Chapter 29: Infiltrating Lord Kryon’s Palace

After the tense confrontation with Kharok and his betrayal laid bare, the rebel camp was in a frenzy. The murmurs of the soldiers rose like a constant hum, but Colonel Voren, a robust man with a piercing gaze, wasted no time. He knew the window of opportunity to strike at Lord Kryon was closing fast, so he immediately gathered the mercenaries for a strategic meeting.

Vykhor, Evelyn, Skye, and Rax assembled in a large makeshift tent, where Voren laid out his plan with unyielding determination. “We have a new target,” he announced, his deep voice resonating in the cramped space. “We’re going to strike directly at Kryon’s palace. This time, we hit hard and without mercy.” His eyes swept across the group, lingering on Vykhor before settling on Evelyn. “And for this crucial mission, we’ll need every resource we have. That means, Evelyn, you can’t stay behind this time.”

Vykhor immediately tensed, his yellow eyes hardening. He straightened, his imposing stature emphasized by the flickering light of the lanterns. “Evelyn is essential, that’s true,” he replied, his voice grave, “but taking her to the front lines is risky. Her mind is her weapon, not her strength.”

Evelyn felt her heart race. The idea of being thrown into the thick of the action terrified her as much as it intrigued her. But she knew she couldn’t stay silent. Taking a deep breath, she spoke up. “I understand the risks, Vykhor,” she said, her voice steady yet resolute. “But I want to help. If that means being out there on the field, then so be it.”

Skye, who had been listening closely, raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. “You’re serious, Evelyn?” she said, her tone a mix of disbelief and respect. “You know this isn’t a game. Out there, it’s real, and chaos doesn’t play nice.”

Evelyn nodded, clenching her hands to hide the slight tremble. “I know. But I’m not completely clueless. I have skills I can use, and I won’t sit back while everyone else risks their lives.”

Rax shot a skeptical look at Vykhor before speaking. “Well, we could use an extra brain managing logistics on the ground,” he admitted, though his tone was still a touch condescending. “But you better keep her safe, Kael’seth. We’ve already lost too many.”

Vykhor clenched his jaw, his inner conflict evident on his face. He was proud of Evelyn, of her courage and determination to fight alongside them. But the thought of her being exposed to the dangers of this mission ate at him. He turned to her, his eyes, usually so fierce, softened by a worry he couldn’t fully hide.

“Fine,” he said finally, his voice rough with contained emotion. “But you stay close to me, Evelyn. At the first sign of danger, you take cover. Clear?”

Evelyn felt a wave of relief and gratitude wash over her. She nodded, her eyes gleaming with determination. “Clear. I’ll do my best not to slow you down.”

Voren watched them, the lines of battle carved into his face relaxing slightly. “Good,” he concluded. “We strike together tonight, and this time, we’ll bring Kryon to his knees.” The colonel stood tall, ready to lead his people with the fury of a nation oppressed for far too long.

As the meeting broke up, Vykhor held Evelyn back for a moment, his gaze locking onto hers. “You’re stronger than I ever imagined,” he murmured. “But promise me you won’t do anything reckless.”

Evelyn felt her cheeks flush, but she gave him a genuine smile. “I promise. We’ll do this together.”

Vykhor nodded, his heart torn between pride and worry. There was no turning back now. The mission against Lord Kryon would be decisive, and this time, Evelyn would be by his side, for better or worse. As the last flickers of the meeting’s lights faded away, the gravity of what lay ahead settled over them.

Preparation time soon gave way to the fateful moment. Darkness enveloped Lord Kryon’s fortified palace, a hulking monster of metal and stone that seemed to defy the sky with its sharp towers. The wind whipped in icy gusts, carrying with it the rustling whispers of nearby trees. The tension thickened with every passing second, the air heavy with the realization that this battle would determine far more than just their survival.

The mercenaries, ready to infiltrate the enemy stronghold, waited in nervous silence as Vykhor cast one last glance at Evelyn, his thoughts a whirlwind of fear and hope.

Vykhor led the way, his movements calculated, his imposing figure casting shadows that swallowed the light. He signaled with his hand, and Evelyn knelt before an access console embedded in the outer wall. The blinking lights of the panel danced beneath her nimble fingers, which typed with a precise urgency. She could feel the eyes of her teammates on her, but she blocked it out, focusing solely on the task.

