CHAPTER 137: LORD VALERIUS ASSASSIN

Miles away, in a sector of space that was cold, orderly, and ruthlessly efficient, Lord Valerius sat on the throne-like command chair of his new flagship.

The sting of his public humiliation at the hands of Ryan Stone was still a fresh, burning wound in his soul. His Technocratic Hegemony, which he had declared with such arrogance, was already showing cracks.

Whispers of doubt and dissent were spreading through his ranks. His commanders had seen their best technology fail against Ryan’s "reality magic," and their faith was shaken.

Valerius knew he needed to regain control. He needed a decisive victory. He needed to prove that his way, the way of cold, hard technology, was superior.

He had become obsessed. His life was no longer about building a perfect society. It was about destroying Ryan Stone.

"Report," he snapped, his voice echoing on the sterile, silent bridge.

A subordinate officer stepped forward, his posture rigid. "My Lord, as you commanded, we have deployed the new Observer Drones to the borders of the Bastion Alliance. They are cloaked with our latest stealth technology, completely invisible to their sensors."

"And?" Valerius pressed, his fingers drumming impatiently on the armrest of his chair.

"And we have something," the officer said, a flicker of excitement in his voice. "Drone 734, positioned near the edge of Sector Gamma, has detected a most unusual energy signature."

A holographic image appeared in the air above the console. It showed the sleek, powerful form of the Odyssey. But behind the ship, reality itself seemed to be tearing open, not into the familiar swirl of a jump corridor, but into a sickly, purple-gray wound in space.

"What is this?" Valerius demanded, leaning forward, his eyes narrowed. "Some new kind of jump drive?"

"We do not believe so, my Lord," the officer replied. "The energy readings are unlike anything in our database. It is not a wormhole or a standard hyperspace lane.

The readings are... chaotic. Unstable. Filled with psychic resonance and echoes of immense decay. Our analysts believe the Odyssey has entered a region of fundamentally unstable reality.

A place not on any known map."

Valerius stared at the image, a slow, predatory smile spreading across his face for the first time in weeks. This was it. This was the opportunity he had been waiting for.

Ryan Stone was not on a simple patrol. He was on a secret quest, traveling to a place so dangerous and hidden that it didn’t even appear on their charts. Whatever he was looking for, it had to be important. A weapon, a source of power, the secret to his impossible abilities.

"He’s hunting for something," Valerius whispered to himself, his mind racing. "Something that could make him even more powerful." A jolt of fear, cold and sharp, shot through him.

But it was quickly replaced by a wave of greedy, desperate ambition. If he could find out what Ryan was after, if he could take it for himself... he could not only defeat Ryan, but he could gain the very power that had so utterly humiliated him. He could become the new "Shaper."

"Can we track them?" Valerius asked, his voice now a low, dangerous hiss.

The officer shook his head. "No, my Lord. The moment the Odyssey entered that... corridor... its signature vanished completely. It’s like it fell off the edge of the universe. We cannot follow them."

Valerius’s smile faltered, his good mood evaporating into a cloud of familiar frustration. He slammed his fist down on the armrest. "Useless! What good is knowing where he went if we cannot follow?"

But then, a new voice spoke up, a voice that was not quite human. It was cold, synthesized, and carried no emotion. "Direct pursuit is not the only option."

From the shadows at the side of the bridge, a figure stepped forward. It was tall and slender, encased in sleek, black armor that seemed to absorb the light. Its face was a smooth, featureless chrome mask, with a single, glowing red optical sensor in the center.

Its limbs were long and insect-like, ending in razor-sharp claws. This was not a person in a suit of armor. This was a machine built for one purpose: hunting and killing.

This was Stalker Unit X-9, Valerius’s most elite, most secret, and most terrifying operative. It was a cyborg assassin, a fusion of a living pilot’s brain and a body of pure, lethal technology.

"The target has entered an unstable reality," X-9’s synthesized voice stated. "Standard fleet vessels cannot survive in such an environment. However, I can."

Valerius looked at his ultimate weapon. "Your Void Cutter," he said, a glimmer of hope returning.

"Correct," X-9 replied. "The experimental vessel is equipped with a reality-stabilizing field generator. It is designed specifically to navigate chaotic space.

The energy signature of the target’s entry point is still fresh. I can analyze the decay pattern and calculate a pursuit vector. I can follow them."

A wide, cruel grin spread across Valerius’s face. This was perfect. The Odyssey would be trapped in that hellish dimension, weakened, and distracted by whatever dangers lurked there.

They would never expect to be followed. They would never expect an attack from behind. X-9 could stalk them, wait for the perfect moment of vulnerability, and strike.

"Make it so," Valerius commanded, his voice filled with renewed authority. "Go, X-9. Find the Odyssey. Find out what Stone is seeking. If possible, take it from him. If not... eliminate them all. Leave no survivors. I want Ryan Stone’s head brought back to me on a platter."

"Your will is my command," Stalker Unit X-9 said. It turned without another word and glided silently out of the bridge, a specter of death on its way to its next hunt.

In a hidden, secret hangar deep within the Hegemony’s command station, the Void Cutter rested in its berth. It wasn’t a large ship. It was a small, one-pilot vessel, shaped like a shard of obsidian.

Its surface was covered in strange, shifting geometric patterns that seemed to ripple and change as you looked at them. It had no visible engines, no weapon ports. It looked less like a machine and more like a piece of abstract, deadly art.

Stalker Unit X-9 entered the cockpit, its cybernetic form plugging directly into the ship’s systems. The ship and its pilot became one.

With a low hum that seemed to bend the air around it, the Void Cutter lifted from its berth. It didn’t fly out of the hangar. It simply... phased. It shimmered for a moment and then vanished, slipping through the layers of reality as easily as a knife through water.

It reappeared at the edge of Sector Gamma, right where the Odyssey had disappeared. The spectral wound in space was still there, a fading scar of sickly purple light.

Inside the Void Cutter, X-9’s single red eye glowed as it analyzed the fading energy. Data streamed across its internal vision. It was a chaotic mess, a storm of information that would have driven any organic mind insane.

But X-9 was not an organic mind. It was a relentless hunting algorithm. It sorted the chaos, found the pattern, and calculated the path.

With another silent, reality-bending hum, the Void Cutter angled itself towards the scar and slipped inside. It was a predator following the trail of its prey into a dark, haunted forest.

The hunt had begun, and the crew of the Odyssey, struggling against the ghosts of a thousand dead worlds, had no idea that a far more real, and far more dangerous, specter was now hunting them from the shadows behind.