The landing was violent. Elara fought the controls of the Astral Wind, wrestling the star-skiff out of the Whisper-Route transition. The hull shrieked, and the environmental seals groaned as the vessel plunged into the atmosphere above the Sunken City of Lyra.

  ?They emerged into the perpetually bruised, turbulent sky of the prison dimension. The view was breathtakingly grim: colossal crystalline spires, half-submerged in the sickly green ocean, piercing the heavy cloud layer.

  ?“We’re stable. Barely,” Elara gasped, wiping sweat from her brow. “We took the exact coordinates Kiyan did. We’re directly above the old Plaza.”

  ?Sera, already at the ramp, loaded the plasma rifle with a high-capacity cell. “Any Vexian signature?”

  ?Elara’s console glowed red. “Massive. Vane didn't come alone. Two Vexian Interceptor-Class Carriers just materialized on the far horizon. They’re locking down the upper airspace. He’s turning Lyra into a fortress.”

  ?Sera looked at the two colossal ships in the distance—too far for her plasma rifle, but a clear declaration of war. Vane wasn't chasing anymore; he was conquering.

  ?“He knew we’d follow,” Sera said, securing her combat harness. “He set a trap for the Wolf, and a larger one for us. We need to create a diversion. Get Kiyan's Obsidian Hand necklace ready. I think Vane wants it back.”

  ?

  ?Before Elara could reply, a holographic communication burst to life on the center console. The image was sharp, cold, and flawless: Master Agent Sirus Vane, clad in his tailored obsidian uniform, his gray eyes fixed on them with surgical precision.

  ?“Sera Voss. And the aged Historian, Elara,” Vane greeted them, his voice smooth and utterly devoid of emotion. “A rather predictable pilgrimage. I had hoped the Nexus collapse would have thinned the herd, but sentimentality prevails.”

  ?Sera stepped into the console’s direct view. “You won’t get the Vault of Creation, Vane. The key is beyond your reach.”

  ?Vane allowed a thin, cruel smile. “The Last Wolf has provided me with the most excellent sport. He successfully collected the first four necessary items, thus activating the second stage of the Architects’ Gate for me. He is currently plunging into the core of this charming prison, performing the retrieval of Gate Two’s component. Kiyan Ren is an excellent tool, Sera, far more obedient than you ever were.”

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  ?“He’s not a tool,” Sera shot back. “And we’re here to ensure he finishes his mission by cutting off his pursuers.”

  ?Vane tilted his head, the movement conveying pure malice. “Bold words for two people in a heavily compromised vessel, surrounded by three hundred thousand metric tons of fully operational Vexian firepower. You will surrender Kiyan’s remaining artifacts, including the little trinket you possess, and I will allow you the brief luxury of a quick execution.”

  ?“I think not,” Sera said, lifting the Obsidian Hand necklace and holding it up to the camera. “You want this? Come and get it. It’s the only way to track the completed Key. Without it, you’re blind to Kiyan’s movements between the Gates.”

  ?Vane’s composure wavered, his eyes narrowing to slits. The necklace, forged from the same material as the Obsidian Key, was indeed a persistent, if weak, tracking beacon.

  ?“A momentary inconvenience,” Vane dismissed, though his tone was colder. He signaled off-screen. “Interceptors, activate standard anti-piracy protocols. Disable their propulsion and bring the vessel to dock. The historian lives. The operative is terminated.”

  ?Elara slammed a manual override. “We’re not waiting! They’re locking on!”

  ?Sera pointed toward the deep, turbulent waters below. “Get us low, Elara. Below the crystalline spires! Use the seismic shielding! If we can put enough physical structure between us and them, their heavy cannons are useless!”

  ?The Astral Wind plummeted, dodging laser-fire from fast-moving Vexian fighters that detached from the Carriers. Elara expertly navigated the decaying airspace, weaving the ship through massive, broken crystalline arches.

  ?“Sera, I’m taking us straight to the Plaza,” Elara yelled over the alarms. “Kiyan is down below, and Vane is too preoccupied with controlling the airspace to descend immediately. We have a window of five minutes at most!”

  ?Sera was ready at the lowering ramp. “Five minutes is all we need.”

  ?The Astral Wind executed a brutal, controlled crash-landing onto the massive, flooded Plaza deck of Lyra—the same place Kiyan had entered. Vexian fighters immediately screamed overhead, unable to risk hitting the invaluable, ancient structure.

  ?Sera threw a line out. “You stay and keep the shields up, Elara. Buy me time. I’m going after Kiyan. If Vane tries to land, you run the historical data through the ship’s comms and jam his frequencies.”

  ?Sera slipped on a regulator, gave the obsidian necklace one final glance, and plunged from the ruined deck into the oppressive, green-lit water of the Sunken City of Lyra. The Last Wolf now had a highly capable warrior running interference, directly into Vane’s line of fire.

  ?Sera has plunged into the city, directly into the danger zone, with Vane's interceptors scrambling above. Kiyan is deep in the core, facing the next obstacle.