Intergalactic conquest with an AI-Chapter 420: The enemy within. {8}

"I don’t remember hearing anything about a tech squad being dispatched here," he growled, his boots thudding against the metal floor as he closed the distance between them. "So go ahead and tell me. Who sent you?"

He raised a gloved hand, reaching out like he intended to grab her shoulder. "You better start talking, or—"

But before his fingers could even brush her armor, a flash of red light streaked through the air swift and merciless. freёnovelkiss.com

The soldier’s hand... kept floating in the air for a split second, then dropped to the floor with a wet thud, severed cleanly at the wrist. Blood sprayed across the tent’s wall like a violent signature.

The man stared at the stump in disbelief, eyes wide, his mouth hanging open in silent horror.

"What the fu—"

But before the rest of the sentence could escape his lips, Lyra was already in motion. Her right hand, still glowing faintly with energy from the attack, reached forward and grabbed him by the throat.

She yanked him forward with terrifying strength, her crimson eyes gleaming from under the shadow of the helmet. Her voice came out like ice, cold, precise, and unforgiving.

"You touched something precious," she whispered. "So now, you pay the price."

With a twist of her wrist, there was a loud crack and the soldier dropped to the floor like a ragdoll, his body limp, his eyes remaining still wide in shock.

Lyra stood above him in silence, her breath calm despite the anger raging inside her.

Another soldier at the far end of the tent turned around, his eyes darting from the severed hand to Lyra’s shadowy figure standing in front of the mutilated corpse of his friend.

"INTRU—!" He didn’t finish the word.

A crimson claw ripped through the air, slashing across his neck in a blur. He dropped soundlessly, blood pooling beneath him as he collapsed beside the first body.

Now only silence remained in the tent again... thick, tense, and absolute.

Lyra exhaled slowly and turned back to the damaged form of the bot maid, her heartbeat echoing in her ears. Her disguise was ruined now, and soon the entire camp would know someone had infiltrated them.

She let out a long, sorrowful sigh as she slowly walked toward the shattered remains of the bot maid. Each step felt heavy, like her heart was dragging her down. When she finally got close enough, she knelt beside the ruined metal body.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she reached out and gently touched the bot’s broken face. Despite the scratches and dents, there was still a trace of the gentle expression that had once made Lyra feel warm.

"...I’m sorry..." she whispered, her voice shaking. "Once again... someone who showed me kindness... who cared for me... is gone." Her eyes stung, but no tears came. She had shed too many already.

Carefully, as if holding something sacred, she gathered the bot maid into her arms. Her movements were tender, almost like she feared the broken pieces might fall apart at any moment.

With a deep breath, she stood up and turned toward the entrance of the tent, determined to leave the same quiet way she had entered.

But before she could take even a single full step, a hail of bullets ripped through the tent’s side, tearing through fabric, splinters, and shadows like a violent storm of metal and fire.

"Ugh!" Lyra gasped as she dove to the ground, barely dodging the deadly spray. In an instant, she slammed her hand onto the blood-soaked earth.

Using the blood from the two soldiers she had killed along with a bit of her own crimson essence, she quickly shaped a protective sphere around herself. The swirling red shield shimmered like liquid glass, pulsing with eerie life.

The bullets kept coming, pounding against the blood dome. It trembled under the impact as more of the tent was shredded and torn away by the relentless gunfire.

"Cease fire! Stop shooting!" came a sharp, commanding voice from just outside.

The gunfire stopped at once.

Stepping into the ruined tent was the owner of it, the leader of the squad. His uniform was sharp, his eyes sharp and tired. In his hand, he held a glowing holo-screen.

Data flickered across it, showing his team’s status. Two red dots blinked on the display, showing that two soldiers were down. It also revealed their final locations: right there, in the tent. The leader’s face darkened.

Lyra had no way of knowing this man wasn’t just a cold-hearted officer. He was the kind of leader who actually cared for his troops enough to implant bio-monitors and location transmitters in each of them. He knew exactly when they died and where.

His eyes locked onto the blood shield glowing in front of him.

"Burn it down," he said coldly, though his voice trembled with restrained fury.

