Chapter 162: Taking Control (ii)
Xavier gritted his teeth.
The last elite wasn’t like the others. No rifles. No armor.
Just fists glowing with red heat.
The guy moved like a ghost—phasing through walls, vanishing mid-step, reappearing behind Xavier with a blow strong enough to crack metal.
Xavier rolled, chest burning. His coat was scorched. His shoulder was dislocated.
He spat blood. "You’re starting to piss me off."
The elite didn’t answer. He just came again.
Fast.
Xavier tried shooting—missed.
Got kicked in the gut—flew back—slammed into a wall.
Crack.
Pain flared through his spine. His gun slid across the floor.
The elite marched forward, fist raised, glowing brighter. "You don’t belong here, rat."
Xavier laughed, even as his bones screamed. "Neither do you."
Click.
The turrets on the ceiling whirred to life.
The elite paused. Looked up. "What—"
The entire hallway lit up with gunfire.
High-velocity rounds tore through everything.
The elite tried to vanish again, but it didn’t work. Reva had locked down the internal phase dampeners. No more ghost tricks.
He was trapped.
He screamed once before the rounds minced him into pulp.
Xavier stood up slowly, wiping blood from his mouth. The turrets turned, recognized him, and powered down.
He grinned. "About time, girls."
All across the ship, chaos erupted.
Doors slammed shut. Lights went haywire. Mercs were getting gunned down by their own defenses. Explosions rocked the lower decks. Fires bloomed in the distance. Screams echoed through the halls.
In the console room, Reva leaned back in her chair, fingers still tapping, smirking. "Xavier’s path is clear."
Lyra stood beside her, sword ready. "They’ll be coming for us."
"They can try."
And they did.
The commander barked into his comms. "Retake the console! Now! Everyone move to deck five!"
His men rushed forward, trying to push through the corridors. But the doors didn’t open. They locked. Flooded. Vented air. Electrocution traps fried armor.
One by one, they fell.
Until only the main hall remained.
The one leading to the console room.
The lights flickered.
Xavier was already standing there.
Half his shirt was torn off. Blood dripped down his cheek. Still standing. Still waiting.
Like a knight at the gates.
The mercs paused.
The commander arrived behind them, scowling. "Move."
One of the elites looked back. "Sir, he’s—"
"I said move!"
They surged forward, but this time, Reva couldn’t stop them all.
They threw grenades. EMPs. Jammed signals. Fired explosive rounds.
The console screens behind Reva cracked.
Smoke filled the room.
And then the mechanisms sparked, overloaded, and burst.
Reva slammed her hands down. "Shit! They’re taking back the system!"
Lyra stepped forward. "Then we stop them the old way."
Reva grabbed her sidearm. "Let’s finish this."
The ship was falling apart.
Flames licked the ceiling. Alarms howled. Gunfire rang like war drums.
And in the middle of it all, Xavier walked through the carnage with smoke clinging to his back like a cape. His hands were stained with blood, guns low on ammo, bones cracked—but his eyes burned brighter than ever.
Two elites blocked his way. Scarface and Tattoo.
Both grinning.
Scarface cracked his knuckles. "Round two."
Xavier didn’t speak. He shot first.
A clean hit to Tattoo’s shoulder—bone snapped, blood sprayed.
Tattoo screamed, dropped his gun.
Scarface lunged, but Xavier ducked and slammed his knee into the bastard’s ribs. Then elbowed his jaw—hard enough to shatter a few teeth.
Scarface fell, coughing blood.
Tattoo tried to crawl away. Xavier stomped on his back, pinning him down.
He aimed the gun point-blank—
Then paused.
A grin tugged at his lips.
"Nah," he muttered, turning away. "I’ll deal with you both later. Properly."
He left them twitching in the flames.
Down the hall, the girls were ripping through mercs like reapers.
Lyra was surgical—slitting throats, stabbing chinks in armor, shooting directly into eye slits like she’d been trained since birth. There was no hesitation. No mercy.
"Cover the left," she said, without emotion.
She moved like a machine.
Reva didn’t.
Reva was chaos.
Her eyes glowed crimson. Her claws were out. Her skin was pale with veins bulging beneath it. She tore through enemies like they were made of paper, draining blood from one and hurling another against the wall so hard his spine snapped.
Her mouth was red.
Her laughter echoed.
They weren’t just fighting.
They were dominating.
In the main deck, the commander waited.
His armor was scorched. His cape was torn. But he stood tall, blade humming with energy.
He turned as Xavier stepped in through the smoke.
"Time to kill you."
Xavier tossed his broken rifle aside and cracked his neck. "Nah, time to die."
One merc pressed the trigger and tried to shoot Xavier, but Xavier used his power and controlled the gun and the bullets hit surrounding mercs instead.
The commander’s eyes narrowed. "The power you used... that wasn’t gear."
Xavier smirked.
"Are you a Nova?"
"Maybe."
That one word made the commander flinch.
But then he steadied himself and pointed his sword at Xavier’s chest. "You had help. There’s a traitor in my ship."
Xavier walked forward. "No. There wasn’t."
The commander frowned. "Then who killed Piolet?"
Xavier stopped, just a few feet away now.
"I did."
A beat of silence.
Then the commander roared and charged.
Their blades clashed—sword against stolen steel. Sparks flew. Every hit shook the deck. Xavier dodged, countered, slammed the hilt into the commander’s ribs, kicked him back. The commander swung wild, tried to stab—Xavier caught the blade mid-air with one hand and used his power to bend it.
"Fuck—!"
The commander staggered.
Xavier stepped in, lifted him with pure force, and slammed him into the wall so hard it dented.
"You killed my men!" the commander shouted.
"You tried to kill my girls," Xavier whispered.
The commander spat blood.
Xavier pulled him forward—and then drove the stolen blade straight into his gut.
Twisted it.
The commander gasped with wide eyes.
"You lose," Xavier said, coldly.
Then he yanked the blade up, slicing through armor and bone, and dropped the corpse.
Xavier sat down on the floor and leaned against a wall.
And then Reva and Lyra walked in.
Reva flicked blood from her claws. Lyra wiped her blade.
"Ship’s ours," Reva said.
Xavier exhaled and looked down at the commander’s body. "Yeah."
Then he turned to them.
"Let’s burn it all."