Page 16 of Rescued By the Alien Hit Man

“Watch your step,” I advised, as Mia’s foot found a weak floorboard, its groan piercing the quiet like a scream. She nodded, her eyes scanning the darkness as she sidestepped the hazard.

“Any idea what they researched here?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Doesn’t matter now,” I said, though curiosity flared briefly within me. What secrets did these crumbling walls hide?

A sudden noise—a skittering in the darkness—halted us. We froze, two statues once again, listening for the threat that might lurk around any corner. My hand instinctively went to the weapon at my side, comforted by the familiar weight.

“Probably just some creature,” Mia ventured, her tone betraying a hint of fear despite her scientific mind.

“Perhaps,” I said, though I trusted nothing on this forsaken moon. My eyes adjusted to the dimness, seeking the source of the sound, ready to defend, to kill if necessary.

“Let’s find somewhere defensible,” I said, steering us toward what looked like a control center, its door hanging precariously off its hinges.

We entered, and I scanned the room, noting exits and potential threats. The dust lay thick, undisturbed, save for the footprints we now added to the floor’s grim canvas.

“Here.” I gestured to a corner with a clear view of the entrance. “We’ll stay here until dawn.”

Mia nodded, setting down her computer and samples carefully, as if they were the most precious cargo. And to her, they were—a lifeline to a world beyond this chaos.

“Thank you,” she said, her eyes meeting mine. In them, I saw gratitude, trust, and something else—a spark that mirrored my own desires.

“Always,” I assured her. For Mia, I would withstand any temptation, confront any foe, defy my very creators. Because she was worth it—worth everything.

And as the distant howls of nocturnal predators pierced the stillness, I knew our respite would be brief. Danger was ever-present on Dufair, and the Sionagog Syndicate’s shadow loomed large over us both. But for now, amid the flickering light and the promise of safety, I allowed myself one simple truth: I would protect Mia Clarke with my life.

Silence became a deceptive blanket, muffling the slow decay around us. Mia’s breaths were even; her presence, a warm contrast to the cold sterility of our hideout. I watched over her, tuned to the slightest deviation in the jungle’s nocturnal symphony.

Abruptly, the stillness cracked like brittle bone.

“Stay behind me,” I said without turning, my senses flaring wide open as a figure emerged from the shadows. Varek Sorn filled the doorway, the Sionagog Syndicate’s insignia glinting on his chest. His lithe frame coiled with tension, his gaze sharp and predatory.

“Congratulations, Cikarius,” he said, his voice smooth as the silencer on a plasma rifle. “You’ve played the protector quite convincingly.”

I stepped forward, placing myself between Mia and the operative. “She has nothing you want.”

“Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong.” A cruel smile played across Varek’s thin lips. “The Sionagog Syndicate appreciates your… initiative. Complete your mission, prove your loyalty, and all is forgiven.”

His words hung in the air, laced with an unspoken threat that chilled my blood. My fists clenched at my sides. Loyalty. That concept had become a jagged shard in my mind ever since Mia entered my life.

To rejoin the Syndicate… the idea swirled inside me like a toxic mist. No one walked away from the Syndicate and lived. The chase would never end; they would hunt me to the edge of the universe if necessary. Worse still, they could use Mia against me—a pawn in their merciless game. The mere thought tightened my chest, a rare sensation of dread wrapping around my heart.

I couldn’t betray myself, not now. Not for the false promise of safety within the ranks of those who saw me as nothing more than a weapon. The jungle’s humidity seeped into the facility, the air thick against my skin. I could almost taste the emerald leaves and the intoxicating flowers from the outside, a cruel reminder of the freedom just out of reach.

Varek watched me, his predatory eyes gleaming in anticipation. He smelled victory, but what he didn’t know was that I smelled something too—the subtle perfume of Mia’s fear mingling with the metallic tang of my resolve.

“Weigh your options carefully, Cikarius. You know what happens to those who cross us,” he said, his voice dripping with dark honey.

I turned my head enough to glimpse Mia behind me. Her breaths shallow whispers in the heavy silence that fell over the facility.

I shifted, feeling the ground’s grit against my boots, each granule a witness to this dance of death and deceit. Behind me,Mia’s breath caught—a silent gasp that brushed my senses like the whisper of silk against skin. Her presence was a heat at my back, a beacon of life amidst the desolation. She tensed, her fear a palpable force that seemed to draw the darkness tighter around us.

“Your move, Cikarius,” Varek coaxed, his voice soft as the brush of fur against flesh.

My heart hammered in my chest, a drumbeat calling me to war—a war within my very soul. I could feel the pulse of Dufair’s luminescent jungle in my veins, its wildness a mirror to my own. The Sionagog Syndicate was a shackle I had shattered, but now its links threatened to ensnare me once more.

“Time is not your ally,” Varek said, mistaking my silence for hesitation.

The faint glow of bioluminescent mold on the door cast eerie shadows on his face, turning his confident smirk into a ghoulish grin. He believed he held all the cards, that my next move was already his to claim.

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