First Intergalactic Emperor: Starting With The Ancient Goddess-Chapter 472: Jareth

Lyra crossed the small gap between them without hesitation, eyes bright in a way they hadn’t been for days, and Jareth opened his arms like he’d been waiting for that exact moment. He didn’t squeeze her hard or make a show of it. He just held her, steady and familiar, one hand resting against the back of her head the way people did when they wanted to make sure someone was real.

"You look thinner," he said. "And tired."

Lyra let out a breath that sounded half like a laugh and half like relief. "You look the same. Still pretending you don’t worry."

Jareth smiled at her. "That stopped working years ago."

She stepped back, still smiling, and for a moment it felt almost normal.

That moment didn’t last.

Reva hadn’t lowered her stance. Her fangs were still visible, her eyes fixed on Jareth and the vehicle behind him, counting shapes, counting doors, counting how many people could pour out of it if things went wrong. Viola kept both guns up, not rushing, just waiting. Requiem stood with the blade angled across his body, prepared to strike at any sign of discomfort.

None of them shared Lyra’s relief.

Reva spoke first. "You don’t just show up like this by accident."

Jareth turned his attention to her without offense. "No," he said. "I don’t."

Lyra looked between them, confusion creeping in. "He’s not—"

"Lyra," Reva said gently but firmly, "we’re not saying he’s nothing. We’re saying the timing is wrong."

The lights from the large vehicle hummed softly behind Jareth.

Lyra swallowed and nodded, then turned back to Jareth. "They’re right to be careful," she said. "After the bounty, we can’t trust anyone just because they’re familiar."

Jareth inclined his head. "I’d be worried if you did."

She took a breath and then spoke quickly, like she wanted to anchor the room before it drifted further. "Jareth isn’t just someone I know. He was Bull’s friend. He was vice-captain on the mothership. He ran navigation and crew discipline, kept half the ship from tearing itself apart when things went bad."

She glanced at Reva. "Bull trusted him with routes, with his people, and with me."

Reva didn’t soften. "According to what I know, Bull trusted a lot of people, and got betrayed because of it."

Requiem stepped forward half a pace, blade still in hand but lowered enough to show he was asking before acting. "Here’s what matters," he said. "How did you find us?"

Jareth didn’t hesitate.

"I had eyes out," he said. "Not on you directly at first. On Lyra. After Kylus put the bounty out, I knew she’d be the magnet. If I waited, someone else would reach her first, and that someone wouldn’t be talking."

Viola’s gaze sharpened. "So you were following us?"

"One of my people was," Jareth replied. "From a distance. Never close enough to force a move. Never close enough to panic you. I told them to break contact the moment it looked risky."

Reva’s jaw tightened. "You watched us without saying anything."

"Yes," Jareth said. "Because if I approached too early, you’d bolt. Or worse, you’d fight. And I didn’t know who you trusted yet."

Viola still didn’t lower her guns. She had the most experience with teams, and she knew how one could betray another over the fraction of a second.

Her grip stayed steady, arms locked, eyes fixed on Jareth like she was weighing how fast she could put holes through him if the answer came out wrong.

"How do we know this isn’t about the bounty," she said. "How do we know you’re not planning to sell us to Kylus and walk away rich."

Jareth stared at her for a second, then let out a rough laugh that had nothing polite in it.

"For fuck’s sake," he said. "You think I’d crawl out of hiding, roll up with half my caravan lit up like a festival, and announce myself if I wanted your heads."

He shook his head, almost offended. "I’ve got more fortune stashed across systems than Kylus has ever touched. Ships. Vaults. Old Bull caches he never even logged. I don’t do things for money, and I sure as hell don’t do errands for a mercenary who thinks fear is power."

Jareth met her eyes directly. "And if I was really doing all this for a bounty," he said, "you wouldn’t be standing here with weapons drawn. I would have brought more people. Different people. I would have waited until you were tired and boxed in instead of announcing myself in the open."

He turned slightly and gestured toward the massive vehicle behind him. "Come with me. All of you. I’ll keep you off the grid in my ship."

Lyra stepped forward again, urgency breaking through her fear. "Please," she said. "I know him. I’ve known him since I was a kid. He was there before the mothership even had a name. He raised me with Bull. He’s the one who taught me how to read star charts and how to kill without shaking."

She looked back at Reva, eyes bright, voice steady. "If he wanted me sold, I wouldn’t have made it this far."

Reva held her gaze for a long moment.

Then she exhaled slowly, fangs retracting as the tension eased out of her shoulders. Viola lowered her guns a fraction, not fully holstering them but no longer aiming. Requiem let the blade drop to his side, though his hand didn’t leave the grip.

"Alright," Reva said. "We listen."

They started walking toward the vehicle together, cautious but no longer braced for immediate violence.

As they got closer, Reva glanced up at the layered mass of metal, lights still glowing along its sides. "That’s not a ship," she said. "That’s a moving neighborhood."

Jareth smirked. "Watch."

He raised two fingers and snapped them once.

"Do it."

His people moved immediately.

Panels along the vehicle’s sides disengaged, seams lighting up as internal locks released. The long body split down precise lines, sections sliding outward instead of apart. Wheels folded inward, van frames rotating and compressing as structural arms extended from beneath. Smaller support vehicles that had been parked nearby rolled forward and locked into the main body, magnetized clamps snapping them into place with heavy force.

The ground vibrated as the entire structure shifted.

What had looked like a welded mess of transport vans reconfigured itself into something entirely different. The outer shell tightened, plates overlapping and sealing until windows vanished and hull geometry took over. The central mass rose, forming a broad, flattened spine, while the ends pulled upward into angled wings reinforced with thruster banks and lift nodes.

The lights changed, settling into clean lines that traced the ship’s silhouette instead of flooding the ground.

By the time it finished moving, it no longer looked like something that belonged on a road.

It hovered a few feet off the ground, shaped like a blunt manta with armored ridges along its back and a ventral bay that opened smoothly at the center. The engines didn’t scream. They hummed with contained force, the sound of something designed to lift weight without asking permission.

Lyra stared, mouth slightly open.

Requiem let out a low breath. "That’s illegal."

Jareth grinned. "On a lot of levels."

Reva looked at the ship, then back at Jareth. "You could’ve mentioned that part earlier."

"Where’s the fun in that?" Jareth replied. "Welcome aboard."