"I don't remember hearing anything about a tech squad being dispatched here," he growled, his boots thudding against the metal floor as he closed the distance between them. "So go ahead and tell me. Who sent you?"
He raised a gloved hand, reaching out like he intended to grab her shoulder. "You better start talking, or—"
But before his fingers could even brush her armor, a flash of red light streaked through the air swift and merciless.
The soldier's hand… kept floating in the air for a split second, then dropped to the floor with a wet thud, severed cleanly at the wrist. Blood sprayed across the tent's wall like a violent signature.
The man stared at the stump in disbelief, eyes wide, his mouth hanging open in silent horror.
"What the fu—"
But before the rest of the sentence could escape his lips, Lyra was already in motion. Her right hand, still glowing faintly with energy from the attack, reached forward and grabbed him by the throat.
