Chapter 22

Crystal lay still on her bed, exhausted from the emotional turmoil she had just endured. The weight of Lincoln's turbulent memories lingered within her, tugging at the strings of her heart.

Before Lincoln passed out in his 'present' timeline, an evocative image seared itself into his mind. It was the sight of someone's head falling into his arms. Crystal, now understanding the metaphorical nature of this haunting image, realized that it came from Lincoln's guilt and self-blame for Destry's death.

Her eyelids drooped as she surrendered to the darkness, allowing its silent embrace to consume her. With each passing moment, her mind began to wander freely, seeking solace in the depths of her consciousness.

In this ethereal realm of thoughts and memories, Crystal delved deeper as she attempted to synchronize with Lincoln's memories. She needed to explore the fragments of his past that were leftover. As the room dissolved into obscurity as she found herself transported to a different plane, a stark facility bathed in sterile, fluorescent light.

Before her, an orderly row of nearly fifty bodies lay in somber repose, shrouded in worn, white sheets, bearing the weight of war.

Unfazed by the solemnity that hung heavy in the air, Crystal stood beside one of the bodies, her eyes fixed upon it with apprehension. Slowly, she knelt down, her hands trembling as she reached out to uncover the face concealed beneath the weathered cloth. In one swift motion, she pulled back the veil, and her breath caught in her throat.

It was not her own gasp that escaped her lips; it was Lincoln's. The floodgates of his guilt opened wide as a torrent of tears streamed down his anguished face. Before him lay the lifeless head of Destry, severed from his body with a chilling precision. The once-vibrant countenance now carried the marks of tragedy, a haunting testament to the cruelty of fate. Wires protruded from the base of the severed head and the exposed neck of the decapitated body.

He gently caressed Destry's hair, his mind overwhelmed with the weight of it all.

"Lincoln," a voice called out, breaking through the chaos reverberating through the facility. The clamor of cries, the shuffling of stretchers and the barked orders flooded his senses. He pivoted to confront Damian, the commanding officer of the Canadian military. "We need to talk."

Nestled within the army camp, Damian's temporary office resided inside a modest tent, one among the many scattered across the encampment. Its size was unremarkable, conforming to the standard dimensions of a typical tent. Stepping inside, it revealed a surprisingly familiar ambiance, reminiscent of a well-appointed bedroom.

Damian seated resolutely behind his sturdy desk which bore the marks of diligent use, with stacks of documents neatly organized, a scattering of pens and papers, and a strategically placed laptop. Meanwhile, Lincoln stood upright, his presence emanating a mixture of anticipation and uncertainty, positioned respectfully before Damian's desk, awaiting the forthcoming conversation.

The weariness etched across Damian's face was evident, his once-tidy dark brown hair now disheveled, falling across his forehead in disarray. His eyes, usually alert and sharp, appeared heavy-lidded and fatigued, betraying the strain he had endured.

"You were the one who made them surrender, weren't you?" Damian's words pierced the air, causing Lincoln's breath to catch in his throat. Lincoln's eyes met Damian's intense gaze as he tried to gather himself. It was all Damian needed to confirm.

"I've seen you train," Damian continued, his voice laced with a mix of admiration and suspicion. "You've got experience, but from somewhere else. You're not new to this, are you? War, I mean." Lincoln remained silent, unable to find the right words to respond.

"You seemed like you had a plan from before we even started," Damian pressed on, his voice tinged with frustration. Lincoln's guilt began to seep into his veins, like a heavy burden he couldn't shake off.

The weight of Damian's next words crushed Lincoln's already heavy heart. "If we had one more person in the sky, we wouldn't have lost so many lives. You saved us, yes. But if you were honest with your intentions from the beginning, then maybe we would have had an improvised plan to suit yours. If you did that, perhaps Destry would still be alive. We didn't select you and give you all these advanced tools just so you can have it your way."

Guilt washed over Lincoln in an overwhelming wave, consuming him from within. The words hung in the air like an accusation he couldn't refute. He had kept his plan hidden, believing it was for the best, but now he saw the devastating consequences of his silence. The weight of the lives lost, including Destry's, settled heavily on his shoulders.

Faced with this devastating aftermath, Lincoln questioned if he had made the right choices.

