Chapter 31: The Ashcroft Project

As the team moved through the oppressive corridors of Lord Kryon’s palace, a heavy silence settled over them, broken only by the distant sounds of chaos in the outer courtyards. Evelyn stayed close behind Vykhor, her hypermnesic mind on high alert, recording every corner, every suspicious movement. But even her sharpened instincts couldn’t predict what came next.

A sudden explosion rocked the walls with devastating force. Debris rained down, shards of metal and stone scattering like deadly projectiles. The blast hurled Evelyn backward, her body slamming against the cold floor with a jarring impact that stole the air from her lungs. A sharp cry escaped Skye, who rushed to shield Evelyn from the falling rubble, while Vykhor spun around, his golden eyes wide with alarm.

But the explosion was just a diversion. From the shadows, a precise laser shot cut through the air, aimed straight at Evelyn’s heart. In a protective surge, Vykhor threw himself into its path, his prosthetic arm deflecting the deadly beam. The redirected shot struck Evelyn in the shoulder instead, sending her crumpling to the ground, her face pale with pain, her fingers clutching the wound as blood seeped through.

Vykhor was at her side in an instant, his face twisted with fury and fear, ignoring the gunfire that continued to rain around them. His heavy boots clanged against the metallic floor as he dropped to his knees, his golden eyes fixed on her, betraying an unspoken worry he couldn’t entirely mask.

“Evelyn, stay with me,” he murmured, his deep voice almost a plea, a stark contrast to the brutal tension of the battlefield. His gaze swept over her pale face, searching desperately for any sign that she was still holding on.

Half-conscious, Evelyn felt her strength slipping away, her body growing heavier with each passing second. But her mind, despite the pain, refused to falter. Her tear-filled eyes sought Vykhor’s, clinging to the connection as if it were a lifeline.

Then she saw it—a massive shadow behind him, raising a gleaming blade. Her breath hitched.

“Vykhor!” she screamed, adrenaline surging through her body and momentarily numbing the pain. Her voice cut through the chaos like an alarm.

Vykhor turned just in time, his honed reflexes kicking in. The blade came down, but he caught it with his reinforced prosthetic, the clash of metal ringing loudly. In one fluid, brutal motion, he disarmed the attacker and threw them to the ground. The blade skidded out of reach, and in a decisive move, Vykhor plunged his weapon into the guard’s throat. The body crumpled lifelessly at his feet.

He spun back to Evelyn immediately, his protective rage softening as relief flickered across his face. Their eyes met, and for a brief moment, the chaos around them seemed to fade. In that silence, an unspoken intensity passed between them—a mix of gratitude, fear, and a connection they couldn’t ignore.

“You’re reckless,” he muttered, his voice carrying a blend of anger and affection. “But thank you.”

Evelyn, her energy fading fast, managed a faint smile. “You always said I was unpredictable…”

Before he could respond, Skye appeared, her expression tight with concern. “Evelyn can’t keep going like this, Vykhor,” she said firmly, though there was a gentleness in her tone.

Vykhor nodded, his fists clenching briefly in frustration. “Stay with her, Skye,” he ordered, his voice sharp with authority. Rising to his full height, he turned toward the rest of the team, still locked in combat further down the corridor. “We keep moving. One way or another, Kryon falls today.”

But before leaving, he crouched beside Evelyn again, his hand resting firmly but gently on her uninjured shoulder. “You’re stronger than you think. Rest. I’ll be back.”

Even in her weakened state, Evelyn’s heart tightened at the intensity in his gaze. She gave a faint nod, knowing he wouldn’t leave without her silent promise to hold on. As he walked away, his imposing figure disappearing into the chaos, Evelyn whispered, “Come back in one piece, Vykhor.”

The group resumed their slow advance through the suffocating corridors of the palace. The dark metal walls, illuminated by flickering neon lights, seemed to close in around them, amplifying every echoing step. Kryon, still elusive, had laid a series of obstacles to slow their progress: booby-trapped hallways, electronically locked doors, and expertly timed ambushes. But even these calculated maneuvers couldn’t break the relentless determination of Vykhor and his team. With every fallen guard, they drew closer to their goal.

