Pain dragged Light back from the void.
It was the first thing he felt—sharp, burning, relentless. His body twitched instinctively, fingers scraping weakly against cold metal. A low groan escaped his throat as his eyes fluttered open.
Dim emergency lights flickered above him.
For a moment, he didn't understand where he was.
Then memory crashed down.
The blade.
The betrayal.
The wormhole swallowing the stars.
Light sucked in a breath and immediately regretted it. Fire tore through his side, forcing the air from his lungs. He clenched his teeth, fighting the scream as his vision slowly focused.
He was lying on the floor of the shuttle.
Not the cockpit seat.
Not restrained.
Thrown aside like discarded cargo.
His head turned slightly—and his heart dropped.
Marcus sat against the far wall, wrists bound behind his back with reinforced restraints. Two engineers and a navigation officer were tied beside him, bruised, bloodied, unmoving. Marcus's head hung low, chest rising and falling heavily.
Unconscious.
Alive.
"Light…"
The whisper came from ahead.
Iris.
She stood near the cockpit, hands bound, shoulders tense. Her eyes widened the instant she saw him awake.
"Don't move," she pleaded quietly. "Please."
Light followed her gaze.
Captain John stood at the controls.
Calm. Steady. In control.
The warmth Light once trusted was completely gone from his eyes.
Behind him stood four more crew members—faces Light knew well now, not as allies, but as traitors.
"Good," John said mildly. "You're awake."
Light pushed his palm against the floor, forcing his body upright inch by inch. His side screamed in protest, blood soaking deeper into his uniform, but he ignored it.
"What is this?" Light demanded hoarsely. "You stabbed me. You tied them up. You took control of the ship."
John didn't even look at him.
"I didn't take control," he replied, adjusting the navigation. "I was always in control."
Light's eyes flicked to the viewport.
The stars outside were wrong.
Unfamiliar. Twisted. No known constellations. No familiar patterns.
Cold understanding spread through his chest.
"The wormhole," Light whispered. "We made it through."
"Yes," John said. "Perfectly."
Iris stiffened. "Then why cut off Earth communication?"
John finally turned toward them, his expression sharpening. "Because Earth is no longer relevant."
Light forced himself to his feet, swaying. "You betrayed IPRA."
John smiled faintly. "We were never IPRA."
Silence fell like a blade.
Iris's voice trembled. "Then who are you?"
"Russian Space Directorate," John answered calmly. "Embedded operatives. Every one of us."
Light shook his head. "This isn't about countries. No one risks a mission like this for politics."
John stepped closer, eyes cold. "Correct. This has nothing to do with nations."
"Then what?" Iris snapped.
"Alfred," John said. "His research. His theory. His obsession with proving that humanity can cross galaxies and survive."
Iris's eyes burned. "You're afraid he's right."
John leaned in slightly. "I'm here to make sure his plan becomes a failure."
Light clenched his fists. "Let her go."
John ignored him and casually reached out, brushing his fingers near Iris's shoulder.
Something snapped inside Light.
"Don't touch her!"
He lunged.
Two men intercepted him instantly, slamming him hard against the floor. Pain exploded through his injured side, stealing his breath.
John laughed softly. "You really don't know when to stop."
As Light gasped, his eyes caught something strange.
Blood.
Dried blood on the knuckles of one man.
Another had a split lip.
A third was clutching his ribs.
Light's gaze shifted.
Marcus's hand—knuckles raw, smeared dark red.
Understanding struck instantly.
Marcus fought them.
John noticed his stare and chuckled. "That one?" He nodded toward Marcus. "Strength of a gorilla. Took all five of us to put him down."
Light smiled weakly through the pain.
John's face darkened.
Suddenly, he grabbed Iris by the hair and yanked her head back.
"Stop!" Light shouted.
John raised his fist.
Light surged forward again.
The blow landed on Light instead.
His head slammed into the shuttle wall. White exploded across his vision as blood streamed down his face.
"Oh?" John laughed. "Trying to be a hero?"
Light wiped his eyes and forced himself upright. "Fight me."
John studied him for a moment, then waved the others back. "I want to see what you've got."
Light swung.
John dodged easily, grabbed Light's head, and smashed it into the wall again.
Pain thundered through his skull.
Light staggered but refused to fall.
John attacked brutally—punches, elbows, knees—each strike landing cleanly. Light couldn't block. Couldn't retaliate.
He collapsed.
John kicked him hard.
Light cried out.
John crouched over him, gripping his collar. "This small fry doesn't even know who I am."
He raised his fist, intent on smashing Light's head into the floor.
Iris screamed. "STOP!"
She tried to reach Light.
One of the traitors struck her across the face, sending her crashing down.
Light's vision blurred.
Then—
A roar.
The restraints snapped.
Marcus stood.
His eyes burned with something unnatural. Veins darkened, a black aura rippling faintly around him.
He moved.
One traitor was crushed against the wall.
Another fell screaming.
Bones broke. Blood splattered.
John turned too late.
Marcus grabbed his head.
A sickening crack echoed.
John's body dropped lifelessly to the floor.
Silence.
The betrayal was over.
Iris rushed to Light, cradling his bloodied face. "Light… stay with me."
He didn't respond.
Then the shuttle shook violently.
A meteor tore into the wing.
Alarms screamed.
"Critical damage detected," the AI announced.
"Emergency landing required."
A planet filled the viewport—earthlike, unfamiliar.
Iris acted instantly.
With trembling hands, she loaded Light into an escape capsule.
Marcus moved next.
Silently, efficiently, he lifted the remaining unconscious survivors and placed them into the remaining capsules, one by one.
No words were spoken.
The capsules sealed.
They launched.
Fire swallowed everything as they fell toward the unknown world below.
End of Chapter- 2-