"I also know that with mere experience and advanced technology, performing a feat like you did is near impossible," Damian acknowledged, his voice filled with curiosity. "I know there's more to it. I know you were not just lucky. But I won't force you to tell me, and I won't tell people about what you did. But if you're willing to tell me how you did it, then I'll keep that a secret too."

Lincoln's eyes flickered with a glimmer of surprise, mingled with gratitude, as he absorbed Damian's words. He had expected anger or resentment, but Damian's willingness to understand and respect his silence touched him deeply.

"What you accomplished out there can win us many battles and many wars," Damian continued, his tone softening. "But what you did today was unacceptable and to some unforgivable. You saved us all and you won us the war but at the cost of over fifty families never getting to see their son's, father's or husband's face again. You could've done this better, and you should know that."

Damian's words struck Lincoln's heart, puncturing through the armor of his guilt. He couldn't deny the truth in Damian's words. The reckless choices he had made in the heat of the battle had been born out of desperation, a desperate desire to end it at any cost. He realized now that there had been a better way, a more strategic approach that could have achieved their goals without such devastating consequences. But Lincoln felt it was too late.

"But we learn. We keep learning," Damian added, his voice resolute. "That's how we are. That's how I was."

Lincoln's hand absent-mindedly scratched his head as a conflicted expression crossed his face. The weight of his secret burdened him, and he knew he had to confide in Damian. With a deep breath, he began to reveal the truth about his ability.

He explained to Damian how he had acquired these powers when he was abducted and taken to a facility in Germany. Lincoln recounted the experiments he had endured, that had granted him abilities beyond human comprehension. He described how the process took him four years and he then used the powers to escape the facility a year after that.

As he shared his story, Lincoln couldn't help but feel a mixture of vulnerability and determination. He spoke of his plan to one day return to that facility in Germany, to settle the unfinished business. He wanted answers to how he ended up like this.

Damian listened intently, his eyes filled with a mixture of surprise and concern. "Can you show me?" He asked, referring to Lincoln's ability.

Damian's request hung in the air, his anticipation palpable. Lincoln took a deep breath, his focus shifting inward as he summoned the power within him. Energy surged through his veins, tingling with an otherworldly intensity.

Crimson energy erupted from Lincoln's core, enveloping his entire body. The room was bathed in an ethereal glow, as if it had been infused with the essence of power itself. The vibrant energy danced and swirled around Lincoln, casting a mesmerizing spectacle.

Damian watched in awe as he witnessed the mesmerizing display of Lincoln's powers. The room filled with an ethereal glow, illuminating their surroundings. A sense of wonder and acceptance washed over Damian, dispelling any lingering doubts.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Damian spoke with a newfound sense of conviction. "Lincoln, I want to become the general," he confided, his voice filled with determination. The weight of his aspirations and the responsibility he sought to undertake were evident in his words.

Lincoln's eyes widened in surprise, the residual energy dissipating into flickering crimson particles around him. "Sir, what do you mean?" he asked, his voice tinged with curiosity and anticipation.

"I want to reclaim all of Canada's land," Damian declared, his voice unwavering. "I don't care about taking over other countries or expanding our territory. All I want is peace for our country, for our people."

Lincoln's astonishment grew as he absorbed the magnitude of Damian's vision. The sincerity in Damian's words resonated with him, igniting a spark of hope within his own heart. "But sir... that's a big task," Lincoln said, his voice filled with a mix of awe and uncertainty. "It would mean going to war with numerous countries, making enemies and even seeking allies to protect our interests. It could take years, sir, even a decade."

Damian nodded solemnly, fully aware of the challenges that lay ahead. "Yes, it won't be easy. We'll face opposition and obstacles at every step," he admitted. "But I'm determined to see it through. I want to create a future where Canada can thrive, where our people can live in peace and security."

A mix of emotions swirled within Lincoln's chest, his gratitude for finding someone as ambitious as him washed over him. Someone who shared his burning desire to bring about a change. In that moment, the weight of their shared aspirations and the strength of their connection overwhelmed him.

As his hand brushed against the stone in his pocket, a familiar warmth radiated from it. But in this moment of unity and shared purpose, he paid no heed to the stone's presence.

