The planning room was smaller than Tatehan expected.

It was tucked away in one of the upper levels of the Red Crest Clan headquarters, a windowless space with a large table dominating the center, surrounded by chairs. Holographic projectors were mounted in the ceiling, currently displaying a three-dimensional map of the sky fortress that rotated slowly above the table.

Tatehan and Lyra had been in here for hours.

The fortress looked even more intimidating up close, or as close as a hologram could get. The structure was massive, its skeletal framework already imposing even in its half-finished state. Support beams crisscrossed the design, connecting massive platforms that would eventually house weapon emplacements, barracks, and command centers. At the center was the core—a large, cylindrical structure that vibrated with energy. That was the power source, the heart of the entire operation.

"If we take out the core," Lyra said, pointing to it with a slim metal stylus, "the whole thing loses power. But getting to it is the problem."

Tatehan leaned forward, studying the map.

"How many entry points are there?" he asked.

Lyra tapped a command on the table's interface, and the hologram shifted, highlighting several locations in red.

"Four main access points," she said. "Here, here, here, and here. All heavily guarded. There are smaller maintenance hatches scattered around the perimeter, but they're too small for a full strike team to use effectively."

Tatehan frowned, his eyes tracing the layout.

"What about defenses?" he asked.

Lyra pulled up another overlay, this one showing the locations of turrets, sensors, and patrol routes.

"Automated turrets here and here," she said. "Drone patrols every fifteen minutes along the perimeter. Motion sensors at every entry point. And we can assume there are soldiers stationed throughout the structure, though we don't have exact numbers."

Tatehan exhaled slowly.

"So we can't sneak in, and a direct assault is suicide," he muttered.

"Not necessarily," Lyra said, her tone thoughtful.

She zoomed in on one of the support beams, then gestured to several key structural points.

"If we hit these weak points with enough force, we can destabilize the entire structure. But the problem is getting explosives in place without being detected."

Tatehan stared at the hologram, his mind working through the logistics.

Then an idea struck him.

"What if we send the bombs in first?" he said.

Lyra looked at him, curious.

"What do you mean?"

"We have tech experts, right?" Tatehan said. "People who can control drones, remote systems, all that?"

Lyra nodded.

"Then we use tiny bombs," Tatehan continued. "Almost invisible. Small enough that their sensors won't pick them up as threats. We deploy them ahead of time, maybe disguised as debris or construction materials, and plant them at the weak points. The tech experts control them remotely, and when we launch the assault, they activate the bombs right before we hit."

Lyra's eyes widened slightly.

"That... could actually work," she said slowly.

She pulled up a simulation, running the scenario through the holographic interface. Tiny markers appeared on the map, moving toward the fortress and attaching to the structural weak points. Then, as a strike team approached, the markers detonated in sequence.

The fortress collapsed in the simulation, its support beams buckling under the coordinated explosions.

Lyra looked at Tatehan, impressed.

"That's smart," she said. "Really smart."

Tatehan shrugged, though he felt a small swell of pride.

"It's the only way I see us pulling this off without losing half the team," he said.

Lyra nodded, already making notes on the interface.

"I'll coordinate with the tech division," she said. "We'll need to design the bombs specifically for this, small, undetectable, but powerful enough to do real damage."

"Can they do it in three days?" Tatehan asked.

Lyra hesitated, then nodded.

"They'll have to," she said.

They worked late into the night, refining the plan.

Lyra marked the exact locations where the bombs needed to be placed. Tatehan calculated the timing, how long it would take for the strike team to reach the fortress, how much of a window they'd have between detonation and structural collapse.

At some point, someone had brought them food—bland ration bars and bottles of water, but neither of them had eaten much. They were too focused.

It was well past midnight when Lyra finally leaned back in her chair, rubbing her eyes.

"We should take a break," she said.

Tatehan glanced at the time display on the wall and blinked. He hadn't realized how late it had gotten.

"Yeah," he agreed. "Probably a good idea."

Lyra stood and stretched, then moved to a small dispenser in the corner of the room. She pulled out two cups of something that looked like coffee and handed one to Tatehan.

He took it gratefully, taking a sip. It was bitter, but warm, and it helped clear the fog in his head.

They sat in silence for a moment, the holographic map still rotating above the table.