Without hesitation, two of his soldiers stepped forward. Each carried a flamethrower. The loud fwoosh of igniting fire filled the air as twin jets of flame surged forward.

The tent’s remains were quickly consumed in an inferno of heat and smoke. The blood sphere hissed and bubbled as the fire reached it. Blood arts were so powerful, so reliable in healing and defense but had one fatal weakness... fire.

Especially the searing, chemical flames from military-grade flamethrowers. Lyra’s crimson barrier began to melt away, sizzling as her regenerative energy was overwhelmed and broken down.

And inside the burning wreckage, Lyra realized with dread... she was completely exposed.

{Screw it! All offense! I’ll trust my regeneration! Don’t fail me now!}

That desperate thought exploded in Lyra’s mind as her eyes flared with crimson light. With a deep breath and a growl of defiance, she launched herself upward, out of the burning, half-melted blood sphere. Flames licked at her boots as she soared through the smoky air.

In mid-air, her hands flared with power. With a snap of her fingers, the damaged blood sphere behind her unraveled, shifting and warping into giant, clawed crimson hands.

The hands spun like wheels of death and came crashing down around the tent, slamming into the nearby soldiers with bone-shaking force.

The ground trembled as the soldiers were flung back, crashing against vehicles, crates, and the hard-packed earth. Groans and gasps filled the air but despite the brutal impact, most of them quickly staggered back to their feet. Their personal energy shields had absorbed most of the damage.

"Bring her down! NOW!" the squad leader shouted out while already opening fire with his laser rifle. His precise bursts of blue energy streaked toward Lyra like angry lightning.

"Argh! Damn it!" Lyra hissed, curling her body tightly in mid-air, using her arms to shield her face while cradling the broken bot maid against her chest. "Just who the hell are these guys?!"

The weight of the bot maid made it harder to move, but Lyra gritted her teeth and held her tight. She couldn’t let her go.

Her blood flared once more, and from her back, two wide, jagged crimson wings unfurled with a violent burst of energy. They shimmered like molten glass, dripping with glowing veins of red energy.

But before they could fully spread, a brutal storm of bullets and lasers ripped through the sky. Dozens of impacts tore into her body, ripping her clothes to shreds, spraying blood in every direction. But instead of weakening her, the blood helped.

Her body, trained in the arts of crimson regeneration, used the pain, the wounds, and the blood itself to harden. To protect her vitals. She endured it, grimacing through the agony, until finally her wings locked into place.

Then, with a furious flap, she blasted forward like a meteor toward the edge of the battlefield. But she had forgotten something... Something critical.

The barrier....

Her entire body collided headfirst with the invisible wall in the sky. The impact was brutal. Energy rippled out across the dome as she bounced back, dazed, spiraling downward.

"Oh, fuck! how could I forget something this important?!" she cried out, stunned and furious.

And just then a trio of explosions erupted around her like mini supernovas. Missiles had been fired from a tank below, aimed directly at her airborne position.

"Good shot, you bastards!" shouted one of the soldiers from atop the tank, pumping a fist in the air.

"Move out! Find out if that thing got blown to pieces or not!" the commander shouted out. His voice was cold and calm, but underneath it was a current of restrained hatred.

The soldiers began to fan out from the destroyed tent, weapons at the ready, heading toward the place where Lyra had fallen.

Meanwhile, lying in a crater, Lyra coughed hard while blood poured from her lips. Her vision swam. Pain screamed through every nerve.

The blasts had torn deep. Entire chunks of her flesh had been burned or blasted away. Her arms were shredded, and one of her legs was broken at the knee so that even the bone was visible in several places, and even her internal organs were bruised and bleeding.

But she wasn’t done.... Not yet.

From deep within her body, a golden glow began to rise. Her blood shimmered... no longer just crimson, but touched with divine radiance.

Rex’s golden blood.

It was the rarest, most powerful substance she carried, the one thing she had saved for the moment between life and death. Now, it pulsed through her veins like molten light, rushing to repair everything.

Her shredded muscles began to knit themselves back together. Torn flesh bubbled and reattached. Broken bones mended in seconds, and new energy surged through her body. The bot maid was still clutched against her chest, untouched by the blast.

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