The blast threw Ren backward.
He hit the ground hard, the air leaving his lungs in a rush. For a moment everything was noise and light and chaos. Then his ears started ringing and he could hear again.
Screaming. Soldiers shouting. The crackle of energy weapons.
He pushed himself up, ignoring the pain in his shoulder. His mother lay nearby, still unconscious. Still breathing. Thank God.
"Aiko!"
No answer. Just more explosions. More chaos.
Ren's power surged. The three fragments blazed inside him, and suddenly he could see everything. Every soldier. Every weapon. Every path through the destruction.
The figure in black was still standing. He'd thrown up some kind of shield, protecting himself from the blast. His soldiers weren't so lucky. Half were down. The rest were scattered, confused, easy targets.
But Ren didn't care about them.
He ran toward his mother.
Hands grabbed him. A soldier, blood streaming down his face, trying to pull Ren down. Ren didn't even think. His fist connected with the soldier's helmet, and the man flew backward like he'd been hit by a ship.
Another soldier. Ren dodged, spun, struck. The man crumpled.
He reached Sara and knelt beside her. Her pulse was weak but steady. The wound on her head was bleeding badly. She needed help. Now.
"Ren!"
Aiko's voice. He looked up. She was running toward him through the smoke, one arm hanging awkwardly, her face streaked with soot and blood.
"We need to go," she gasped. "Now. More soldiers coming. Lots more."
"The fragment—"
"Forget the fragment! Your mom's dying!"
Ren looked at the red light. So close. So close.
Then he looked at his mother's pale face.
He made his choice.
"Help me get her to the shuttle."
They ran.
Aiko on one side, Ren on the other, carrying Sara between them. Her feet dragged on the ground. Her head lolled. But she was breathing. Still breathing.
Behind them, the warehouse district erupted into chaos. More explosions. More shouting. Soldiers converging from every direction.
The shuttle was still on the roof. Still intact. Somehow.
They reached it. Ren laid his mother gently inside while Aiko jumped into the pilot's seat.
"Can you fly?" Ren asked.
"Learned when I was eight." Her hands moved over the controls. "Hold on."
The shuttle lifted off just as soldiers reached the roof. Energy bolts bounced off the hull. One hit the engine. Warning lights flashed.
"We're hit!" Aiko shouted.
"Can we make it?"
"We're about to find out."
The shuttle lurched into the sky, smoke trailing from one engine. Below, the city shrank. The atmosphere thinned. Space opened above them.
And then, just as they cleared the planet's gravity well, the second engine failed.
They drifted.
The shuttle's systems were failing one by one. Life support was barely holding. Sara was still unconscious, her breathing shallower now.
Ren sat beside her, holding her hand, willing her to wake up.
"Starfire, this is shuttle. Do you copy? Starfire, please respond."
Aiko's voice was calm, but Ren could hear the fear underneath.
Static. More static. Then:
"Shuttle, this is Starfire. Reading you weak. What's your status?"
The voice was the ship's computer. Automated. Not helpful.
"We need a tow," Aiko said. "Engines are dead. Life support failing. Two injured, one critical."
A long pause. Then:
"Calculating intercept course. ETA twenty-three minutes."
Twenty-three minutes. Sara might not have twenty-three minutes.
"Hold on, Mom," Ren whispered. "Just hold on."
The Starfire found them with eight minutes to spare.
Ren carried Sara through the docking tube himself, refusing to let anyone else touch her. He laid her on her bunk and stood there, helpless, while Aiko worked.
"I'm not a doctor," Aiko said, her hands steady as she cleaned the wound. "But I've patched up a lot of people. She's lost blood. Might have a concussion. But she's tough. Tougher than she looks."
"How do you know?"
Aiko paused. Looked at him. "Because she raised you. That takes toughness."
Ren sat down heavily. His body was shaking. His power was fluctuating, the fragments surging and receding in waves.
"You saved us," he said quietly. "You came back."
"I told you I would." Aiko returned to her work. "If things went really bad, I'd be there."
"But your arm—"
"Dislocated. Not broken. I've had worse." She smiled grimly. "Much worse."
Ren looked at her. At the girl who never talked about her past. At the girl who'd just blown up half a warehouse district to save them.
"The man in black. You knew him."
