her fingers clenched around the handle. Her gaze fixed. She didn’t speak. Didn’t ask if he was all right. She knew.

The central chamber was close now. They could almost feel the others.

Zeynn. Griffin. Blue. Skye. Kane. Rax.

Their pack.

“We’re almost there,” she breathed behind him.

Vykhor didn’t answer. But he quickened his pace.

Because they had a virus to inject. And an empire to bring down.

Main Sector – Access to the Central Core of Helios-V8

A sharp hydraulic click. Then a breath. A silence. A moment suspended in time.

The door opened. And the two groups met.

Zeynn, coated in dust, claws still dripping with black blood.

Blue, massive, protective, already alert.

Griffin, motionless, features drawn tight, eyes burning.

Opposite them, Vykhor, nearly covered in soot and blood, his right arm still glowing with residual energy.

And Evelyn… hands clenched around the case, eyes clear, determined, too calm for that to be normal.

No one spoke. Not at first.

Then Griffin stepped forward. Slowly. Steadily.

He reached out for the case. But Evelyn didn’t move right away.

Her fingers tightened a little more. She looked up at him.

“You knew, didn’t you?” she whispered.

It wasn’t a question. It was certainty. Griffin met her gaze without flinching.

“From the beginning,” he answered simply.

A silence wrapped around them, almost intimate.

“And you let me—”

“Grow. Decide. Be free.”

She wavered, just slightly. Enough for Vykhor to notice.

“You already had enough chains, Evelyn,” Griffin added. “I wasn’t about to add another.”

She drew a breath, eyes shining. Then she looked down at the case.

“It’s a weapon.”

“No,” he said. “It’s an ending.”

She nodded slowly, then disengaged the security system. The case emitted a discreet beep.

And she handed it to him.

The exchange was silent. But in Evelyn’s eyes there was pain—and absolute trust.

“You sure about this?” Vykhor asked, his voice low.

Griffin nodded.

“I may be the one who pulled her out of hell,” he said plainly. “But it’s time I did more than run.”

He looked at Evelyn.

“You’ve already carried enough for all of us.”

A mechanical click sounded as the case was secured to the harness Griffin had jury-rigged at his belt.

Zeynn stepped forward immediately.

“I’m coming with you.”

“There’ll be defenses,” Griffin warned. “The core is a maze.”

“I’m small, fast, and pissed.”

Blue let out a deep growl.

“No. You stay,” Evelyn cut in.

“I’m coming,” Zeynn growled.

Rax, silent until now, stepped forward.

“I know systems like this well enough to anticipate their routines. I’ll cover him.”

Griffin studied the two younger men. Then nodded.

“Then let’s go.”

One last look at Evelyn. Almost paternal. Then he turned away.

Zeynn and Rax followed without hesitation.

The virus was going to be injected. All that remained was to hold the line.

West Corridor – Access to the Upper Central Core

Their footsteps echoed through the corridors like the toll of a final judgment.

The metal was blackened, the walls torn open by earlier assaults. Every red blink along the panels felt like an omen. Dying alarms pulsed weakly in the guts of the complex, fading echoes of a fortress collapsing.

Vykhor moved first. Shoulders low, coiled. His prosthetic arm still radiated heat, ready to strike again if needed.

But his gaze was no longer that of a cynical warrior.

It was the gaze of a man ready to finish this.

At his side, Evelyn advanced with the same gravity. Her hands no longer trembled. She had entrusted the case. Entrusted the choice. She was no longer alone.

And she was about to face what had defined her all her life.

“We’re going to have to kill him,” she murmured, as if she needed to hear it out loud.

“No,” Vykhor replied harshly. “We’re going to eradicate him.”

They walked a few more steps.

“Are you afraid?” he asked, without looking at her.

She didn’t answer right away.

Then:

“I’m not afraid of him. Or of what he can do.”

She turned her head slightly toward him.

“I’m afraid of what he thinks I am. And of what I still feel I have to prove.”

Vykhor stopped dead.

He turned slowly to her. His gaze locked onto hers, burning, unwavering.

“You have nothing left to prove, Evelyn. Not to him. Not to me. Not even to yourself.”

She blinked, caught off guard by the intensity.

He continued, lower:

“You are my My’Lari. And that’s all I see.”

A breath. A suspended fragment of time. Then she nodded softly.

They moved on.

At the end of this corridor, there would be no plan. No negotiation. No retreat.

At the end of this corridor, there would only be the end.