Ryker couldn't risk waiting. He typed out the full, non-coded message to Rowland, knowing the risk of transmission was high, but the necessity of stabilizing Lyra was higher.
FROM: COMMANDER THORNE.
TO: HEALER.
SUBJECT: PHASE TWO URGENT.
Need immediate stabilization package. Subject showing psychic distress (seal conflict). Meet at Garrison Maintenance Hatch Gamma-1 at 0400 hours. Use standard retrieval cover. Approach must be solitary and untraceable.
He waited for the "Message Sent" confirmation, then immediately wiped the data from his communicator, restoring it to a factory-clean state. He then settled back on his stool, the silence of the Isolation Block stretching into a tense vigil.
At precisely 0400 hours, Ryker heard the faint, distant scrape of metal against concrete—a sound only a soldier trained in covert operations would notice. He rose silently, leaving Lyra still caught in her feverish, internal war, and made his way to the hidden access point: Maintenance Hatch Gamma-1.
It was a rusted, seldom-used hatch on the exterior wall of the block, obscured by overgrown weeds and positioned directly above a deep drainage culvert.
Ryker activated the internal lock. The hatch swung inward, revealing the Healer, dressed in the dark, heavy work clothes of a civilian maintenance contractor. He looked tense and utterly out of place, carrying a large, nondescript toolbox.
"Commander, this is madness," Rowland muttered, stepping inside and quickly sealing the hatch. The scent of disinfectant and dust filled the air. "I had to forge three separate work authorizations to even get near the perimeter."
"The asset is critical," Ryker stated, cutting short any complaint. "The amnesia is stable, but the Seal is fighting her mind. She's in distress. Did you bring what I asked for?"
The Healer opened the toolbox. It wasn't full of wrenches, but specialized medical supplies. He pulled out a small, metallic canister wrapped in linen.
"This is the stabilizing package," the Healer said, his voice dropping to the professional tone of the physician. "It's an infusion of Aether-Bind Elixir mixed with a low-dose, non-addictive sedative. The elixir won't break the Seven-Point Seal, but it will chemically enhance the magical barrier, calming the internal resistance. It should stabilize her sleep and prevent a psychic break."
"Instructions," Ryker demanded.
"Intravenous injection, slowly, over ten minutes. It must reach her bloodstream gradually to avoid shocking the seal. If you rush it, you could destabilize the whole construct." The Healer looked at Ryker's hands. "Commander, I know you're not medically trained. This is a delicate process."
"I will manage," Ryker affirmed, his focus absolute. He took the medical pouch, securing it inside his uniform jacket.
"Emrys also sent a secondary package," Rowland added, pulling out a slim, leather-bound folder.
"Her initial findings on the Werewolf Kingdoms. You can't rely on my elixirs alone; you need knowledge."
Ryker took the folder. "Go. The longer you're here, the greater the risk to the entire operation. Stay out of sight until I contact you again."
The Healer nodded, a look of profound worry fixed on Ryker, and slipped back out into the pre-dawn darkness, sealing the hatch behind him.
Ryker returned to Lyra's cot. He briefly looked at the leather folder, resisting the urge to open it. Knowledge could wait; the girl's sanity could not.
He unwrapped the medical tools. He was a Commander, a soldier, and a fugitive. Now, he had to become a meticulous physician. He found a vein in Lyra's arm, slid the thin needle in, and began the slow, measured infusion of the Aether-Bind Elixir.Ryker watched the slow drip of the Aether-Bind Elixir, his attention split between the medical process and the leather-bound folder resting inches away. His hand was steady, performing the delicate task with the focused precision he usually reserved for disarming complex traps.
Ten minutes later, the syringe was empty. He carefully removed the needle, cleaned the application site, and secured the apparatus.
Almost immediately, the change in Lyra was profound.
The tremors stopped. The pained whimpers faded. Her frantic, internal distress seemed to retreat, replaced by a deep, restful calm. Her breathing smoothed out, becoming regular and even. Even the unnatural cold radiating from her skin seemed to subside slightly, warming to a more normal temperature. The Elixir had done its job: it hadn't removed the seal, but it had magically buffered it, muting the conflict and giving her mind a necessary reprieve.
Ryker sat back down on the metal stool, exhaustion finally creeping into his bones. He was safe, for now, from the immediate catastrophe of a psychic detonation.
He looked at the peaceful, bruised face of the girl. Without the signs of internal struggle, she simply looked like an exhausted child who had finally found safety. He felt a deep, unexpected surge of protectiveness. He hadn't known this girl forty-eight hours ago. Now, he had risked his entire life, his career, and his honor for her.
He ran a hand over his face. He wasn't a hero driven by altruism; he was a pragmatist driven by justice. But this felt different. His own survival was now inextricably linked to hers. If she failed, the Elders would execute him for treason; if she succeeded, he would be her only shield against an unforgiving world of supernatural politics.
He had promised her: "I will be the one who decides what happens next."
He picked up the leather folder the Captain had delivered. It was time to stop being a reluctant guard and start being an informed commander. He needed to define the enemy they were running from.
He opened the folder. The first page was a heavily censored summary, the title chillingly stark:
THE THREE KINGDOMS
The data was compiled from ancient military intelligence, restricted magical assessments, and diplomatic failures. Emrys had focused on the three major power structures that governed the hidden world of Therianthropes—shapeshifters—specifically those known to covet or utilize powerful, forgotten magic.
1. The Obsidian Pack (The Pure Bloods): Located far North, masters of territorial conquest and physical dominance. Their society is built on rigid hierarchy and magical purity.
Known Goal: Retrieval of any artifact or individual possessing unstable, raw Lycan potential to augment their own bloodline.
Known Danger: Brutal. They value power over life. If they discover Lyra, they will break the seal to harness her as a weapon.
2. The Ironwood Collective (The Hidden Faction): A highly secretive, isolated Kingdom operating in the dense eastern forests. They are known to possess ancient, esoteric knowledge and a deep understanding of concealment spells and political puppetry.
Known Goal: Retrieval or study of any active containment magic, especially those related to Lycan origin. They would seek to possess the secrets of the Seven-Point Seal itself.
Known Danger: Subtle and intelligent. They would not use brute force, but rather infiltrate and manipulate the Citadel to get close to Lyra.
3. The Free Cities Coven (The Mercenaries): Not a kingdom, but a sprawling, powerful network of rogue shifters and mages operating in the lawless Free Cities across the continent. They are primarily driven by wealth and magical commerce.
Known Goal: Anything with value. A Lycan child with an ancient, functional containment spell on her mind is an immeasurably valuable commodity on the magical black market.
Known Danger: They answer to no one.
They might already be active, tipped off by the initial border incident, or by the slow query Ryker sent to his own contact—Vara the Broker.
Ryker closed the folder slowly, the quiet of the Isolation Block suddenly feeling deafening. He had expected an enemy; he hadn't expected three distinct, terrifying threats, each capable of destroying his kingdom and claiming Lyra for a different, awful purpose.
He looked at the sleeping girl. The small act of compassion he began had grown into a political struggle, a magical rescue, and now, a silent war against the most dangerous hidden powers in the world.