Chapter 5
Space stretched in every direction. No light. No sound. Just the endless dark.
A massive warship moved through it, slow and steady. Its engines gave off a deep hum that seemed to sink into the ship's bones. The body of the ship was black, edges sharp like blades. It looked less like a machine and more like something alive—something hunting.
Faint purple light pulsed through glowing lines that ran across its surface. Smaller ships flew beside it, keeping pace. The purple veins lit them too, casting shadows that danced across metal frames.
Inside, the halls ran long and cold. Steel walls lined with glowing symbols. Thin lines of purple neon lit the paths ahead, leaving shadows that shifted with every step. The air smelled clean, too clean. Like nothing had ever breathed here.
Toward the front, the hall opened into a wide chamber.
The bridge.
One wall was pure glass, stretching from the floor all the way up. Beyond it, only space. Endless and still.
A man stood at the center.
His shoulders squared, boots planted firm. He didn't need to move to command attention. The way he stood said enough. His suit, once fine, now had light creases at the elbows and knees—but it still carried a kind of weight, like it belonged to someone who had seen everything and survived it.
Smoke curled in slow spirals from a lit cigarette between his fingers.
Lines marked his face, carved deep with time. A well-trimmed beard framed his jaw. Strands of gray ran through black, just enough to show the years. Dark glasses hid his eyes, catching the purple glow and sending it back empty.
Rings circled his fingers. Four in all. Each a different color. Their light pulsed soft, barely there.
He didn't move. He just watched the stars, silent.
Then, his lips moved.
"We're getting close…"
————
A scoff broke the stillness.
"Why are we even here, old man? Who's stupid enough to attack this place?" The voice cut through the air, sharp and lazy. No respect in it. Just boredom—and something under it, like a challenge waiting to rise.
The man at the glass didn't react. He didn't need to. His eyes stayed on the dark beyond, unmoved. "Call me that again, and I'll throw you out myself. Let's see how much attitude you have when you're gasping for air in the void."
The reply landed like a blow. Not loud. Just heavy.
Behind him, the younger man let a smile rise. It started slow, crooked at the edge. He didn't flinch, didn't blink. "Bold of you. But if you did that, who'd be left to do the dirty work?"
He stepped forward, light hitting his figure. He moved like a fighter—not bulky, but cut clean, built for speed and impact. His arms hung loose at his sides, but every part of him looked ready to strike.
Then came the mark.
It started at his wrist, black lines curling up his skin like something alive. Not ink. Not art. It pulsed faintly, the light catching metal buried inside. Small pieces shimmered under the skin—sharp, wrong. His fingers curled, veins shifting beneath the surface. Whatever it was, it didn't just sit there. It held something back.
A voice broke through the moment, smooth and warm like silk over steel.
"Relax, Jov." Another figure leaned back in a wide leather chair, legs tossed over the table like he belonged there.
His hair spilled over his chest in thick golden braids, catching the light with every slow breath he took. The smirk on his lips hadn't moved in a while. Maybe it never did.
His eyes tracked everything, never blinking for long. Always watching. "We got intel. Vortex has been snooping around again. We're here in case they try something."
Jov breathed out through his nose, arms crossing. He shifted his weight, foot tapping once."I was enjoying myself with the ladies. Now I'm stuck in this hole with you two."
The words came easy. No tension. Just heat under the skin, like someone itching to leave. "Let's hurry up. They're waiting for me to return."
The old man dropped into his seat. It groaned under him. His fingers curled tight around the armrest. The skin over his knuckles stretched white. "You two sicken me."
The blonde didn't blink. His grin stayed where it was. "Come on, sir. You'll miss us when we're gone."
His voice sounded light. But his eyes—cold, sharp, reading every move—stayed locked on the older man's face.
Jov tilted his head, grin steady, arms loose. "yeah. Don't go crying when you realize you can't live without us."
The old man didn't speak. The silence returned, broken only by the hum of the panels and the faint thrum running under the ship's floor.
Then a voice snapped through it, sharp and clear. "Commander, unidentified ship approaching. Vortex insignia confirmed."
The trooper at the radar station stood straight, arms locked to his sides. His armor—sleek, pitch black—pulsed with thin purple lines that moved like living veins. The glow ran across his chest, circling a jagged emblem carved into the metal: the mark of Apex. His helmet covered everything, just one red line where his eyes should've been.
