Valeria/Blackhand/Nyx

  The sliding glass doors parted with a soft chime, followed by a smooth artificial voice: "Welcome, authorized personnel. Glory to the Republic."

  The greeting did not match the horror awaiting them.

  The lower lobby of the Spire had been designed to impress: polished white tiles, gold-veined columns, glass panels etched with the emblem of the Republic. Now, it reeked of death.

  Blood painted the floor in long strokes. It wasn’t just a massacre, it was art. Bodies of elite Republic guards, men bred and trained for war, lay broken across the tile in curated disarray. Throats cut cleanly. Spines snapped. Holes punched cleanly through them.

  Valeria stepped forward, boots echoing with clinical calm. Blackhand followed in silence, his towering frame hunched slightly as he examined the dead. One of Valeria’s men hesitated, voice barely audible.

  "Who did this?"

  Blackhand knelt beside a corpse, fingers brushing the wound with a strange reverence.

  "Not him," he said after a moment. "Too clean. He’s... messy."

  Valeria didn’t look at him. "Speak less. You waste air."

  The artificial greeting still echoed faintly from the lobby behind them. Blackhand let out a short, rasping chuckle.

  "Glory to the Republic," he muttered, amused. "Cute."

  The next corridor was worse. Entrails clung to the elevator doors like wet ribbons. Lights flickered in fevered pulses. Blood had dried on the walls in wide, unfired arcs.

  Valeria frowned. "They did not fire. Or they missed. Either way... pathetic."

  Blackhand’s visor tilted toward the impact marks. "They tried," he said with a grunt. "But their hands were shakin'. Cowards couldn't even land a shot before they died."

  He sounded almost disappointed.

  They passed through the remainder of the gore-slicked corridor in silence. Toward the rear of the lobby, the security wing loomed, a monolithic set of reinforced doors, unmarked and dimly lit.

  They stopped at the sealed entrance.

  One of the TRNC troopers stepped forward, glancing around. "I'll check the bodies—maybe one of them has a keycard."

  Blackhand didn’t wait.

  He stepped past him, slammed his gauntlet into the panel, and began ripping it open with the screech of tearing metal.

  "That works too," the trooper muttered.

  The panel gave way with a final groan of protest.

  Valeria stood behind him, arms crossed behind her back, perfectly still.

  "You're not very subtle," she murmured.

  "What’s it matter? Everyone’s fuckin’ dead."

  Valeria gave a nod, and two of her tech officers moved quickly to the console, plugging in their gear. Sparks flew as access protocols were overridden with clean precision.

  Blackhand loomed nearby, unimpressed.

  "Faster," he growled.

  One of the techs flinched but didn’t look away from the screen. "Almost there... got it."

  The footage flickered to life. They scrubbed back quickly.

  The attacks happened fast, too fast. One room after another lit up with movement, each frame showing guards cut down before they could lift a finger. Muzzle flashes lit up empty air. Death had moved like a ghost.

  But here, in this control center, they had access to more cameras. More angles.

  And finally one frame caught her.

  "Rewind," Valeria said coldly. "Show it her again."

  A crimson figure appeared on the screen. Amber-eyed. Burning.

  She blinked into existence behind a guard, slitting his throat before his body knew it was dead. Then another blink. Her tail-blade emerged from a second man’s chest before he could turn.

  Her eyes glowed, just faintly. But it was enough.

  She knew.

  Valeria’s smile lacked anything close to warmth.

  "Da. Of course. His little red toy."

  Blackhand tilted his head. "What?"

  Valeria didn’t answer immediately. She stepped forward, gaze fixed on the display as Nyx dismantled another hallway full of guards.

  "Nyx," she said, the name dragging out like a curse. "Always clinging. Claws, obsession... never knew how to let go."

  Blackhand grunted. "I like her. For a xenos."

  Valeria waved one hand. "Good luck. Enferians love once. Fully. There is no second."

  She turned from the screen, voice lowering.

  "She comes for him," Valeria said, her voice cold as cut glass. "And I do same. For answers. For reckoning."

