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  Manus turned in time to see a grenade detonate in his face. Seizing his opening, Owen dove under the blast before it could consume the corridor. Once on the other side, his psychic vision revealed Bralu.

  “Thanks, Cadet. What are you doing here? I told you to focus on the shield generator,” Owen chided.

  “Already taken care of, Sensei. The generator is scrap metal. I had some extra time, and I decided to come save you.”

  “Where are your men?”

  Bralu paused before answering. “Gone.”

  Bowing his head, Owen admitted, “Mine too. The Ronin I was fighting killed them.”

  “At least I avenged them and saved you at the same time. The dude took a point-blank grenade blast to the face. If that didn’t kill him, then nothing will,” Bralu assured.

  Suddenly, Owen and Bralu felt a psychic shockwave shake their minds, causing them to briefly lose their balance. It was as though the very fiber of their being was being torn apart by an unseen force. The two Bushi turned their attention to Manus and were surprised to see that he was still standing despite his injuries. The Vice Shogun was enveloped by a veil of smoke, and they could hear the sound of raspy breathing. When the smoke cleared, Owen and Bralu were in for a shock.

  Manus possessed severe burns along his chest and upper arms. His face was blown off, leaving behind a gaping cavity in his skull. The source of the raspy breathing came from Manus’s exposed trachea, which fluttered with each breath he took. His brain was exposed but miraculously intact. The very sight of the disfigured and faceless man horrified and revolted Owen and Bralu.

  “Impossible! How is he alive?” Bralu exclaimed.

  “Pain is his power. We have to run. If he is able to move, he’ll be unstoppable,” Owen warned.

  “How? He has no eyes. He can’t see us.”

  “Neither can I.”

  As the cold truth of Owen’s words chilled him, Manus was already on the move. He reached out with his free hand, and a blast of telekinetic energy burst from his palm, sending Owen and Bralu flying across the hall until they hit a wall at the far end. The force of the wave was like being hit with a raging river current, and fighting back was futile. When they struck the wall, the wind was forced from their lungs, and the wall cracked. Fortunately, Owen and Bralu cushioned the impact by coating themselves in psychic barriers. Even so, the crash hurt.

  Upon regaining their senses, Owen and Bralu looked down the hall and saw Manus striding toward them. He slashed at the walls and ceiling, setting them ablaze with his Kiru. At first, Manus’s actions seemed random, but it was a clear attempt to intimidate his victims.

  Complete dread consumed Bralu when he saw Manus, and he whispered, “I’ve seen this! This is it! This is my vision!”

  “What vision?”

  “I’m a dead man.”

  “Run!”

  Suddenly, Manus materialized in front of them with blinding speed and impaled Owen through the gut with his sword, nailing him to the wall. A geyser of blood burst from Owen’s mouth as he was eviscerated.

  “Sensei!” Bralu screamed when he saw his mentor impaled.

  With his final breath, Owen wheezed, “R-run!”

  “Bastard!” Bralu cursed as he tried to strike Manus with his Kiru.

  Manus ripped his Kiru from Owen’s guts and slashed across Bralu’s chest. Blood sprayed from Bralu’s wound. The wound stung like a thousand hornets. Manus then kicked Bralu hard in the stomach, sending him tumbling backward. Bralu scrambled to his feet, but Manus was already on him with a two-handed strike. After deflecting Manus’s blow, Bralu was met with an overwhelming barrage of strikes. Manus’s movements were so fast and unpredictable that it looked as though he was wielding a hundred blades at once. Bralu was barely able to defend himself and he did not have a chance to truly utilize his Dragon Style. As a result, Bralu’s frantic defenses left multiple openings that resulted in slashes and cuts along his arms and legs.

  Swiftly, the vengeful anger Bralu felt toward Manus vanished. The pain of his injuries were nothing compared to the all-consuming fear he felt as he fended off the bulk of Manus’s onslaught. The fleshy hole where Manus’s face used to be looked like the gateway to hell, waiting to swallow Bralu whole. His ears were filled with Manus’s raspy breathing coming from his ruptured trachea. Desperately, he tried to get away from the faceless monstrosity, but Manus kept close to Bralu, never giving his prey room to breathe. Despair consumed him as he realized the hopelessness of his situation. He could not defeat Manus or escape.

