CHAPTER 195: WOMEN OF FORCE

"The plan is set," Ryan’s voice cut through the roaring chaos of the reactor chamber. "Let’s move!"

The agreement was made. The desperate, final gambit was underway. Lady Vex’s six elite guards moved forward, their dark green armor gleaming in the angry red light of the failing reactor.

They raised their advanced, Hegemony-grade pulse rifles and unleashed a coordinated volley of fire. Their shots were not aimed at the Echo itself, but at the air around it, creating a shimmering, temporary screen of disruptive energy that pushed back the worst of the chaotic, reality-warping waves.

It was the opening they needed.

Ryan hefted the heavy, cylindrical Stasis Harmonizer. It was surprisingly dense, humming with a contained, orderly power. With Chris Magnus as a living battering ram in front of him and Scarlett a whirlwind of deadly grace at his side, they charged forward, a spearhead of pure determination aimed at the heart of the storm.

They ran across the trembling gantry, sparks raining down around them, the psychic screams from the chaos rift tearing at their minds. A corrupted maintenance drone, its metal chassis twisted into a horrifying insect-like shape, dropped from the ceiling.

Before it could even attack, Chris smashed it aside with a single, brutal swing of his cannon, clearing the path.

They reached the base of the reactor core. The heat and the raw, chaotic energy were immense, a physical, crushing pressure. Ryan slammed the Stasis Harmonizer onto the designated access port, the heavy magnetic clamps locking onto the core’s hull with a deep, solid thunk.

"It’s in place!" he yelled over the roar. He turned to his team. "Now get back! Form a perimeter! No matter what happens, don’t let anything touch me!"

He placed his hands on the activation panel of the Harmonizer. A series of thick, glowing data-cables snaked out from the device and attached themselves to his arms, sinking their contacts into the fabric of his suit. He was plugging himself directly into the machine.

"Here we go," he gritted out, and then he let his power flow.

A torrent of pure, golden-green Genesis energy poured from his body, his life force, his very soul, into the machine. His body convulsed, his back arching as if he had been struck by lightning.

A pained, guttural cry was ripped from his throat. This was not like the gentle, controlled weaving of the Rite of Sealing. This was a raw, brutal, and overwhelming transfer of power.

The Harmonizer, a machine of cold, hard logic, was drinking greedily from the well of his soul.

The device roared to life. The glowing runes on its surface lit up, and a low, deep, harmonic hum began to emanate from it, a single, perfect note of pure order in the chaotic symphony of the dying station.

The Echo of Chaos, a being of pure anarchy, felt this new, growing presence of absolute order, and it panicked. It recognized the ultimate threat. It ceased its work on the reality rift and focused its full, undivided, malevolent attention on the single, vulnerable man who was the source of this terrifyingly logical sound.

It was now up to the women to hold the line.

They formed a defensive circle around Ryan’s convulsing, vulnerable body. It was a small, desperate bastion against a cosmic storm.

Scarlett stood at the front, her two daggers a blur of dark, phasing energy, her face a mask of cold, murderous fury. Beside her, Zara had her swarm of drones form a shimmering, multi-layered energy shield, her scientific mind working at a feverish pace to counter the chaotic energy waves.

And completing their circle was Lady Vex, a thin, deadly-looking energy whip in one hand and a sophisticated blaster pistol in the other, her usual wry smile replaced by a look of fierce, focused concentration. Her own guards formed a secondary, outer ring, their pulse rifles laying down a steady, disciplined curtain of fire.

They became a wall. A bastion of women, protecting the heart of their hope.

The Echo unleashed its full power. It hurled chunks of the reactor casing at them like meteors. It sent waves of pure, disorienting chaos that made the floor seem to turn to liquid. It manifested corrupted drones from the station’s own systems, sending them scuttling and flying at the defenders in a relentless, screeching wave.

The battle was desperate. Zara’s shield flickered and buckled under the strain. One of Vex’s guards cried out as a piece of shrapnel tore through his armor. Scarlett was a whirlwind of motion, her blades a constant, deadly dance, but for every drone she took down, two more seemed to take its place.

High above, in the relative safety of the Odyssey, a different kind of agony was unfolding. Emma, Carmella, and the two women who represented the soul of their alliance’s other pillars; Ilsa Varkov and Seraphina, who had been brought aboard for the final battle watched the scene on a live, high-resolution feed from a stealth drone Zara had launched.

They were too far away to help, forced to be spectators in the most important fight of their lives.

Ilsa Varkov watched, her hands clenched so tightly on the armrests of her chair that the metal groaned in protest. She saw the desperate, heroic stand.

She saw the women, her sisters-in-arms, fighting to protect their lord. And a wave of raw, primal frustration and rage washed over her. She was a warrior. A shield. Her place was down there, in that circle, standing between Ryan and the darkness.

She slammed her fist down on the console, the impact cracking the screen. The feeling of helplessness was a poison, and her love and loyalty, with no outlet, was turning into a pure, cold, and terrible rage.

Seraphina’s reaction was the opposite. She didn’t rage. She prayed. Her hands were clasped before her, her eyes closed, her entire being focused on the battle below.

She was a being of life, and she could feel the immense life force of Ryan being poured into a cold machine. She could feel the chaotic, anti-life energy of the Echo.

She reached out with her own will, her own connection to the living universe, and projected a gentle, invisible aura of vitality and hope towards the defenders. It was a small, desperate act, a whisper of support in a hurricane of violence, but it was all she could do.

Her love was not a sword or a shield, but a prayer, a quiet, desperate plea for life to triumph.

Back in the reactor chamber, the Harmonizer was almost at full power. A bar of light on its side was nearly full. But the Echo was growing more desperate. It knew it was losing. It gathered its chaotic energy for one final, decisive attack.

It couldn’t break their defensive circle with brute force. So it would break them with psychological warfare. It had felt the fierce, protective bond between Ryan and Scarlett. It had seen the raw, possessive fury in her eyes. And it knew her greatest strength was also her greatest weakness.

The Echo of Chaos created a doppelganger .

From a swirling vortex of shadow and chaotic energy, a figure emerged. It was a perfect, dark reflection of Scarlett. It had her face, her form, her daggers.

But its eyes glowed with a wild, uncontrollable crimson light, and its smile was a twisted, feral snarl. This was Scarlett with all of her discipline, all of her control, all of her love stripped away, leaving only her pure, untamed rage and her killer instinct. It was a being of pure, suicidal violence.

This chaotic shadow of Scarlett ignored everyone else. It moved with an impossible, glitching speed, its single-minded purpose clear.

It was going to strike the killing blow on the one person it hated and envied most in the universe: the real Scarlett.