  ***

  The lights flickered overhead as the elevator doors creaked open manually under Blackhand’s armored grip. Valeria stepped inside, her white coat brushing through crimson streaks.

  They began their ascent.

  "She moved through entire lobby to the security wing," Valeria muttered. "And then she looked straight into camera. Like she knew I’d be there. Watching."

  Blackhand smirked. "You think she knew you'd come here?"

  Valeria's gaze stayed forward. "No.. I guess not."

  "Right," Blackhand said, stepping over a dismembered Republic officer and leaning against the rail. "So it’s about him. Figures."

  He gave her a sidelong glance.

  "You and Yuki used to fight over him. Then you all played house for a while. You, him, your little girl, pretending like it was real. Like a monster like him could have a quiet life with you in some upper-level suite while the rest of us rotted in the dirt."

  He stared at the back of her platinum blonde head.

  "Now he’s got some crimson-skinned succubus who teleports through steel and carves through elite squads like they’re training dummies. Personally. I think he upgraded. That has to hurt."

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Valeria didn’t respond at first. Just spammed the button for the upper floor. The light flickered, blinked red, then green.

  “We trained together since childhood,” she said coldly. “That does not mean I ever fought for scraps.”

  Blackhand grinned.

  “Sure. Just tried to get me reassigned every time bro talked to Yuki for longer than ten seconds.”

  She turned her head slightly.

  “Do not call him that.”

  “Why not? That’s what Father called us. Brothers. I was the killer an he always referred to him as, ‘My perfect heir.’” Blackhand’s voice dropped into a mock impression:

  “Timus Lucian Aurelius Corvus. A true Centurion. Built for greatness.”

  He flexed one black-gloved hand, the sound of tightening servos beneath the skin of synth-flesh.

  “Meanwhile, I got experiments and neuro-stabilizers drilled into my spine. You got shadow dossiers and orders to ‘watch him from afar.’ And instead you decided to get too close, played house, got attached.”

  Blackhand shook his head.

  “Failed your assignment the minute you started pretending it was real... Funny how we both ended up doing the same thing. Just less… voluntary.”

  Valeria’s hand twitched at her side. Her expression didn’t shift.

  “You think this is about pride?” Valeria’s voice dropped to a frostbitten hush. “If he is dead, I do not care what orders say. I will put a bullet through your skull before the blood dries.”

  Blackhand chuckled, the sound low and cruel.

  “That’s the thing about you, Val. Always playing soldier. Still trying to act like this is about duty.”

  The elevator dinged.

  The upper floor stretched out in silence, more pristine architecture soaked in arterial chaos.

  A dozen guards lay strewn like discarded armor. One pinned to the ceiling with a blade through the gut. Eyes wide.

  “She’s a crazy girl,” Blackhand muttered, stepping into the hallway. “With how she moves, she didn’t have to kill these men. She wanted to.”

  Valeria glanced around at the bloodied walls, her voice low. “She never leaves loose ends.”

  “No,” Blackhand replied, scanning the carnage. “They were just in the way.”

  ***

  They walked in silence, the corridor stretching long and dim before them. One of Valeria’s officers glanced down at a wrist scanner and spoke with clipped formality.

  "This is the door to Orion’s private office, ma’am."

  Valeria gave no reply, only a small nod.

  Before the soldier could approach the panel, the door slid open.

  And out stepped Nyx, gloves in one hand, the other arm stained to the elbow in dried red-black. Behind her, stumbling and wide-eyed, was Siyasha.

  A few of the Republic troops recoiled instinctively.

  "Is that?"

  "Shit... that’s her."

  Valeria raised one hand slightly, her voice calm but carrying weight. "No one fires unless I give the order."

  Then she and Blackhand looked at each other, then at her blood-soaked hands, the same hands they’d just watched tear men apart on camera.

  Valeria’s gaze narrowed, lips drawn in a thin, unreadable line.

  Blackhand’s grin curved under his breath. “Huh. I'm disappointed. Figured if we ran into her, it’d be louder.”