  ______

  Kyle watched from the command bridge of the Hulbert as the final assault on the Shogunate dreadnaught continued. Frustration filled the room as Kyle and his crew watched the seemingly endless bombardment on the dreadnaught. The top of the enemy flagship was ablaze from the constant dive bombs. While this was happening, the allied fleets were taking heavy casualties until only a fraction of their combined strength remained.

  “This is outrageous! This dreadnaught is completely different from the models we fought in the past, and not just because of its fleet-killing cannon. Even without its cannon, it still has enough firepower to be a fleet killer. Even with its shield down, its hull is thicker than previous models. Are we even close to cracking that shell?” Kyle asked.

  One technician replied, “The bombers are running out of ammunition, Captain. We’re just not causing enough damage.”

  “What is the status of our forces? Can we still press on the attack?”

  “The Spica Defense Fleet is down to a handful of ships, and the Coalition armada lost more than half its vessels. If we don’t destroy or disable the dreadnaught, we will lose through attrition. We are also receiving reports from Spica Prime. Our ground forces are being overrun by the Feldorbot army. What do we do, Captain?” the technician pleaded.

  Kyle contemplated the unwinnable situation they were in. They were nowhere close enough to destroy the Shogunate flagship, and Kyle’s own forces were falling fast. If the dreadnaught was not destroyed in time, the entire allied fleet would be wiped out and Londinium would fall to the Shogunate. Thoughts about his family and home rippled through Kyle’s mind as he considered his options.

  Finally, Kyle ordered, “All hands, abandon ship and fall back to Spica Prime. Head to the escape pods now.” Within moments, the entire crew left the command bridge until only Commander Greast remained. “I told you to abandon ship, Commander.”

  “What about you, Captain?” Greast asked, his eyes sad.

  “I’m going to ram the Hulbert into the dreadnaught.”

  “No! You can’t do that! You’ll die!”

  Placing a hand on his chest, Kyle countered, “Have you forgotten? I’m already dead. If I’m going to die anyway, I would rather die by giving my life to save my home, my family, and my people. Now, do as I command and go to the escape pods.”

  “Anything else, sir?”

  Kyle reached for his helmet, and with a switch, it hissed open at the seams. He removed his helmet, revealing his mangled face, which made Greast cringe.

  Then Kyle handed Greast his helmet, saying, “Take this to my family. Now go.”

  Taking the helmet, Greast bowed his head and left the command bridge. With haggard breaths, Kyle maneuvered himself toward the pilot’s seat. He monitored the controls to make sure all the escape pods were launched. The entire frigate rumbled as enemy ships attacked it. Sparks started flying from the corners of the bridge. After a tense while, the ship’s computer signaled the launch of the escape pods with a deep chime.

  Pressing the communicator on the console, Kyle declared, “This is a message to all Spica Defense Fleet and Coalition vessels. Stand clear of the Shogunate armada.”

  “For what reason, Captain Pramar?” Admiral Corban’s voice asked over the speaker.

  “I’m about to do a kamikaze run against the enemy flagship. Retreat from the battle.”

  After a long pause, Cordban’s voice declared, “Your sacrifice will be remembered, Capta
in. God speed.”

  Kyle turned off the communicator and returned his attention to the controls. Through the bridge window, he could see the allied fleet moving away from the battle.

  “All right. Everyone’s safe, so it is up to me. If I am going to take down that dreadnaught, I’m going to need a divine wind, and that is what I have,” Kyle said as he pressed various controls. Once everything was ready, Kyle pretended to be talking to his absent crew and said, “Target locked. Engines full power. Brace for impact.”

  The Hulbert rumbled more violently as its four engines roared fiercely. The Shogunate flagship was right in front of the Hulbert as it charged toward it. Kyle smiled as he imagined the frightened faces of the dreadnaught’s crew. It was not long before the dreadnaught focused its cannons on the Hulbert and fired. They were clearly trying to destroy the frigate before it reached the flagship. Kyle shuddered in his seat as the Hulbert was struck by laser blast after laser blast. As the impact was about to happen, Kyle took his final breath and closed his eyes. The light and fire consumed him.

