Lightning Destroyer: (Lighting Seeker Book 3)

Save and Rule

Dash found himself itching to move. To be useful in some way. But half of his body was numb, an apparent side effect of having more metal than skin stretched across his body and medication that had yet to wear off. He felt off-balance and less human than he would ever wish to be.

He wasn't allowed to do much, which left Dash with far more time to think than was healthy for someone who was battling an empire, had been erased from the girl he loves mind and was hundreds of miles away from his cousin who was struggling to live. Overall, thinking was the last thing he wanted.

And in a strange turn of events, Mortem had taken on the role of the Healer, leaving Kriss to work with Midnight on next stage plans, while Dash was left alone under Mortem's somewhat unreliable gaze.

Dash had patched up Mortem enough times to know that his ex-patient was enjoying having the power. A power that seemed to have followed Dash as the crew landed on Dash's old ship, the Ignis. 

Dash avoided his crew's greetings as he slipped up to his office, yanking down the long-sleeved tunic he wore to cover his new metal addition. The leather glove that stretched across his fingers hid the metal, but it felt like a lie. 

He now wore Vale's hand. Something that felt wrong. The metal was a beacon of hope, of rebellion, meant for a fighter. And Dash was none of those things. He worked behind the scenes, in the shadows saving lives. 

I'm not meant for this responsibility. I'll just hold onto it until Vale comes back. Then I'll find a way to return it to her.

Dash collapsed in the chair behind his desk, running his skin hand through his hair, other hand balled in a fist on his desk. 

"Ye need to stop hidin'," Mortem said from the doorway. 

Dash ignored him and instead turned to focus on the paperwork on his desk. He had been away from his ship for too long. The hospital ship ran well, but could only survive so long without it's captain. 

"Did you want something?" Dash asked, avoiding eye contact with Mortem. "I have a meeting in a few minutes and I'd like to prepare."

"We 'ave a meetin'," Mortem corrected. "And ye are actin' like a child. We can't afford to 'ave you loosin' yer sanity over a small addition."

"A SMALL ADDITION?!?" Dash said jumping to his feet, voice louder than he intended. Papers slid off the desk, fluttering around the room, slashing white across the grey walls, glistening with light from the back wall made entirely of glass. 

"My arm is gone!" Dash shouted, rage and frustration making it hard to breathe. "And now I have to relearn how to move with this new... thing!" 

Dash glanced at Mortem, face filled with fear. "What if I can't do my job? What if I can't help people Mortem!?!" 

Mortem stayed silent, watching Dash, his face unreadable as he leaned against the door he had come through. 

"We can't afford to have unreliable leaders. And I am unreliable." 

Mortem scoffed, walking forward and placing a hand on Dash's shoulder. "Do ye think I am unreliable?" 

Dash sighed. "Unpredictable yes. Not unreliable." 

"I am more machine than ye at this point. It doesn't make me less human. It comes with the job of survivin' death enough times. But it makes me appreciate every second chance I've 'ad to live." Mortem gave Dash's shoulder a squeeze. 

"It's okay to grieve the parts of you that are gone. But don't 'ate the second chances that the mech gives ye. I will still put my trust in ye. Just as you do with me every single time you get on me ship."