Jov's right arm tensed. The stone lodged in his flesh shimmered under the dim lights, catching a glint as he clenched his fist. That smile of his came back, wide and ready. "So, they really did come."
He rolled his fingers once, as if trying to calm the thing beneath his skin.
The blond man pushed himself upright, brushing his coat flat as he stood. His hair shifted with the motion, gold sliding over his shoulders. He moved like he had all the time in the world, but something had changed in his eyes. "Looks like we're up."
The old man flicked ash from his cigarette, the smoke curling upward, slow and thin. He leaned into the console, shoulders heavy, jaw set. "Hmph. So much for a quiet patrol."
The blue glow of the holographic display lit his face. On it, the Vortex ship drifted forward—slender and sharp, like a blade sliding through the dark.
Jov stretched his neck, his whole frame rising, ready. "We should blast them before they get any ideas. Save us the trouble."
The blond man's head turned. His smile didn't last long. "And this is why no one lets you make decisions."
He shifted his gaze toward the front, eyes locking on the commander. "What's the move?"
The old man didn't answer right away. His eyes flicked to the trooper still standing at attention.
"Any movement?"
"Negative. They're closing in, but no signs of aggression."
The old man's hand tapped against the console. Slow. Heavy.
"Then we wait. No one makes a move until they do."
He stared at the display. The Vortex ship kept coming. "If they step out of line…" His voice dropped. "We remind them whose territory this is."
Jov let out a breath through his nose, sharp and rough. His head tilted back. "More waiting?"
His arms crossed, but his hands didn't stop moving. Fingers twitched, the mark on his arm flaring slightly. "We already know why they're here."
The blond man watched him, mouth tilting with a hint of mockery. "patience, Jov. Maybe if you sit still long enough, we'll let you throw the first punch."
Jov didn't answer. He just stood there, still but never calm.
The old man turned back to the glowing display. The Vortex ship crawled forward, closer with every second.
"Keep eyes on them. If they try anything reckless, we crush them."
————
The aircraft drifted through the black, its body nearly invisible against the void. Only a faint glow marked its edges before vanishing again, like it had second thoughts. A white spiral curled on its side—the Vortex insignia—quiet but proud. Thrusters adjusted with a soft hum, steering the ship closer toward the line of warships ahead.
Inside the cockpit, Ash, Kael, and Max stood by the window. They didn't need words. The view spoke enough. Towering ships loomed ahead, metal giants floating still, their surfaces catching starlight like they owned it.
Kael pressed his palm against the glass. His fingers twitched once.
"That's a lot of ships… Think they'd notice a little fire?"
Max stood with arms folded, jaw tight. "Right. Because setting things on fire is real subtle."
Ash leaned on the console beside them, one brow lifting. "Wouldn't your flames just flicker out in space?"
Kael turned, his stare sharp. "Step outside and find out."
Ash glanced away, breathing out slow. 'This is what I get for trying to teach him something useful. His eyes dropped to his suit. Anyway… these new suits? I'm loving it.'
He pulled the straps tight across his chest. The suit hugged close—thin, but lined with layers that moved with him. The hood rested unused, folded behind his neck. His boots held just enough weight to remind him of the boosters built into them.
Kael shifted beside him. Energy moved under his sleeves—red lines crawling beneath the surface like veins. The material near his gloves had slits—vents, waiting to release whatever burned inside him. Every part of his suit screamed heat. Control? Maybe. But mostly containment.
Max didn't look up as he adjusted his wrist display. Light danced on his arm. His boots clicked once against the floor, thrusters inside adjusting. His suit carried tools hidden in panels along his sides—small, exact, and always ready.
They all wore black and silver. The insignia rested over their chests. The spiral meant something. A reminder. A mark.
Kael rolled his shoulders. The armor moved with him. No drag. No pause. "Gotta admit, this actually feels nice. You sure it won't slow me down?"
Max stayed bent over the panel. His tone came flat. "It was built to handle your powers, Kael. The only thing slowing you down is that reckless brain of yours."
Kael snorted. "Please. I'm untouchable in battle."
Max finally looked at him, arms crossed. "Good. Then don't break the suit."
Kael frowned. "Tch. What kind of warning is that?"
