Interstellar: Return of the Villain

Nightfall was closing in. The twilight spread across the Planet of Eden Prime like a slow-moving wave, casting long shadows in its path.

For most, the day was over. But somewhere on this planet, a lab was still lit up, buzzing with activity.

Lyra Shedd's thoughts were starting to drift. She knew today might be her last.

Memories of her childhood flashed before her eyes—she was once a prodigy, blessed with two superpowers, making her parents proud.

But those happy times didn't last. Her parents died in a tragic accident, ripped apart by monstrous claws. Then, they were branded as "traitors." —It was easier to blame the dead when the real traitors were out of reach.

Lyra clenched her teeth. She knew she needed to get up and escape. But she was strapped to a gurney, unable to move.

Her mind wandered to the past—after her parents' deaths, she was shunned as the daughter of traitors. She endured the humiliation, all while growing stronger, waiting for the day she could clear her parents' names.

Delayed justice might seem pointless for her parents, but it was the least she could do for them.

She opened her eyes, scanning the room. Then she spotted five massive spikes hanging above her. These thick, sharp-tipped spikes gleamed menacingly, all aimed at her.

"Damn it, what did Grandpa make me drink?" she muttered, teeth gritted.

She didn't know why her grandfather had drugged her and brought her here.

Her eyes, bloodshot from the strain, looked even more terrifying under the harsh lights.

Realizing that anger would only hasten the poison's spread in her body, she took a deep breath and quickly scanned the room again.

A familiar figure came into view.

Suddenly, clarity hit her. She understood what was going on.

Standing beside her was Erin, her cousin and bitter rival.

Lyra fixed her gaze on Erin, her voice dripping with menace, "You better kill me today. If you don't, I swear I'll make you and everyone in the family wish you'd never been born."

Her calm tone carried the chill of a devil's whisper.

Erin crossed her arms, looking down at Lyra with a condescending smirk. She shook her head and said, "Lyra, make the most of your threats now, because after today, you won't have the chance to act tough anymore."

Then she turned to her underling and commanded, "Do it, now!"

The operator hesitated for a moment and asked, "Miss, shouldn't we use anesthesia?"

The Soul Spike was a notorious biological weapon, known for causing irreversible damage to Peculiars' bodily functions. Besides its severe consequences, the pain during the implantation process was unimaginable.

Erin, looking impatient, sneered, "Her parents were traitors! They betrayed us all! Why would you feel sorry for her? Do it now, before her superpower comes back. Otherwise, she'll freeze us solid and shatter us into pieces."

The operator, aware of Lyra's reputation, knew that hesitation could bring disaster. He quickly operated the device, plunging the cold, hard Spikes into Lyra's left wrist.

Instantly, excruciating pain shot through Lyra's body like an electric shock. It felt as if her wrist had been smashed by a sledgehammer.

Next came the right wrist, then the left ankle, and the right ankle.

As Lyra screamed in agony, blood slowly soaked the mat beneath her. The crimson liquid flowed onto the floor, glaringly bright.

The final Soul Spike was aimed at Lyra's chest. She gasped, feeling the pain, her pale face twisted in a grimace.

The operator swallowed hard. Normally, one Soul Spike was enough to ruin a Master Peculiar. Here, they had prepared five for Lyra.

HISS—

Blood sprayed from Lyra's chest. Her body convulsed violently, and her mouth, which had been open in a scream, suddenly fell silent, as if her throat had been seized.

She remained there, mouth agape, veins bulging on her face, like a statue frozen in agony.

Erin laughed with delight and lifted her chin, saying, "I didn't tell you to stop."

Her beautiful eyes gleamed with lethal intent.

A strange machine, resembling half an eggshell, lowered over Lyra's head.

A man wearing a clown mask appeared, his fingers thin and bony like tree branches. He pressed a button.

The eggshell emitted a low hum, and a peculiar energy wave filled the air.

As Lyra teetered on the brink of unconsciousness, she struggled violently. She opened her mouth again, but her voice was completely hoarse now.

"ARGH—"

She felt as if thousands of strange insects were burrowing into her skull, sucking at her brain. She could feel her mental energy draining away, bit by bit.

The operator stepped back quietly, fear creeping into his heart. Lyra had endured the Soul Spikes, but her screams from this new torment were horrifying beyond imagination.

He couldn't fathom who had invented this technology—it could extract a Peculiar's Core Crystal, the source of their superpowers.

Lyra quickly realized the gravity of the situation—her power of freezing was vanishing.

Five icicles appeared above her head, indicating her freezing power level: level five.

The room filled with a chilling cold. The temperature plummeted to minus.

Erin rubbed her arms, her eyes fixated on the forming Crystal Core. This was something she had dreamed of for countless nights, and now her dream was coming true.

As the crystal fully formed, she couldn't help pushing past the others and rush over.

"Is it done?" she asked, a bit uncertain.

The masked man nodded, "There's also a Crystal Core of healing…"

"Leave that one for her," Erin said thoughtfully, her expression shifting to one of resigned disgust. "We can't kill her yet. She's from a noble family. Her mother is a marquis' daughter, and we need to consider that."

Killing a noble person would attract too much unwanted attention. Letting her keep the power of healing would be wiser—it would allow her to survive without posing a significant threat.

That's right. Erin's ultimate goal was to keep Lyra alive, like a maggot in a dark, filthy gutter.

At that moment, a man in robes entered the room. He was an eighth-level Spellbinder, there to place the final seal on Lyra.

"By thy own blood, thou art sworn. Speak not a word of this day's deeds to outsiders; shouldst thou break this vow, then..."

As he finished the incantation, blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, and his eyes glazed over for a moment.

Lyra's powerful psychokinesis had fought fiercely against the binding, like a raging lion.

The Spellbinder had to exert all his energy to cast this curse, which drained him immensely.

When he regained his composure, he noticed Erin's impatient gaze. Hastily, he said, "Miss, it is done."

His momentary daze was partly due to shock and fear. The Spellbinder was certain that if Lyra had a few more years to grow, she would easily break his spell.

"Good, you can go," Erin waved dismissively and then eagerly walked towards Lyra. Her steps left red footprints on the floor as she stepped through the blood.

Lyra's hair was soaked with sweat, making her look utterly miserable. She had lost so much blood that her face was as pale as paper, and her eyes had lost focus.

The Spikes had ravaged her body, and the struggle against the curse had drained her psychokinesis.

Lyra lost consciousness.

Erin smiled like a devil. She murmured to herself, "By tomorrow morning, news will spread throughout the galaxy. Lyra, the once-genius Peculiar, has lost her proud power of freezing overnight. Now, she has nothing but the utterly useless power of healing. Savor this humiliation, Lyra. You deserve it."

Erin turned to leave, but just then, Lyra's faint voice whispered, "I will come back."

Barely clinging to life, Lyra's last hope for her family extinguished.

In a way, Erin was right—Lyra deserved this. She had naively believed she could reform the vipers in her family. In the end, these vipers had brought about her downfall.