  ______

  The Hulbert’s escape pods swarmed Spica Prime’s orbit as they headed toward the planet’s surface. Inside his escape pod, Greast looked out his window and watched as the Hulbert collided with the front of the Shogunate dreadnaught. Even though the frigate was only a third of the dreadnaught’s size, it was still able to crush the flagship’s front. Then a blinding explosion filled the void of space, releasing a shockwave that crippled the remainder of the Shogunate armada. With the dreadnaught disabled, the enemy fighter drones stopped operating and drifted aimlessly through the vast emptiness.

  His heart heavy with grief, Greast looked at Kyle’s helmet in his hands and murmured, “It has been an honor serving under you, Captain Pramar.”

  ______

  Devan and his defenders continued their brutal battle with the Feldorbot army. After an hour of grueling effort, Londinium’s garrison had been pushed from the city’s walls to the center of the settlement. Multiple buildings were demolished and set ablaze while the streets were littered with the remains of dead defenders and dismantled robots.

  As for Devan himself, the skirmish had taken a grievous toll on him. His cybernetic arm and the metal casing of his right leg were torn off. His pressurized suit of armor was ripped to shreds, fluid spewing from the joints. Under his armor, he sustained several wounds that were bleeding profusely. In his remaining hand, he brandished his crude spear. He breathed heavily as he continued his efforts to beat the robots back.

  “Hold the line!” Devan shouted over and over again.

  Desperation and iron determination drove Devan and his soldiers as they clashed with their mechanical foes. Neither pride nor foolhardiness compelled them. They were guided by their hatred toward the Shogunate and their desire to protect their home. As a result, they had transcended the fear of death.

  While preparing for their last stand, one soldier asked, “How long can we keep this up, sir? They’ve pushed us so far back, and we’ve taken a lot of casualties.”

  “We keep fighting until the fleet knocks out the dreadnaught and deactivates these buckets of bolts. With any luck, our Coalition allies got my message and are helping us up there,” Devan replied.

  Suddenly, a bright light filled the sky. Devan and his forces looked up and saw the shape of the Shogunate dreadnaught exploding. In moments, sparks flew from the heads of the Feldorbots and spider tanks, and they collapsed where they stood. After spending so much time fighting, it took a while for the city’s defenders to accept what had just happened.

  Taking a knee and using his spear as a crutch, Devan gasped, “They’ve done it! The battle’s over! We’ve won!”

  After hearing those words, all the surviving soldiers held their weapons over their heads and cheered in triumph. A great darkness had been lifted from the city, and the light of the sun seemed brighter than before.

  ______

  Governor Spatha and his aides waited on the roof of their building, looking up in the sky for their shuttle to arrive. Below them, Spatha noticed that the battle had ended with a victory for Spica Prime. The sight made his soul freeze.

  “It seems we have lost our gambit, gentlemen. The Shogunate lost, our security has been overwhelmed, and Devan’s rabble are almost upon us. Our only hope is if the Shogunate’s shuttle will get us out of here,” Spatha mused.

  “And if they don’t, what then, Governor?” asked the attorney general.

  “Then we will be captured before being executed for treason. Those are our only choices at this point.”

  “Governor! Look!” cried the press secretary.

  Up in the sky, a ship that resembled a manta ray glided toward the building. Spatha and his aides cheered in relief as their rescue arrived at last. All of a sudden, a projectile was fired at the shuttle’s cockpit, detonating it. With the cockpit destroyed, the shuttle crashed into the building, causing it to tremble. Despair consumed Spatha and his cronies as their only escape went up in flames.

  Turning to the source of the projectile, Spatha and his aides saw Devan’s commandos standing in front of them. One of the soldiers was holding up a smoking rocket launcher. They looked at the governor with utter disdain.

  “Governor Spatha, you and your aides are under arrest for high treason!” the lead soldier announced.

  Spatha ground his teeth with frustrated anger before falling to his knees in defeat.

  CHAPTER 22

  The sound of metal clashing with metal filled the Emden’s corridors as Bralu and Manus fought to the death. Bralu fought the mutilated Manus as fiercely as he could, but his efforts were in vain. Empowered by the pain of his injuries and Bralu’s fear, Manus was more like a force of nature than a man. Every attempt Bralu made to either defend himself or attack Manus was completely overwhelmed by the Vice Shogun’s relentless onslaught.