Then Lyra spoke, her tone more casual now.

"What was your life like?" she asked. "On Mars. When you were younger."

Tatehan froze for a split second.

Shit.

He hadn't expected that question.

The truth was, he wasn't from Mars. He was from Earth. And he'd somehow ended up here, a century in the future, on a planet he barely understood. There was no way he could tell her that without sounding insane.

So he lied.

"It was... kinda fun," he said, keeping his tone light. "Nothing too exciting. Just normal stuff, I guess."

Lyra raised an eyebrow.

"Normal stuff?" she repeated, a hint of amusement in her voice. "Come on. Give me more than that."

Tatehan scratched the back of his head, trying to think of something believable.

"I don't know," he said. "I spent a lot of time reading. Exploring. Staying out of trouble, mostly."

Lyra smiled faintly.

"Sounds boring," she said.

Tatehan laughed.

"It was," he admitted.

Lyra studied him for a moment, like she was trying to figure out if he was being honest. Then she let it go, taking another sip of her coffee.

"You said you had books," she said, changing the subject. "The ones you mentioned earlier."

Tatehan nodded.

"Yeah. You still want them?"

"Definitely," Lyra said, her eyes lighting up slightly.

Tatehan reached into his inventory, a simple mental command, and summoned two novels. They materialized in his hands, solid and real. Both were science fiction, thick paperbacks.

He handed them to Lyra, who took them eagerly.

"Thanks," she said, flipping through the pages of one. "I haven't had anything new to read in weeks."

"Everyone here has an inventory, right?" Tatehan asked, just to confirm.

Lyra nodded.

"Yeah. Standard system interface. Everyone on Mars has one. Storage, abilities, status displays, all that."

Tatehan hesitated, then asked the question that had been on his mind.

"What's your ability?" he said.

Lyra looked up from the book, then set it down on the table.

"You really want to know?" she asked with a smile.

"Yeah," Tatehan said.

Lyra stood and took a few steps back, giving herself space.

"Alright," she said. "Watch."

She closed her eyes, concentrating. Then, behind her, the air began to warp.

A dark, swirling void appeared, a black hole, small but unmistakable. It glowed with gravitational energy, distorting the light around it.

Tatehan's eyes widened.

And then, in an instant, Lyra was gone.

She'd been sucked into the black hole, disappearing completely.

Tatehan stood, alarmed, but before he could say anything, another black hole appeared across the room, and Lyra stepped out of it as if she'd just walked through a door.

The black holes collapsed, vanishing as quickly as they'd appeared.

Lyra grinned at the look on Tatehan's face.

"It's called Void Step," she said. "I can create temporary black holes and use them to teleport short distances. At my current level, I can't go too far, maybe fifty meters max. But it's useful in battle. Makes me hard to pin down."

Tatehan stared at her, genuinely impressed. Kinda similar to her dad's ability in a way, the phantom leap.

"That's insane," he said.

Lyra shrugged, though she looked pleased.

"It's handy," she said. "Especially when you're half-robot. I'm already pretty powerful physically, but the ability gives me an edge."

Tatehan nodded slowly, his mind already running through the tactical applications. If Lyra could teleport in the middle of a combat, she could flank enemies, avoid attacks, reposition instantly. That was a hell of an advantage.

He briefly considered telling her about his own abilities—the gravity manipulation, the kinetic absorption, partial regeneration, heightened perception and all that. But something held him back.

Not yet, he thought.

He told her that he had gravity manipulation and she thought it was really cool.

They spent the next hour finalizing the strike team selection.

Lyra pulled up personnel files on the holographic interface, dozens of soldiers, each with their own specializations and abilities.

"We need about forty people," Lyra said. "Enough to secure the fortress and plant backup explosives if the remote bombs fail, but not so many that we're a slow, obvious target."

Tatehan nodded, watching as she scrolled through the files.

"I'll handle the selection," Lyra said. "You don't know most of these people, and I've worked with them before. I know who's reliable."

"Works for me," Tatehan said.

Lyra marked names, assembling the team with efficiency. Scouts, heavy weapons specialists, engineers, medics. She made sure the team was balanced, versatile, ready for anything.

By the time she was done, the roster was complete.

Forty soldiers.

Forty lives that would be depending on Tatehan's leadership.

He tried not to think about that too hard.

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