The vents groaned under their combined weight. Every inch of movement was a choreographed dance of agony; if Elias crawled too fast, Lyra's heart would begin to flutter like a trapped bird. If she paused to catch her breath while he pushed forward, his chest felt as though a hot iron was being pressed against his ribs. They were no longer two people; they were a singular, aching pulse.
"We're close," Elias wheezed, his face inches from the metal grating of the bridge's primary intake.
Below them, the command deck of the Iron Sovereign was a hive of frantic activity. Officers shouted over the roar of proximity alarms. The viewports were no longer filled with the nebula's beauty; the Rift was expanding, a jagged tear in reality that threatened to swallow the sector.
"The sun's core is collapsing," Lyra whispered, looking through the slats. "Valerius wasn't lying about that. Look at the gravimetric sensors."
The central display showed the sun—Aethelgard's sun—turning a violent, bruised black. It was no longer a source of life; it was becoming a vacuum.
"If we don't upload the Thorne Factor data now, the collapse becomes irreversible," Elias said. He looked at the main console, situated in the center of a raised dais. Valerius stood there, surrounded by his elite guard. The Chancellor wasn't looking at the sun; he was looking at the vent where they were hiding.
"I know you're there, Elias," Valerius's voice boomed, amplified by the bridge speakers. "I can feel the atmospheric pressure shifting in the ventilation shafts. And I can feel the clock ticking."
Elias kicked the grating open. They tumbled onto the deck, guns drawn, but they didn't separate. They stood back-to-back, a circle of two. The bridge crew froze, caught between their loyalty to the uniform and the sight of their legendary Captain standing with the 'Terrorist' Commander.
"Upload the archives, Elias!" Lyra shouted, firing a suppressive burst at a Wraith who tried to flank them. "I'll hold the dais!"
Elias lunged for the auxiliary terminal, but as he reached for the data port, the deck vanished beneath him.
A localized gravity plate reversed. Elias was slammed into the ceiling, while Lyra remained pinned to the floor. The distance between them was suddenly twelve feet—straight up.
"No!" Elias screamed. The pain hit like a physical blade. His heart skipped a beat, then two. His vision blurred as the "leash" began to tear at his vitals.
Lyra collapsed on the floor, clawing at her chest. "Elias... get... down..."
Valerius walked toward Lyra, his boots clicking on the polished floor. He looked up at Elias, who was dangling from the ceiling, paralyzed by the cardiac surge.
"This is the crushing reality of your 'connection', Elias," Valerius said, his voice dripping with mock pity. "Love makes you predictable. It makes you tethered. And in a vacuum, a tether is just a rope to hang yourself with."
Valerius knelt beside Lyra, pressing the barrel of his gold-plated pistol to her temple. "The final layer of the Thorne Factor, Elias. Did you think your father was a romantic? No. He was a scientist. He knew that for the sun to reignite, the 'Catalyst' had to be released through a massive burst of emotional and physical trauma. The 'fusion' I spoke of? It's not just biological. It's the energy released at the moment of one twin's death while the other is in proximity."
Elias struggled to breathe, his heart thundering at a lethal 220 beats per minute. "You... you need one of us... to watch the other die."
"Precisely," Valerius smiled. "The grief of a Thorne is the spark that lights the stars. If I kill Lyra while you are forced to watch, the surge will be enough to bypass the manual stabilizers. I save the galaxy, and I rid myself of the rebels in one stroke."
"Elias..." Lyra rasped, her silver eyes finding his. She wasn't crying anymore. She was smiling—the same terrifying, beautiful smile she had worn in the vacuum. "Don't let him... have the spark."
She reached for her own belt. She wasn't grabbing a gun. She was grabbing the thermal detonator she'd scavenged from the lab.
"If I die by my own hand," she whispered, her finger hovering over the dead-man's switch, "the frequency won't match. The sun stays dark, Valerius. You get nothing."
"Lyra, stop!" Elias roared, his voice breaking.
Valerius paled. For the first time, the Chancellor looked afraid. "You would kill the entire sector just to spite me?"
"I'd kill the universe to keep you from owning it," she spat.
The bridge was silent. The only sound was the screaming of the dying sun through the monitors and the synchronized, agonizing thud of two hearts about to stop.
Elias looked at the data drive, still clutched in his hand. He looked at the gravity controls. He had one chance to move. One chance to bridge the gap before Lyra pressed the button.
To be continued.....