Chapter 159

Meanwhile at the other side of the Ship.

The steel floor creaked beneath Hope's boots as she slipped through the dim, narrow corridor of the decrepit ship. The only light came from flickering wall panels and the soft blue glow of her holo-glasses, scanning for heat signatures, chemical traces—anything that would lead her to the stash she needed. The air was thick with rust and the faint stench of engine oil. Her fingers hovered over the side panel of her visor, adjusting filters until the walls began to blur and the digital overlay lit up with a faint red pulse.

"There," she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

A section of the wall flickered faintly on her scan. Hollow. Not natural. She pressed her hand against the seam, then found a hidden panel-old tech, rusted but not dead. She punched in a quick override sequence and the wall hissed open with a sigh of stale air.

What she saw wasn't drugs. Not yet.

It was a prison.

Chains bolted to the walls. The flickering of malfunctioning lights overhead. And right there in the center, strapped to a chair with bruises across his face and a gag in his mouth... Drax.

But he wasn't alone.

Four heavily armed men surrounded him, one holding an electric prod, the others standing watch with the sadistic look of men who had enjoyed being in control for far

too long.

One of them turned, his eyes narrowing at the figure in the doorway. "Who the hell are you?"

Hope stepped in without flinching, her voice cool. "Your worst day."

"Get her!" he barked.

The first thug charged her like a bull-but she was already in motion. She ducked low, spun on one knee, and swept his legs out from under him. Before he hit the floor, she was up, driving her elbow into his throat. He choked and dropped.

Another came at her with a metal rod. She caught it mid-swing, twisted it out of his grip with a sharp snap, then jabbed the butt into his ribs and crushed his nose with her palm. The man crumpled.

The third and fourth tried to rush her together. Bad call.

Hope pivoted on her heel, slammed one against the wall with a side kick, then twisted the other into an arm-lock, flipped him over her shoulder, and let his body crash hard into the floor with a satisfying thud.

Silence fell.

Drax groaned behind the gag. She approached and tore off the duct tape.

"What the hell took you so long?" he growled, his face twisted with frustration.

Hope raised an eyebrow. "How about a 'thank you' first?"

He scowled. "You left me chained to a chair like some damn animal-”

"Oh, shut up," she said flatly, already moving to the second

prisoner Tiny removing the cuffs from his wrists. “You're lucky I came at all. I was here for a mission, not babysitting."

She tossed Drax a small blade. "Let's go. Fast."

They exited the room, weaving

through the tight corridors of theat

vessel, but it didn't take long before trouble found them again.

.net>

Twenty men stood at the end of the passage, all holding tools, pipes, makeshift

weapons. Flinty eyes. Bad intentions.

One of them sneered. "Well, well... the rats brought friends."

Hope stepped forward, cracking her neck. "Drax, you ready?"

He grinned, wiping blood from his mouth. "I thought you'd never ask."

They launched forward like two storms colliding. Drax took the left flank, hammering through the bulk of the muscle with brutal punches and bone-snapping knees. Hope moved like a blade in motion-fast, surgical, precise. She ducked a swing, drove a palm into a throat, flipped the next guy over her back and dislocated a knee in the same motion. The corridor echoed with groans, cracks, the clatter of dropped weapons.

Ten men dropped. Then fifteen. The last few ran.

Hope exhaled, chest rising and falling with heavy breath.

Drax wiped his forehead. "Still think you came for a mission you weakling?"

She ignored him. Pulled out her tablet.

A notification flashed red across the screen. Incoming.

Her eyes narrowed.

"What is it?" Drax asked.

She tapped into the signal feed. Her face paled slightly.

"That's... that's General Kaelus," she said slowly, the name carrying weight, power,

fear. "From Ironvale City."

Drax's smirk faded. "What the hell is he doing here?"