Kryna, the Narak’Tharr’s AI, whispered in her earpiece, analyzing the security systems in real-time. “There’s an active surveillance loop, Evelyn. Redirect the energy to the secondary conduits.”

Evelyn nodded, her face tense but resolute. There was no room for fear here, not when every second mattered. A bead of sweat traced down her temple, but she kept typing. Kryon’s defenses were sophisticated, far more than she had expected. Yet her resolve didn’t waver.

Behind her, Vykhor watched every move, ready to spring into action at the first hint of danger. The tension within him was a living thing. This mission was different. Knowing Evelyn was here, vulnerable despite her skills, was enough to drive him mad with worry. But he didn’t show it. His yellow eyes settled on her briefly, and when she turned to look at him, he gave her an encouraging nod. That small gesture gave Evelyn an extra ounce of courage.

“External defenses are down,” she finally murmured, a sigh of relief escaping her lips. “We’re good to go.”

Vykhor straightened. “Rax, Skye, you’re up.”

The two mercenaries moved swiftly. Rax melted into the shadows, his cybernetic body blending seamlessly with the darkness, while Skye took her position, ready to eliminate any remaining guards with her precision rifle. One silent, perfect shot dropped the first soldier. The second never knew what hit him before he crumpled to the ground.

“All clear,” Skye whispered over the comms. Vykhor gave a nod and motioned for the rest of the group to advance.

Their footsteps barely made a sound on the cold, hard floor. They navigated the labyrinthine halls of the palace, a merciless maze of metal and technology. Evelyn stayed close to Vykhor, drawing strength from his imposing presence to steady her racing heart. There was no room for mistakes. Any slip-up here meant death for her, for Vykhor, for all of them.

They reached another console. Evelyn knelt again, her fingers trembling slightly as she hacked into the surveillance network. Complex patterns flashed across her screen. But something felt wrong. The sequences of code seemed disturbingly familiar, like an echo of something she had known. Her hypermnésic mind pulled at blurry memories—wires, cold labs, the murmurs of men in white coats...

“Evelyn,” Vykhor murmured, sensing her unease. “Stay focused.”

She shook herself, pushing the memories away. She finished the hack, but a seed of doubt had been planted in her mind. Why did Kryon’s technology resemble that of the laboratory?

“We’re in,” she said, standing up. “Cameras are offline.”

Vykhor briefly touched her shoulder, a subtle but reassuring gesture. They moved on to the throne room, where massive doors loomed before them, menacing and unyielding. Vykhor signaled Rax, who attached a code-cracking device to the electronic lock.

The doors creaked open, revealing a vast chamber bathed in harsh lights. At the center stood Lord Kryon’s throne, a monstrous structure adorned with glowing runes of electric power. But it wasn’t the sight of the throne that made them freeze.

A force field shimmered, crackling with energy, blocking their path. Vykhor cursed, his fists clenching.

“It’s a trap,” he growled, his yellow eyes blazing with fury.

Kryon had been waiting for them. A cold shiver ran down Evelyn’s spine. The force field wasn’t just a barrier—it was a warning. Somewhere in the shadows, she knew Lord Kryon was watching, ready to play his final hand in this deadly game.

What none of them realized was that Kryon wasn’t the only one observing from the darkness. The mysterious emissary, shrouded in a cloak that made him almost invisible in the shadows, watched the scene unfold with sharp, calculating eyes. Every movement of the rebels and mercenaries, every gesture from Vykhor and word from Evelyn, was analyzed, scrutinized.

This trap was Kryon’s last chance to prove he was still worthy of their formidable master’s protection. Failure wasn’t an option, and the emissary knew that. He had his orders: if Kryon faltered, his task was to silence him—not out of mercy, but to keep vital secrets buried. The dictator couldn’t be allowed to fall alive into rebel hands. It would jeopardize information far too dangerous to be exposed.

And most of all, Evelyn Ashcroft had to remain in the dark. She could never learn the true importance of her role in their master’s grand design. Such knowledge would unravel everything.

The emissary’s hand drifted to the weapon hidden beneath his cloak, ready to strike at a moment’s notice. He was determined, relentless, and he knew that no matter the cost, he would ensure the secret stayed buried—even if it meant sacrificing everyone in his path.