Lyra scanned the battered convoy team. "I'm going after Ansel. I can't spare more energy here."
Just as she turned to leave, Leandro's faint, rasping voice emerged from behind her. "I... order you... capture Ansel. Alive... or dead."
The authority in his words was unmistakable; it was an emergency command.
Lyra paused, her gaze hardening as she looked down at him. "Yes, sir."
In a swift motion, she stepped onto a gleaming energy shield that lifted her skyward.
Armor wrapped around her, wings unfolding at her back, and, like a hunting hawk, she soared into the clouds, tearing through the air in pursuit.
Meanwhile, far ahead, Ansel led his followers through a rapid spatial shift. Then, a chilling sensation ran down his spine.
In a flash, Ansel sliced open a rift in the fabric of space just as blazing green energy bolts hurtled past him, vanishing harmlessly into the void.
"Stay alert!" he shouted, but his warning came too late.