Chapter 649:
Deandre’s fist came crashing down on the table as he sprang to his feet. “If Rylie could make it inside, then I can too. I’m going after her!”
“Deandre!” Marcus grabbed his shoulder, forcing him back. “Don’t throw yourself into the same pit. Do you want Grandpa to lose all three of you in one day? You’re trained, but this is beyond what any of us can manage.”
“So what do you mean? We just sit here and watch her die?” Deandre screamed, his voice raw.
Marcus met his rage with steady resolve. “She’s not just anyone. She’s the Healing Hand.”
Shock flashed across Deandre’s face. “What did you just say?”
Marcus’ voice carried a heavy weight as he answered. “You’ve seen what the Healing Hand can do. She brought Lochlan back from the brink, and she was the one who ended his son’s life. That woman… she’s our sister. She’s more capable than we can imagine.”
The memories hit Deandre hard—that secret sniper’s precise aim and unshakable composure, the way she fought like no one else he had ever known.
Could someone like that truly be Rylie?
If Marcus’ words were real…
Then maybe, just maybe, hope wasn’t gone after all.
Marcus kept his gaze steady as he spoke. “We need to place our faith in her. She left us that note, said she’d need seventy-two hours. Let’s give her the time she asked for.”
Far below the surface, the mine breathed menace. The air carried dust that clung to the throat, and the silence pressed down like a warning.
Rylie rested her weight against a slab of stone, her breathing shallow and uneven.
Her leg twisted at an angle no human body should endure, and waves of pain rolled through her until her vision blurred. Cold sweat slicked her skin despite the freezing air.
Stories live now on galnσ𝓿𝑒ℓ𝓼․𝑐o𝓶
The protective suit she wore had been shredded on jagged rock, streaks of blood already drying against the fabric.
No sound of weakness left her lips. She dug into her kit, forcing her hands steady as she reset the dislocated bone with gritted teeth.
The agony struck hard enough to bring more sweat to her brow, but she kept moving, binding her leg with a strip of wood and bandages to hold it straight. A syringe of painkiller pierced her skin next. She slumped for a moment against the rough wall, waiting for the relief to dull the fire in her muscles.
Even battered and bloodied, her eyes stayed clear, sharp with resolve. In her palm, she held a jagged crystal that shimmered with eerie blue and violet light beneath her lamp. This was the very poison that had ravaged Felix.
With careful precision, she slid the crystal into her pack, checking again that the smaller sample she carried—silver-white and gleaming like liquid metal—remained secure.
It was a rare, highly valuable mineral she had discovered by chance deep within the mine.
The recorder strapped to her chest clicked on. Between shallow breaths, she described the cavern walls, the hazards she’d faced, and the safest way forward into the depths.
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