  Valeria didn’t look at him. Her eyes remained fixed on Nyx.

  There was a pause, long enough to border on awkward.

  “Nyx,” she said with a nod, voice cold but familiar.

  “Valeria,” Nyx returned quietly.

  Another moment of silence passed before Valeria’s tone hardened.

  “If you found anything helpful in there, you will submit it and willingly come into my custody. Now. Do this, and you may live.”

  Nyx looked at her for a long moment. Then she exhaled and tugged her gloves off, finger by finger, letting them drop to the floor.

  Her hands were coated in blood.

  Nyx tilted her head slightly, her voice calm. “Did 'e ever tell you 'ow we met?”

  Valeria’s eyes narrowed. She shook her head once.

  Nyx looked past her, not at her. “Mais bien s?r que non. 'E would never speak of such things. Especially not to you.”

  She stepped forward slowly, her words unhurried.

  “I was eleven. Taken somewhere far, far from 'ome. If there is such a thing as hell, that place... it came very close.”

  A faint twitch touched the corner of her mouth, too hollow to be a smile.

  “They tied me down. Said I would serve the stars best by dyin' beneath them. I remember the chanting, the smoke, the smell of ash in my throat. And 'ow cold the stone was beneath my back... cold like ice, mon dieu.”

  She looked Valeria in the eye now.

  “And then... 'e came. Out of nowhere. So young, so angry, so... alive. Like some furious god wearin' a military coat two sizes too big. 'E didn’t hesitate. Didn’t ask questions. Just boom, boom, boom, 'e killed them. All of them.”

  Her voice didn’t waver even with tears gathering in the corners of her eyes.

  “'E didn’t 'ave to 'elp me, you know? Could 'ave just walked past, comme les autres. Most would 'ave. But 'e picked me up, wrapped me in his coat like I was something precious. Looked at me and said, ‘Come with me.’ Just like that. No questions.”

  She stepped forward slowly, eyes locked on Valeria’s.

  “'For two days, he looked after me. Let me sleep in 'is bunk, fed me warm food, even brushed out my 'air when I could barely lift my own arms. 'E told me stories. Dumb little stories about stars and ships and his favorite kola drink. But I remember every word."

  A quiet pause.

  "'E gave me a nickname. Made me feel... safe. Seen. Like maybe I wasn’t broken forever. I never forgot 'is voice. Or the color of 'is eyes, mon dieu... so sharp and kind all at once.”

  Nyx sighed dreamily.

  “It took me six years to find him again. I haven’t left since.”

  “So it’s a childish crush.” Valeria replied sharp as ever change.

  “Non, chère Valeria.”

  Nyx smiled faintly.

  “It was never childish, 'e is the reason I breathe."

  She stepped even closer, her voice dropping into a whisper. “I will protect him... fight for him... bleed for him. I will tear this galaxy into little, screaming pieces if I must.”

  Another step. Her eyes shimmered with something dangerous and unshakable.

  “Even if the stars burn out and I am nothin' but dust... I will be by 'is side, always."

  Blackhand’s hand hovered over his holster. “Stars, you’re dramatic. What was that, the season finale monologue? Let me guess, you practiced it with candles and sad music playing in the background. Maybe a glass of wine and a mirror, whispering 'mon coeur' to your reflection?”

  Nyx blinked once. Then she moved.

  Her tail lashed out, blade-tip aimed dead for Blackhand's throat. He twisted, inhumanly fast, dodging by inches and drawing his weapon in the same breath. It clattered to the floor as Nyx struck again, claws flashing, foot driving toward his knee.

  He caught it. With one hand.

  "Huh," he grunted, dark amusement flickering across his face. "You really thought that would work. Adorable."

  Nyx ducked low, tail sweeping behind her. Blackhand stepped over it cleanly, countering with a brutal punch to her ribs. She stumbled, but spun through the motion, flipping into a kick that slammed him into the wall.

  He laughed as he bounced off the steel. "Not bad, but you hit like a starved kitten."

