Page 10 of Nebula Hearts
Tynrax drops low. Sweeps the legs out from under the closest one. It crashes to the ground and he’s on it instantly. His fist drives through its carapace like the armor is made of paper. Once. Twice. The hunter spasms and goes still.
The second hunter leaps onto his back. Mandibles close around his shoulder. Should tear through flesh. Should cripple him.
He reaches back, grabs it by the leg, and flips it over his shoulder. The hunter hits the ground in front of him. He stomps down. The carapace crunches. Breaks. The hunter stops moving.
The third hunter hesitates. Actually hesitates, like it’s reconsidering this fight.
Smart. Very smart.
Tynrax turns toward it. Takes one step forward.
The hunter bolts. Runs for the entrance. Fast.
Not fast enough.
He crosses the distance in maybe three strides. Catches it by the rear leg. Drags it backward. The hunter screeches, mandibles clicking frantically, legs scrabbling against stone.
He doesn’t make it quick. Doesn’t make it clean. Just tears into it with his bare hands until it stops fighting.
Silence falls. Broken only by Tynrax’s breathing, harsh, ragged, and a continued hum of the facility.
I’m frozen. Can’t move. Can’t process what I just watched. That was Tynrax. Commander Tynrax. Reserved, controlled, precise Tynrax. Who just killed six armored predators with his bare hands.
Sarpi’s staring too. Blaster frozen, like he’s forgotten he was holding it.
Tynrax straightens. Turns toward us. His markings still blaze violet, and his eyes still glow that impossible light. When he takes a step forward, Sarpi takes a step back.
“Commander?” Sarpi tries again. “We need you to...”
Movement behind us. At the entrance.
A seventh hunter. Bigger than the others. The alpha, probably. It must have been hanging back, waiting to see how the fight went before committing.
Smart strategy. Terrible timing.
It charges straight at Sarpi. Mandibles spread wide. Moving fast enough that I can hear the air whistle past its carapace.
Sarpi tries to turn, but he’s too slow. The alpha’s already mid-leap.
The mandibles close around Sarpi’s throat.
I hear the crunch. See Sarpi’s body go limp instantly, neck bent at an angle that bodies don’t bend. The alpha’s still carrying him backward with its momentum.
Then Tynrax hits them both.
Faster than should be possible. He crashes into the alpha from the side, rips it away from Sarpi’s body. Both of them, Tynrax and the hunter, go down in a tangle of violence.
There’s a flash of violet light. A sound like thunder.
When it clears, the alpha is dead. Torn apart. Tynrax is standing over it, chest heaving.
And Sarpi...
Sarpi’s on the ground. Not moving. His head at that terrible wrong angle.
“No.” The word comes out as a whisper. “No, no, no...”
Tynrax sways. His markings flicker. Bright. Dim. Bright again. Like a signal degrading.
