Page 53 of Third

Tor’Vek exhaled through his teeth, forcing the killing urge down. The tremor in his arms stilled, eased by her fragile, steadying presence.

Selyr’s hologram tilted its head, voice laced with mockery. “That’s right, primitive human. You creatures know all about raw emotion. You excel at it. But for an Intergalactic Warrior to sink to such brutish lows—how exquisitely humiliating.”

Anya’s lips curled into a cold smile. “Funny. You talk a lot for someone who hides behind projections.”

The hologram flickered, Selyr’s eyes narrowing, the amusement bleeding into something harder—aflash of real anger, brief but unmistakable.

Tor’Vek straightened subtly, sensing the shift—and smiling, grim and silent.

“Where was I?” Selyr went on, with forced cheerfulness, “There is a way out for you two. The ship’s central stabilizer was, regrettably, destroyed in the crash. Fortunately, there is a backup located at a remote access panel. Seven kilometers northwest. Buried in a valley system laced with rock storms and structural collapse.”

Tor’Vek’s voice sliced into the silence. “How do you know about the stabilizer?”

Selyr’s grin sharpened. “Because I gave it a little… encouragement. Your ship’s primary stabilizer had a perfectly healthy operational life expectancy—until I embedded a microscopic stress fracture in its core matrix. Under the strain of atmospheric entry, it was only a matter of time before it burned out.” He chuckled, low and cruel. “Asimple push in the right place. Physics did therest.”

Tor’Vek’s jaw tightened, but his voice emerged cold and measured. “You tampered with our systems while we were still imprisoned. Forced our ship to this planet and then destroyed our primary stabilizer, stranding us here. How long have you been planningthis?”

Selyr lifted a brow, mock innocence etched across his face. “Oh, long enough. Long enough to ensure you’d be crazed with rage and craving, and beautifully dependent on one other. It’s all part of the experiment, after all. The real question is—how long can you last before you destroy yourselves?”

“The countdown,” Anya stated flatly.

“Exactly,” Selyr continued, savoring every word. His eyes gleamed with malice. “Fortunately for you, there is that backup stabilizer I mentioned. But one misstep, and either the environment will kill you... or your emotionswill.”

His grin widened. “As you humans say... tick tock. The countdown has already begun. Forty-eight solar units, give or take. Retrieve the part, reinstall it, and perhaps the installation will pause the countdown—assuming you survive long enough to findout.”

A pulse of white light surged from the bracelet on Tor’Vek’s wrist.

48:00:00

Anya gasped.

Selyr leaned in slightly, voice dropping. “I’d say good luck, but… you will not survive long enough for luck to matter.”

The hologram wavered—and vanished.

Silence thundered in the chamber.

Tor’Vek stood frozen.

The tendons in his arms stood out like cords. His breath hissed between his teeth. Muscles rippled with the effort not to tear the nearest console off its hinges. The faintest tremble ran down hisarms.

He was losing the battle.

Anya cast one last lingering look at the space once broadcasting Selyr’s hologram and brought her attention back to Tor’Vek. She stepped to him, slowly, and laid a shaking hand against his forearm. Not gripping. Just touching.

His jaw tightened further.

But he didn’t pullaway.

The tremble stilled.

For a breath.Two.

And then, quietly, he lowered his fists.

Not a surrender.

A choice.

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