  She came in again, this time going for the kill, speed a blur. Blackhand blocked her slash with a forearm that sparked on impact, then grabbed her by the throat and slammed her into the wall hard enough to dent the paneling.

  "Cute trick with the tail. But next time, check if the guy you're trying to assassinate is built from war-grade alloys and not weak flesh."

  Nyx snarled, tail lashing around him, but he twisted free just as her blade snapped forward.

  A sudden motion caught his eye, Siyasha trying to flee in the chaos.

  Nyx saw it too.

  In a blink, she disengaged, pivoted, punched her tail clear through the Xyrelian’s chest like a lance.

  “I am sorry,” she said softly, her voice catching just slightly. “But I cannot let you risk my commandant's life."

  Nyx looked out one of the missing windows, then vanished, folding back into the shadows between worlds.

  “You shoulda stuck around, sweetheart. She's gonna turn a real pretty color now.”

  He looked Siyasha up and down, watching the way her glow stuttered.

  “Lilac, mostly. With a little green. Their organs do this weird shimmer thing when you hit 'em just right. It's actually kind of beautiful. Like watchin' a jellyfish die."

  Valeria didn’t turn her head.

  “You are very fucked up,” she said flatly.

  Blackhand grinned. “Da, Captain. But I get results.”

  Something shimmered against the skyline, a flicker of light bending like glass.

  Eyes turned upward.

  The Valkyrion, nearly invisible, detached from beneath the Spire and took off. Its cloaking field distorted the air around it like a heat mirage.

  Valeria’s eyes sharpened instantly.

  "That’s Corvus’s ship."

  One of the officers stepped forward, staring. “She teleported... that far?”

  Another muttered, stunned, “I’ve never seen anything like that.”

  Blackhand snorted. “Varro's gonna want her in a cage.”

  A wet, rattling cough escaped from the Xyrelian beside him, followed by a splatter of blood across the floor.

  He turned toward the sound with idle curiosity. "Well look at that. Still breathing." A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "The little red demon missed your heart. Figures. Xyrelian vitals sit further right than ours."

  He gave a little shrug. "You’ll live... probably."

  He crouched beside her, eyeing the slow, twitching rise of her chest.

  Blood dribbled from Siyasha’s lips, thick and dark, frothing as she tried to breathe. The tail hadn't hit her heart, but it definitely carved through something important. One lung, maybe both. Her glow flickered, dimmed.

  Blackhand leaned in, voice low and uncaring. "But you won’t last long without help. And I won't help unless you talk. So let’s not waste each other’s time. Tell me where are they going?"

  Siyasha blinked slowly. Her mouth opened, jaw trembling. Blood gurgled at the edge of her teeth. Still no words.

  He didn’t wait. Pulled a small injector from his coat and stabbed it into her thigh with indifference. The stimulant kicked in fast. Her eyes fluttered, then snapped open, glowing again, just a little.

  "Fifteen seconds," he muttered.

  She whimpered, eyes darting between Valeria and Blackhand.

  "...Nivara..."

  Blackhand exhaled sharply through his nose.

  "Knew it."

  He stood and wiped his gloves on her silk robes like she was nothing more than a stain on his boots. Then he crouched slightly, tilted his head, and gave her one last look.

  "Glows pretty, bleeds like a drunk, but useless in the end."

  He grabbed her by the arm with all the gentleness of a trash hauler, dragging her limp form across the floor.

  "You know, if you're going to die slow and pathetic, at least be interesting about it."

  With a grunt, he hurled her through the shattered glass.

  "Au revoir, sparklebug."

  She tumbled into the wind, gone.

  Blackhand rolled his shoulders and cracked his knuckles. "It’ll be nice when we can finally burn this filth from the stars."

  Valeria stood silently, still watching the sky.

  Her expression didn’t shift, but her eyes flicked sideways, just once, toward Blackhand. Like she was measuring the depth of the sickness coiled beneath his grin.

  She didn’t speak. She didn’t need to. The silence said it all.