PROJECT: CAYRO

Chapter 38: Consuming Wrath



Star Zaraki:

September 5, 2025

07:09 CST

The Death Reckoning

45,000 feet by 28 miles northeast of Victoria TX.

I watched from the upper bunk, trying to stay as low as possible, my heart racing as the fight unfolded below me. Cayro had been knocked down by the first guy he punched and was now pinned beneath him. The sergeant aimed her gun, searching for a clear shot. I held my breath, my eyes wide as I saw the man raise his fist to strike Cayro again. But then something unexpected happened—Cayro’s arm shot up, and to my shock, claws formed at the tips of his fingers.

I gasped in surprise, a cold shiver running down my spine. The man must have sensed the danger because he tried to pull back, but it was too late. Cayro’s claws tore through his chest with brutal force, and I cringed as blood sprayed through the air, the sickening sound of splintering bones echoing in my ears. With a feral strength I had never seen in him before, Cayro flung the man into the wall with a loud, wet thud. The body lay motionless, blood pooling around it.

I barely had time to process what had happened before the sergeant’s gun flashed. The shot echoed through the room, but to my astonishment, Cayro moved faster than I could follow, dodging the bullet with inhuman speed. A vicious, guttural snarl erupted from him, a sound that was anything but human, before he launched himself at the sergeant, tackling her to the floor. He lifted her effortlessly, tossing her out the door and into another person who had been entering. Both hit the opposite wall of the corridor with a bone-jarring impact. Neither of them got up.

Cayro turned to face me, his posture predatory, his breath coming in ragged, animalistic growls. “Let’s go,” he growled, his voice deep and husky, sending a shiver down my spine. There was something primal in his tone, something that awakened a fear—and something else—deep inside me. I climbed down from the bed, my legs trembling as I stood before him. His visor reflected my face, but through the sheen, I could almost make out two bright yellow points of light, glowing like the eyes of a predator in the night.

He turned away, leading me to the door. He poked his head out to check the corridor, but as he leaned back, the door suddenly slid shut with a hiss. I caught a glimpse of the sergeant crawling away just before it closed. She must have hit the controls. A low, vicious growl rumbled from Cayro, and I took a step back, watching as he grabbed the edge of the door. His muscles flexed beneath the suit, and with a terrifying display of strength, he ripped the door open, leaving deep gouges in the frame. The sergeant lay near the door, her eyes wide with terror as she tried to scramble away. Cayro reached down, grabbing her by the throat, growling in her face before throwing her down the corridor like a rag doll. She hit the floor with a sickening crunch and didn’t move.

Cayro’s hand clamped around my arm, his grip firm but not painful, as he pushed me in front of him, pointing to the door at the other end of the corridor.

“Go!” his voice was more command than request.

I ran to the door, my heart pounding as I hit the control panel. The door slid open into a large, dark space, just as the lights flared to life. The sudden brightness blinded me for a moment, and I raised my arm to shield my eyes. Before I could react, Cayro rushed past me, slamming into another figure with a sickening thud. Lowering my arm, I saw him tear into the man with brutal efficiency, blood spraying across the room. The screech of metal echoed as Cayro’s claws raked the floor, severing the man’s arm with a single swipe. The man’s scream of agony was cut short as Cayro’s claws found his neck, silencing him forever.

Something was seriously wrong with Cayro. I had never seen him like this—so feral, so violent. Fear gripped me as I ran toward him, grabbing his arm and pulling with all my strength.

“Cayro, we have to go,” I pleaded, my voice trembling. He looked up at me, growling, blood trickling down his visor, those yellow, glowing eyes staring at me through the tint. I swallowed hard, trying to keep the fear out of my voice. “Let’s go,” I urged again, tugging on his arm.

He stood up without a word and headed toward the next door, his movements deliberate and unrelenting. A gunshot suddenly rang out, the bullet pinging harmlessly off his suit. Instinctively, I spun around, raising the M9. My finger squeezed the trigger, and a round hit the oncoming figure square in the chest. Without hesitating, I fired two more shots in quick succession. The person crumpled to the floor, unmoving.

Turning back toward Cayro, I barely had time to react before he swept me off my feet, pressing me against his chest as he carried me out of the bay. We flew down another corridor at breakneck speed, reaching a door. I quickly reached out, slamming my hand against the control panel. The door slid open just as Cayro charged through, not breaking his stride. We descended a debris-covered staircase, his steps sure and precise despite the wreckage underfoot.

At the bottom, we came to another door. The control panel flashed red, accompanied by a sharp beep. The crew had locked down the ship, trying to trap us. Cayro set me down and immediately went to work on the door. I watched as he strained, the muscles beneath his suit bulging as he forced the door open. It groaned in protest, but slowly, it gave way, peeling back to reveal a corridor in ruins.

Before I could catch my breath, the door at the top of the stairs hissed open, and a shout echoed down the hall.

“They’re down here!”

Without missing a beat, Cayro shoved me through the gap he’d created and followed closely behind. Turning, I watched as he forced the damaged door shut, barricading our pursuers inside. His breath was labored now, each inhale sounding strained. Something was terribly wrong. But he pushed me along the destroyed corridor, urgency propelling him forward.

We reached another door, this one left ajar, light spilling through the opening along with the warmth of humid air. I followed him outside onto a damaged section of decking exposed to the elements. Next to the door, a large black skyboard leaned against the bulkhead. Cayro grabbed it with a single hand and stepped onto the exposed floor decking, the board flaring to life beneath him. As I approached, I saw blood trailing down his suit from his left shoulder, darkening the exterior of his suit. My heart sank. He was bleeding—badly. When had that happened? Was that the cause of his strange behavior?

Without a word, he offered me his hand, and I took it, stepping onto the board beside him. His grip was strong, but something in his posture was different—more erratic, more feral. I glanced up at his visor, catching a glimpse of the bright yellow glow beneath it. Whatever was happening to him wasn’t normal. He was acting like a trapped animal, and I could feel the wildness radiating off him.

As we soared away from the battered military ship, I resolved to figure this out when we got back to the Autumn. Whatever my father had done to Cayro, he would fix it—or I’d make his life a living hell. I wasn’t going to let this go.

The sun began to crest over the horizon, filling the morning sky with deep amber light as we flew, the glow casting long shadows over the water below. But even as the warmth of the rising sun touched my skin, a cold knot of fear tightened in my chest. Something had been unleashed inside Cayro, something dangerous. And I wasn’t sure if we could control it.


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