Chapter 253: A Mole?

Chapter 253: A Mole?Aurelius had always been caught between admiration and disdain.

The public marveled at his good looks, his fame blooming among the Alliance’s citizens. But his mother’s origins cast a shadow that he couldn’t shake, leaving him stuck in an awkward, isolated corner.

Desperate to jump from the sinking ship of the royal family’s reputation, he’d clung to a new one—a disastrous alliance with the Calvin family.

Caspian snickered, "Yeah, just rotten luck."

That afternoon, Lyra met the "unlucky" man himself.

Aurelius, once proud and composed, now looked intense and dark. He wore a black tank top, baring skin that had missed the sun for years, stretched thin over muscles scarred by lashes and burns—a canvas of pain and survival.

One brutal scar carved its way down his forehead, across his left eye, and slashed through his jaw, adding a fierce edge to a face that had once been adored.

Caspian’s words hadn’t been an overstatement—Aurelius truly looked like someone fresh out of captivity.

Lyra could feel the barely contained rage and bitterness roiling within him, his mind fragile and raw.

"Miss Shedd," he greeted her, voice thick with a rough, mocking edge, his words rasping as if his throat were scraped raw. "It’s been a while."

Lyra gave a brief nod. "Didn’t think I’d run into you here."

"Oh, well, Admiral Whyte took pity on me," he replied, sarcasm dripping from his words. "Let me sign on with Legion Glory."

There wasn’t a trace of thankfulness in his expression. Lyra thought wryly to herself, ’Frederick never wasted talent, no matter how scarred.’

Then, a shadow passed over Aurelius’s face, and his eyes turned a frosty blue, simmering with barely restrained hate.

Lyra followed his gaze and sighed. Here came another familiar face she’d rather avoid: Robin.

Once one of the Calvin family’s most trusted criminals, Robin had flipped sides when the scandal broke, ultimately charming his way into the admiral’s favor and a cushy promotion to Ensign.

Before the disaster had hit, Aurelius had approached Robin, hoping to use him as a bridge into the Calvin family’s inner circle.

Robin, fully aware of the family’s darkness, hadn’t warned him—instead, he’d encouraged Aurelius’ interest.

When everything fell apart, Robin escaped unscathed, while Aurelius was left to rot, enduring torture and imprisonment by the royal family for over two years. His resentment was well earned.

"Doctor Shedd," Robin called out, using her formal title to remind her he knew about her current status.

Aurelius let out a bitter, humorless laugh. "Isn’t it funny?" he said, his voice sharp. "Some people get rewarded for their betrayal, while others end up... well, like this." He was like a wounded animal, lashing out at anyone who got too close.

Lyra raised an eyebrow. "I’ve got things to do," she replied curtly, turning away, uninterested in their toxic dynamic.

Quietly, as if unseen hands turned the wheels, the fates of each of them nudged them forward on paths they couldn’t escape.

The official start of the Wyrmtrace colony program had kicked off a surge in infrastructure, transforming the once-desolate landscape. Everyone who was meant to be here had arrived.

Though Lyra had technically joined the medical corps two years prior, she’d never formally reported in, leaving her in a strange limbo where the corps didn’t recognize her presence—something that even Cohen couldn’t override.

Meanwhile, her ambitious expansion on Wyrmtrace was drawing attention. Each day, new eyes lingered near the construction sites, curiosity growing.

One afternoon, Shane, now Lyra’s sharp and observant secretary, checked in. "We caught another sneaky one snooping around last night."

"Sent by someone," he continued, unfazed as he settled into his new role, "to scope out our plans and see if they could compete with us."

Lyra gave a short nod. This was almost routine. "Where’d they catch him?"

"Near the spaceport construction site. First thing the government’s put up in New Central City."

Shane, well aware that Lyra wasn’t one for small talk, kept his report rolling. "The guy says he works for someone with a grudge against you—Mendez, from Planet Nagano."

Lyra’s casual stride halted abruptly. "The Mendez family?" She frowned, clearly connecting dots in her mind. "Our cargo ship docked last night, didn’t it?"

"Yeah, it did," Shane confirmed, looking a little puzzled. "Why? Do you think it’s related?"

Lyra’s expression grew thoughtful. "Maybe...or maybe I’m overthinking it."

She continued forward a few steps before stopping to whisper a set of instructions to Shane.

Shane nodded sharply and strode off to interrogate the prisoner himself.

In the dim warehouse, a middle-aged man wearing a blue jumpsuit was putting on a loud show, thrashing around and shouting, "I told you everything I know! Let me go! This is illegal detention, and I know my rights!"

He directed his rant toward a nearby security camera, face twisted in a sneer. "I know you’re watching, you psychos! I’ll make a mess of this place if you don’t let me out!"

Just then, Shane entered, rolling his eyes. ’You’re the psycho here, pal,’

he thought.

The man lunged for the door, but Shane was ready. He snapped a superpower restraint around the man’s wrists—a gel cuff that hardened instantly, locking his arms in place.

"Settle down!" Shane commanded, maintaining a calm exterior but exuding a dangerous energy. With a smirk, he pressed his boot to the man’s shoulder, pinning him down. "Now, who exactly sent you?"

"Mendez!" the man sputtered, mouth half-swollen from Shane’s rough handling. "They’ve hated Lyra for years, paid me to do a little snooping around!"

Shane gave him a quick, sharp kick that sent him sprawling. "Wrong answer. We already called Mendez personally, and they’ve never heard of you."

The man’s face fell, his panic flashing in his eyes for a split second. Shane caught it instantly—Lyra’s gut feeling about a liar hadn’t been wrong. Still, he kept his face locked in a cold glare.

"You think you can fool ME?" he growled, grabbing the man by the collar. "You know who I was before this job? I used to be a space pirate, and I’m about two seconds from proving it."

The man blanched, sweat dripping down his face. "Okay, okay!" he stammered, eyes darting between Shane’s bulging arms and his fierce expression. "I—I don’t know who they really were! Some stranger handed me a stack of cash to sketch out the spaceport layout!"

’So they’re after the spaceport layout,’ Shane noted, realizing this was bigger than a simple act of snooping.

Without wasting a second, he called Lyra.

Lyra had barely left the area, but upon hearing his report, she ordered the driver to turn around and made her way straight to the warehouse.

The moment the prisoner caught sight of her, he recoiled, a shudder of fear running through him.

This was no casual job for him—he was just a small-time hustler used to petty cons, swiping materials and selling them under the table. This time, though, he’d unwittingly landed himself in serious trouble.

"What’s your name?" Lyra asked, her tone slicing through any attempt at bluffing.

"R-Ramar Kahan," he stammered, realizing that he couldn’t talk his way out of this one.

"When’s the handoff?" Lyra’s question came sharp and direct.

"T-tomorrow...3 a.m.," he answered, the fear thickening his voice.

Lyra turned to Shane with a determined nod. "Make him a fake layout map. Tomorrow, you’ll go along with him for the drop."

Her eyes sparkled with cold calculation. She was going to find out exactly who had dared to mess with her operation—and make sure they knew they’d made a grave mistake.