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“No,” Zar’Ryn admitted. “But it is not natural.”

“You think?” she said, her sarcasm masking the fear that radiated through the bond. “It’s like… I can feel you. Your emotions, your… everything.”

“As I can feel yours,” he replied, his tone measured. “It is distracting.”

Elara snorted softly, though her nervousness was palpable. “Well, sorry for being distracting.”

He glanced at her, his expression unreadable. “You should not apologize for what you cannot control. Focus on what you can.”

Her gaze lingered on him for a moment before she nodded. “Right. Focus.”

They reached another chamber, larger and colder, its walls slick with condensation that dripped steadily onto the floor. The air carried a foul stench, amix of decay and the sharp tang of alien substances.

Rows of cells lined the walls, their metal bars corroded and stained with rust. Faint moans echoed through the space, accompanied by the rattle of chains and the occasional scrape of something moving in the darkness. Adim, blinking light struggled to illuminate the room, casting eerie shadows that seemed to shift with every step they took. The low moans of captives echoed through the space, their voices weak and broken. Asurge of anger shot through the bond, but he couldn’t tell if it was his or Elara’s.

“The others,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Zar’Ryn nodded, his jaw tightening. “Stay close. And stay quiet.”

The cell doors were secured by glowing locks similar to the ones that had bound Elara. Zar’Ryn approached the first cell, his hands moving over the control pad. The mechanism clicked and hissed, the door sliding open to reveal a huddled figure inside. Awoman, her body battered and frail, looked up with wide, frightenedeyes.

“You are safe now,” Zar’Ryn said, his tone low but firm. He helped her to her feet, his touch gentle despite the urgency of their situation.

Elara stepped closer, her presence steadying the woman. “We’re getting you out of here,” she said softly. “Just hold on a little longer.”

The bond hummed with Elara’s determination, asharp contrast to the fear she’d felt earlier. Zar’Ryn moved to the next cell, repeating the process as Elara comforted the newly freed captives. Together, they worked quickly but efficiently, their shared purpose uniting them in a way neither could fully comprehend.

As the last cell door slid open, Zar’Ryn sensed movement behind him. He spun, his blade already in hand, as a new group of Marauders entered the chamber. Their guttural growls echoed off the walls, their weapons glinting ominously in the dim light.

“Get them out,” he ordered, his voice calm but commanding. He stepped forward, placing himself between the captives and the advancing Marauders. The bond thrummed with Elara’s fear, but also her resolve.

“You can’t take all of the Marauders on alone,” she said, her voice shaking but resolute.

“I do not have to,” he replied, his gaze steady. “Just stay well behind me.”

Elara hesitated, her emotions a storm of conflict. Finally, she nodded, pressing the captives well away from the impending battle. Zar’Ryn spared a brief glance over his shoulder, the weight of her emotions lingering as he faced the Marauders.

Elara’s presence remained vivid in his mind, even as the Marauders advanced. He found his grip tightening involuntarily on the hilt of his sword, his usual precision fraying at the edges. Her fear churned within him, disorienting and unrelenting, forcing him to fight against the dual weight of his enemies and the bond’s intrusive force.

He took a calculated step back, forcing a slow, deliberate breath.Focus. He centered himself, locking onto the immediate threat, using the faint glimmer of her tenacity as a lifeline. It was chaotic, but he knew he couldn’t afford to falter. All the prisoners’ survival depended on his ability to adapt.

He found himself strangely distracted by the lingering warmth of her emotions—fear, yes, but also a trust she hadn’t yet realized she was giving him. It both grounded and unnerved him. He couldn’t afford to let it weaken his concentration.

The Marauders attacked as one, their guttural growls filling the chamber. Zar’Ryn moved with precision, his blade cutting through their crude weapons and defenses. He felt their anger and pain as if they were echoes of his own, but the bond pushed him forward, an unrelenting pulse of purpose.

In the midst of the chaos, asingle thought rang clear:Elara. He had to ensure her safety above all else. For reasons he couldn’t yet name, the idea of her being harmed filled him with a fury he hadn’t felt in centuries.

And then, it happened. From the shadows beyond the Marauders, acold, mechanical voice echoed through the chamber, chilling Zar’Ryn to thecore.

“You should not have come here, Intergalactic Warrior,” it said. “Your bond with the human will be your undoing.”

The room fell silent, save for the labored breathing of the captives. Zar’Ryn’s grip tightened on his blade as a new wave of unease surged through him. Whoever this was, it wasn’t just another Marauder—it was something far worse.

“Elara,” he called sharply, his voice low but urgent. “Head to the far corridor on the left. You will find an auxiliary tunnel. Hide there with the other women until I come for you.”

“But—”

This time he didn’t bother to keep his voice down. “Elara! Run. Now.”

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