Page 65 of Asmodel

The weight of what they planned lay heavy on Asmodel. If it was true Prisma-Solara was no longer a force of destruction, she’d be a formidable ally. Not only here on CeluriaVO, but against her people invading this dimension.

With a quick command for the four of them to join hands, he teleported them back to the city square of Panterion Prime.

Izzy stood at the edge of the devastated city center of Panterion Prime. Her chin trembled at the sight of the destruction around her. The once-bustling metropolis now lay in ruins, buildings reduced to crumbling structures, their sleek metallic facades twisted and broken. The air was thick with the acrid scent of smoke and the faint, metallic tang of blood.

Everywhere, the sounds of the city’s slow collapse echoed—the groan of strained metal, the crack of shattering glass, and the distant rumble of debris falling.

Beside her, Asmodel surveyed the wreckage, his expression closed and guarded. Even with the PsyShields on, it was easy to feel his psychic touch as a steady pulse in the back of her mind. It was a comforting reminder of their connection.

Raxx, with his ever-present smirk, leaned against a toppled hover-bike, his eyes darting around as he took in the scene.

Prisma-Solara, her body of shimmering yellow crystals, stood close.

It was easy for Izzy to see the faint tremor coming off her, as if the destruction affected the Krystalii as much as it did her. “Remember, we're here to help them,” Izzy quietly said to the Krystalii. “But don’t worry. If anything happens, Asmodel will teleport us out.” She glanced at the handsome profile of the man next to her. He took her hand with a brief nod.

“Look, Jaltaar is heading this way.” Izzy pointed to a scikvak walking toward them with Talira at his side.

Both had snarls curling their snouts, their ears flattened sideways. Following close behind was a group of growling guards brandishing various weapons, all pointed at Izzy and her companions.

Raxx stood straight with his arms crossed. His smirk turned into a blank expression.

Jaltaar stopped in front of them, his nostrils flaring, his emerald eyes narrowed. His fur, normally sleek and his orange stripes vibrant, was now marred with soot and grime. “You have a lot of nerve bringing her back here.” He snarled, exposing his fangs. “She killed my father and over a thousand of our people!” He pointed an exposed claw in Prisma-Solara’s direction. “I thought you said you’d take care of it.”

Talira, standing in a battle-hardened stance, exuded a fierce strength. Her midnight-blue eyes, sharp and clear, held a mixture of anger and sorrow.

“We have.” Asmodel’s stance was open, his arms hanging at his side. “Prisma-Solara had an adverse reaction to CeluriaVO soil that made her uncontrollable. In addition to her cleansing herself in the waterfall, she has agreed to wear PsyShields to confine most of her psychic power.”

Talira cocked her head, her thin black lips around her snout rippled with a snarl. “What is a PsyShield?”

“They’re disks that filter psychic abilities,” Raxx supplied. “I got them from a Crichian.”

Jaltaar’s whiskered eyebrows rose. “I find it hard to believe a Crichian gave those to you willingly. They’re notoriously stingy with their technology.”

Raxx’s only answer was a grin.

“Prisma-Solara is in complete control of herself, aren’t you?” Izzy made sure her words were soft but clear. “She was a psychic prisoner held hostage by her leader. With all ties to her people cut, she has the freedom to make her own choices. Now she only wants to help with the rebuilding and caring for the injured.”

Jaltaar's eyes narrowed, his gaze shifting to Prisma-Solara. “Is this so?” he asked in a bitter tone. “Are you claiming you created the devastation on CeluriaVO because someone forced you to do so?” He snorted.

“Yeah.” Raxx chuckled under his breath. “The devil made her do it.”

Izzy pressed her lips together. Darn man came up with the funniest things at the worst time.

Prisma-Solara stepped forward, her voice a melodic hum. “Yes, it’s true. I lost control when I tried to replenish myself in your soil. When I did that, it brought out unfamiliar emotions within me. They were so strong I couldn’t control my reaction to it.” She looked over her shoulder at Izzy, Asmodel, and Raxx behind her. “Without their intervention, I would have destroyed your planet.” She faced him again with her hands behind her back. “I am deeply sorry for the ruination I caused. I wish to atone for my actions and help your people heal any way I can.”

Talira crossed her arms, her expression hard. “Why should we trust you? Your actions caused the death of many and destroyed my home. How do we know this isn't a trick? It sounds like there’s nothing to stop you from taking the PsyShields off.”

Raxx snorted, leaning on a hover-bike lying in two pieces. “Chill, warrior princess. Prisma-Solara didn’t even have to put those shields on. It’s true she can take them off whenever she wants, but she hasn’t.” He shrugged. “And I don’t think she will. Besides, we wouldn't be risking our necks if we didn't believe her.”

“And why don’t you want to take them off?” Talira insisted, ignoring Raxx’s statement.

Prisma-Solara fixed a stare at Talira. “I won’t risk the chance of Lord Baelon gaining control of me again. With these on, I am my own person. If I remove them, I’ll once again be under his control. I’d rather live here with you and have limited psionic abilities than go back to being a mindless slave to that cruel dictator.”

Asmodel nodded, his eyes meeting Jaltaar's. “We understand your hesitation, but think of this. Prisma-Solara's powers can be a great asset in rebuilding Panterion Prime faster and better with her than without her.”

Izzy stepped closer to Jaltaar, keeping her gaze earnest. “Just as you resisted the unfair practices of your leader, she can finally do the same to hers.”

“If I may interject,” JR13 piped up from his place on Asmodel’s shoulder. “Echo and I have a way to program your Lumiview Prism to contain a distinctive sound that renders her immobile, whether she has the shields on or not. Would that not be acceptable?”

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