  Throughout the duel, Bralu sustained multiple cuts along his arms and legs, only able to protect his head and torso. His limbs slowly became heavy and cold from blood loss and he nearly tripped several times on puddles of his own gore. The muscles in his arms and shoulders burned with agony and fatigue as he continued to fend off the merciless Vice Shogun.

  Whenever Manus missed Bralu, his Kiru would slice through the surrounding walls, floor, and ceiling, setting them ablaze. As the corridor burned, molten ore oozed out of the areas that were cut like magma. For Bralu, the whole exchange became a hellish nightmare come to life.

  Glaring at the gaping hole where Manus’s face used to be, Bralu shouted, “Why won’t you die?”

  Unable to answer, Manus intensified his assault, forcing Bralu back down the flaming hall.

  This is bad! I can’t keep this up for much longer! I can barely keep pumping my muscles with psychic energy, and my limbs feel like they’re made of jelly! If I don’t find a way out of this, he is going to kill me! Bralu thought as he frantically searched for an escape from his death match.

  Suddenly, the entire dreadnaught shook violently, causing sparks and electricity to explode out of the framework of the ship’s interior. Bralu and Manus were both thrown into the air before landing on the floor. The wind was knocked out of their lungs, and their joints were racked with new pulses of pain.

  As he struggled to his feet, Bralu muttered, “That was no laser blast or bombing run. Something hit us!”

  Then a feminine voice announced, “Critical systems failure! The ship will detonate in ten minutes! All hands abandon ship!”

  Cursing under his breath, Bralu forced himself to stand. When he looked at Manus, the Vice Shogun was still trying to get up. Seizing on the opening, Bralu lunged at Manus in an attempt to finish him off. However, Manus countered by slashing across Bralu’s face, leaving a diagonal cut from the right side of his jaw to the left side of his brow. Bralu cried out in surprise and discomfort as blood leaked into his eyes. After he wiped his eyes, Bralu saw that Manus was pointing his sword with the blade downward.

  Still cleaning
blood from his lacerated face, Bralu demanded, “What are you waiting for?”

  Through his clairvoyance, Bralu sensed a powerful pulse of telekinetic energy ripple from Manus. As the wave rolled toward him, sections of the walls, floor, and ceiling were torn off and thrown at Bralu with blinding speed. It was like being in a video in fast forward mode, and he was repeatedly struck by Manus’s barrage. Bones broke and more blood sprayed in the air as Bralu was mercilessly pummeled.

  Reflexively, Bralu enveloped himself in a psionic barrier that shielded him from the rest of Manus’s volley. When the bombardment was over, he dropped his barrier and fell to his knees in exhaustion. The adrenaline in his veins was the only thing that blocked the agony of his broken bones. Bralu’s Kiru was knocked out of his hands before being nailed to the wall behind him.

  Breathing heavily, Bralu raised his head in time to watch Manus loom over him with his Kiru held in front of him with a two-handed grip. It was clear that Manus intended to execute Bralu on the spot. Manus lifted his sword in preparation to strike, and the world seemed to freeze around Bralu.

  Images of his friends and family flashed through Bralu’s mind as he gazed at his executioner. Was this truly where Bralu’s story ended? Would he never escape the dreadnaught alive? His final vision came in the form of Amber, who was screaming while reaching out to him with tears in her eyes.

  “No! I can’t die here! It can’t be!” Bralu shouted as he raised his hand in front of him.

  Suddenly, beams of black-red energy fired from Bralu’s palms toward Manus. The release of power was both invigorating and taxing at the same time. When the beams struck Manus, they seared off both of his arms at the shoulders, leaving cauterized stubs in their place. Manus’s maimed arms and Kiru dropped to the floor and clattered.

  “Ha! Got you, bastard! Trying killing me without hands!” Bralu taunted at his triumph.

  Bralu instantly felt an unnatural feeling consume his hands. He looked at them and saw his palms were burned and fingers were trembling. Muscles and tendons screamed in agony whenever Bralu tried to form fists.