Aiko's hands stilled for just a moment. Then she kept working.
"His name is Varn. He runs black ops for the Kryll Empire. Specializes in... acquisitions. People, mostly. People with skills. People who can be useful." Her voice was flat. Controlled. "My mother worked at a research station. She developed something. Some kind of energy weapon. Varn wanted it. She refused to sell."
"The accident."
"Wasn't an accident." Aiko's eyes stayed on Sara's wound. "He made it look like one. Covered it up. Walked away clean. I was twelve. I had no proof. No power. No nothing." She finally looked at Ren. "I've been waiting eight years for a chance to make him pay."
Ren stared at her. Eight years. She'd been carrying that for eight years.
"Did you kill him?"
"I don't know. Maybe. The explosion was big enough." She shook her head. "But if I didn't, I will. Eventually."
Sara moaned softly. Her eyes fluttered.
"Mom?"
She blinked. Looked at him. Smiled weakly.
"Ren." Her voice was a whisper. "Did we get it?"
"No, Mom. We had to leave it."
"Good." She closed her eyes again. "Good. More important things than fragments."
Then she was asleep. Real sleep this time. Healing sleep.
Aiko checked her pulse. "She'll be okay. Needs rest. Maybe some proper medical attention eventually. But she'll be okay."
Ren felt something loosen in his chest. Something he hadn't realized was clenched so tight.
"Thank you," he said. "For everything."
Aiko shrugged with her good shoulder. "Don't thank me yet. We still have to figure out how to get that fragment without Varn or his people stopping us. And now they know we're coming."
Ren thought about that. About the red light. About the rage it represented.
"We don't go back," he said slowly. "Not yet. We let them think we gave up. Let them lower their guard. And when they're not expecting it..."
"We hit them again."
"We hit them again." He looked at Aiko. "But this time, we do it right. We plan. We prepare. We make sure nobody else gets hurt."
Aiko nodded slowly. "I like the way you think."
Three days passed.
Sara recovered slowly. By the second day she was sitting up, eating, complaining about being confined to her bunk. By the third day she was walking, though still weak.
On the fourth day, they gathered in the galley to plan.
"The fragment is still there," Sara said, pulling up data on a holographic display. "Its energy signature hasn't changed. They're probably guarding it heavily now, but they haven't moved it."
"Why not?" Aiko asked.
"Because moving it might trigger the explosion. Varn wasn't lying about that. Your father's traps were designed to be nearly impossible to disarm."
"So, we need someone who can disarm it."
"Someone like you." Ren looked at Aiko. "You said you could fight. Can you handle explosives?"
Aiko smiled. "I can handle anything with wires."
"Good. Then here's the plan."
They spent hours going over every detail. Every possible complication. Every exit strategy. By the time they finished, the plan was solid. Dangerous, but solid.
One more day of preparation. Then they'd go back.
That night, Ren sat alone in the cockpit.
The red fragment pulsed in his awareness, closer now than before. Not physically. It was still on Kryllos, still waiting. But somehow, after the failed attempt, the connection felt stronger. More personal.
You're angry.
His father's voice. Soft. Understanding.
"Yes."
Good. Anger has its uses. It can drive you forward when nothing else will.
"I almost lost her. Because I was too slow. Too weak."
You were neither. You were outnumbered, out planned, outmaneuvered. That's not weakness. That's inexperience.
"How do I get experience without getting people killed?"
A pause. Then:
You learn. You plan. You surround yourself with people who fill the gaps in your own abilities. Like the girl. Like your mother. You don't have to do this alone, Ren. That's the lesson of the red fragment.
"The red fragment is rage."
Rage is part of it. But not all. The red fragment is passion. Intensity. The fire that burnt in your chest when something matters so much, you'd die for it. Your mother has that fire. The girl has it. You have it too.
Ren was quiet for a long moment.
"Dad?"
Yes?
"The red fragment. What aspect of you is in it?"
Another pause. Longer this time.
Love, his father finally said. The red fragment contains my love. For your mother. For you. For everyone I fought for. Rage is just love that's been hurt. Don't forget that.
The presence faded.
Ren sat alone, staring at the stars.
Love. The red fragment was love.
And he'd almost left it behind forever.
END OF CHAPTER 10