Ash leaned on the wall, arms at his sides. His eyes rested on the ceiling. "He's got a point, though. That thing can withstand heat, but you don't exactly do 'control' very well."
Kael glared. No words.
Ash didn't meet his gaze. A small smirk formed, subtle, like it was just for himself. 'Yeah, you probably think I'm annoying right now. Joke's on you. The lesson's not over. Dumb brother.'
Kael's hand twitched. "You enjoy pissing me off, don't you?"
'Who wouldn't?' Ash looked his way, calm. "It's just so easy."
Max didn't react. His hand moved across the screen. Lights blinked. Shapes shifted. He tapped a spot on the map—two warships side by side, close enough to touch.
"There's a gap between them. Their sensors overlap everywhere else, but not here. We slide in fast, stay low, and avoid the scans near the docking bays."
The screen pulsed as the path lit up.
"If we time it right, we slip through clean."
Ash stared at the fleet layout glowing on the display, arms tight across his chest. The blinking lights showed enemy patrols and weak spots. His eyes narrowed on the narrow corridor Max pointed out earlier.
"And if we don't time it right?"
Max's fingers moved over the controls, his gaze locked on the screen. "Then we'll have to improvise."
Kael's hand flexed again. The red glow beneath his suit shimmered, dancing along the seams. "Improvise, huh? Sounds like a job for me."
Max didn't answer. He tapped the edge of a warship diagram, zooming in until interior routes and labels filled the screen.
"Once we're inside, we split up. Ash, control room. Take out the security grid. Kael, you draw attention if things fall apart. I'll head for the fuel reserves and plant the charges."
Kael's grin stretched wide. "Ah, so I am setting things on fire."
Max's voice stayed flat. "Controlled fire. As in, not the kind that gets us killed."
Ash tilted his head, eyes still on the screen. "Not sure Kael knows the meaning of 'controlled.'"
Kael rolled his eyes. "You act like I'd just—" He waved a lazy hand toward the viewport. "—explode or something."
Ash thought well. 'It's possible.'
Max finally looked away from the console. "That's exactly what I'm worried about."
Ash let the smirk come. "At least if he does, we'll have front-row seats to the most expensive fireworks show in history."
Kael snorted. "Oh, don't worry. If I explode, I'm taking both of you with me."
They paused. No one said anything. Then laughter broke the silence.
Max's smile didn't last. He turned back to the controls, tapping through a few final settings. The screen shifted to fleet movements and detection zones.
"Alright. Focus up. We're close now. Once we're in, we move fast. Stay quiet. No stunts."
His gaze slid to Kael. "That includes you."
Kael raised both hands like a peace offering. "Relax. I totally got this."
Ash gave Max a side glance, eyebrows raised. Neither looked convinced.
Max brought up another diagram. A signal chart blinked with comm lines and transmission loops.
"We'll need to hack their comms. One alarm, and it's over. I will reroute their signals. Keep them blind."
He tapped the side of his head. A thin blue glow lit the implant near his temple. "good. Their system's prepped to loop on command. Should buy us time."
Kael rolled his shoulders, letting out a slow breath. "And if we run into resistance?"
Max's gaze stayed on the screen. "Then we stick to the plan. Quick, clean, and quiet."
Kael smirked. "Or—"
"No or," Max snapped, not even turning.
Kael held up a hand, mocking defeat. "Fine, fine."
Ash stepped closer, eyes flicking to the countdown now ticking on the corner of the screen. "So what that countdown for. The time we have? "
Max tapped in a few commands. "Yes. Twelve minutes. After that, they start deep scans. We won't stay invisible for long."
Kael let out a low whistle. "Twelve minutes, huh? That's tight."
Max didn't blink. "Then don't waste it."
Kael grinned. "No promises."
Max sighed and pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. "You're going to be the death of me."
Kael clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Relax. We'll be fine."
Ash didn't miss a beat. "That's what you said last time when we had a creature wave at the city."
Kael shrugged. "And look at us now. Alive, thriving, and about to pull off another impossible mission."
'I hate it when he's too confident.' Ash thought.
Max gave a tired nod. "Yeah. Let's just try to keep it that way."
Beyond the window, the enemy ships grew larger, their shapes blocking the stars. They waited in silence, the kind that came before something loud.
The countdown ticked on.
Execution was next.