In the shadows, the emissary watched with cold precision. He had seen the incident that nearly claimed Evelyn’s life, and a sinister smile curled his lips. Kryon, in his desperation, had dared to target her, failing to grasp that Evelyn was far more than a simple target. She was essential—a key to something far greater than Kryon could comprehend. The emissary knew his master would never forgive such a misstep. Kryon, arrogant as he was, had already sealed his fate. Every minute he gained was nothing more than an illusion, a brief reprieve before the inevitable.

At the rear, a rebel handed a medkit to Skye. “For your friend. It should stabilize her injuries.”

Skye nodded, her sharp gaze fixed on Evelyn. She knelt beside her, opening the kit with practiced efficiency. Her movements were swift yet controlled, each action precise. Evelyn, weakened but conscious, watched in silence, a mix of gratitude and faint embarrassment flickering in her eyes.

“You’re one tough lady, Evelyn, you know that?” Skye said, her tone laced with dry respect as she glanced up.

Evelyn managed a faint smile, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should,” Skye muttered, applying antiseptic to the wound and eliciting a sharp wince from Evelyn. “But seriously, you’ve got this annoying knack for diving headfirst into danger.”

Despite the pain, Evelyn chuckled softly, appreciating Skye’s blunt humor. “Not like I planned to get shot…”

Skye raised a brow as she wrapped a bandage around Evelyn’s shoulder. “Maybe not, but you jump into the fire like it’s second nature. You know you’re the kind of person people end up respecting, whether they want to or not?”

Touched, Evelyn replied softly, “I just want to help. I don’t want to be dead weight.”

Skye paused, meeting Evelyn’s gaze with surprising intensity. “You’re not dead weight. Not even for a second. But promise me you won’t lose yourself in all this.”

Evelyn nodded, moved by Skye’s words. In that moment, an unlikely bond of friendship solidified between them.

Farther ahead, Vykhor glanced back, his massive silhouette framed by the flickering light. He saw Evelyn and Skye talking, and though his expression remained impassive, a wave of relief coursed through him. Evelyn was safe, and that was enough to fuel his relentless drive forward.

But deep in his mind, he remained vigilant. Kryon hadn’t played his final card, and the emissary, unseen but ever-present, continued pulling the strings in the shadows.

After receiving her treatment, Evelyn’s focus sharpened. Turning to Skye, she spoke with renewed determination. “I need to get to the nearest terminal.”

Skye sighed, recognizing the familiar spark in Evelyn’s eyes. “You’ve got something brewing, don’t you?”

“I always do,” Evelyn replied with a faint, mischievous smile.

Relenting, Skye helped her to her feet. With her uninjured arm looped around Skye’s shoulders, they made their way cautiously through the debris-strewn corridor. At the terminal, Evelyn’s fingers flew across the keyboard, her hypermnesic mind working at full speed, peeling back layers of encryption.

“Rax, I need you,” she called over the comm. “We’re going to cripple Kryon’s systems. If we cut off his communications and lock down his forces, we’ll gain the upper hand.”

Rax’s voice crackled through, a mix of respect and exasperation. “Do you ever stop, genius?”

“Not until we win,” she replied with a determined grin, already lost in her work.

Her efforts brought the team closer to their final goal, inching toward the last stronghold of Lord Kryon. Evelyn’s heart raced as she unlocked a deeply encrypted file within Kryon’s systems. The title froze her in place: The Ashcroft Project.

Her hypermnesic eyes scanned the document, uncovering fragmented but chilling details—human experiments, alien technology, and repeated references to a mysterious patron. One line hit her like a punch to the gut: “Ashcroft must be monitored at all costs. She is the key.”

A cold shiver ran down Evelyn’s spine. The past she thought she had left behind was intricately tied to this monster they were about to face. But why? And who was this patron?

Before she could warn Vykhor, an explosion rocked the palace once again, flooding the room with blinding light. The file disappeared from the screen before she could read further.