Page 72 of Stars in Nova

His glowing eyes met hers, and for a moment, he knew she preferred the man beneath the mask.

The one who had kissed her with such intensity, who had held her as though she were the only thing anchoring him to this world.

Damn, it gave him fuel, lit a fire in his belly.

He wanted to win for her.

Raising his chin, he forced the storm within him to refocus, his attention turning to the approaching enemy.

‘Stay close,’ he growled, his voice quiet, no less commanding.

As they moved deeper into the tunnels, his aura loomed behind her, a living tempest ready to unleash its fury.

Her soldiers were already assembling, their weapons gleaming under the cavern lights.

She barked orders, her voice carrying over the rising chaos. ‘Defensive positions along the central passage! Hold them at the bottleneck. Fluid units prepare for flood containment. We push them back, no matter what.’

Kisan stood at her side, breathing steadily despite the mask’s presence. ‘I’ve got your six.’

‘You’d better,’ she replied, a smirk breaking through her tension.

The mask clamped tighter to his skull, the metal tendrils searing into his implants as if the device sought to merge with him.

Kisan’s vision sharpened, the gloomy tunnel glowing with enhanced clarity around him.

Each slight movement of the advancing cyborgs telegraphed their intent, and he parsed them before they were complete—an arm raised to strike, a weapon leveled to fire, a shift in formation.

He got ahead of each motion, his weapon already aimed as their triggers pulled.

His hands gripped his rifle, his kinetic force guided his aim.

He squeezed the trigger, sending a precise volley of laser blasts down the corridor. Each shot found its mark, piercing vital circuits and joints and dropping the cyborgs like crumpled marionettes.

A warning pulse vibrated through his body—precognition from the artifact on his face.

He ducked without thinking, a plasma projectile whizzing past his head, its heat searing the air.

Rising, he pivoted, using the momentum to fire another burst. Two more androids fell, their metallic bodies clanging against the stone.

The Rider advanced, his boots crunching over debris, his aqua eyes blazing beneath the mask’s translucent glow.

The energy coursing through him was intoxicating, a raw surge of power that sharpened his senses to razor precision. But with it came a nagging edge of strain—like a string pulled too taut.

A flash of movement.

His prescience flared, and Kisan spun, slamming his rifle’s butt into the head of a cyborg that had lunged at him.

The creature staggered, its optical sensors flickering, but the Guardian was already on it.

He drove his elbow into its chest, sending a pulse of kinetic energy through the strike. The cyborg’s torso caved inward, sparks flying as it collapsed.

‘Samira!’ he roared, his bellow echoing off the stone walls, layered with the metallic resonance of the mask. ‘They’re regrouping at the tunnel entrance!’

Her command carried back through the din. ‘Flood them!’

Her hands moved in fluid, sweeping arcs.

The grotto shuddered as a torrent of liquid surged forward, a wall of liquid fury that swept through the advancing cyborg ranks.

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