Taking a deep breath, Lincoln locked eyes with Damian, their shared determination mirroring one another. "I'm with you, sir," he declared, conviction ringing in his voice. "I'll stand by your side, and together, we'll work towards a better future for our home."

In that moment, their alliance solidified, and they knew that their path would be fraught with challenges and sacrifices. But fueled by their shared vision and determination, they were ready to embark on this arduous journey, committed to doing whatever it took to see Canada's dreams of peace and sovereignty come to fruition.

Damian's sharp eyes caught the glowing red emanating from Lincoln's pocket, drawing his attention to the strange phenomenon. Curiosity piqued and he couldn't help but inquire about its significance. "What's in your pocket?" Damian asked, his voice laced with intrigue.

Lincoln, taken aback by Damian's observation, momentarily hesitated before retrieving the stone from his pocket. He examined it for a brief moment before offering an explanation. "It's just a stone I found in a cave over five years ago," Lincoln replied, his tone tinged with a hint of mystery. "I don't know why, but I felt compelled to keep it all this time, even though I don't fully understand its purpose or significance."

Lincoln's explanation caught Crystal's attention, who had been observing from a distance. She noticed that Mod Cytron had already been using it's magic from the moment Lincoln found it. It cleverly concealed its presence from others and even influenced Lincoln to keep it close without questioning it. "For so many years..." Crystal whispered to herself.

"I named it Garnet." Lincoln added and Crystal's eyes widened in shock. She involuntarily gasped, her hand instinctively clutching her chest. How could this be? Garnet... the stone they had within their grasp all along? The realization struck her like a lightning bolt, electrifying the air with a mix of awe and trepidation.

All this time, Crystal had simply accepted the stone's appearance without question. It had seemed smaller, insignificant, and nothing like the magnificent gemstone that Lincoln had carried around. But now, as the truth unraveled before her, she couldn't help but wonder, had it been fooling them all along? Had its true nature been concealed it's magic?

Crystal's gasp escaped her lips once more."Could it be that we were under the influence of the same magic it used on Lincoln so many years ago?" she whispered, her voice tinged with a mix of revelation and unease. The realization hit her like a torrent of emotions, the pieces of the puzzle finally falling into place.

The thought sent shivers down Crystal's spine, her mind racing to grasp the implications of what Lincoln had just confessed. If the stone had indeed hidden its magic, then how deep did its power truly run? And if they had been oblivious to its true identity, what other secrets might it still hold? The very foundations of their understanding were crumbling beneath the weight of this revelation.

"Will I forget once I wake up?" Crystal's apprehension deepened, her voice trembling as she voiced her unsettling thoughts. "Or was I meant to know only now?" Her words hung in the air, laden with a mix of fear and uncertainty.

The questions swirled within Crystal's mind, a whirlwind of doubt and curiosity, and she found no solace in the absence of answers. The weight of the unknown bore down upon her, like a heavy shroud threatening to suffocate her understanding.

However, before Crystal could delve further into her spiraling thoughts, Damian's voice cut through the silence, brimming with resolve. His determination echoed through the room, commanding attention. "Very well," he declared, his tone infused with purpose. "Let's finish up with everything here and prepare to return home."

As Crystal watched Damian and Lincoln exit the room, a mixture of emotions swirled within her. The weight of their conversation lingered, its impact still reverberating through her thoughts. She took a deep breath, attempting to steady herself before disengaging from the memory and returning to the confines of her darkened room.

The realization hit her with a mix of relief and curiosity. She had successfully navigated the realms of Lincoln's memories on her own. She sighed in relief and silently acknowledged Destry's assistance.

However, as Crystal settled back into the present, a nagging frustration gnawed at her. She hadn't forgotten what she had witnessed within the memory. It dawned on her that this discovery had been deliberately timed for her to find out now.

Was this a test? To see if Crystal was worthy enough to come this far?

A mix of exasperation and curiosity washed over Crystal as she rubbed her temples, attempting to alleviate the tension that throbbed in her head. The missing piece they had sought so desperately had been within their reach all along but it had remained hidden, veiled in illusions, a secret they were not permitted to know until now.

The realization left Crystal with a profound sense of injustice. How many struggles and setbacks could have been avoided if they had been aware of the stone's true identity? It was a bitter pill to swallow, knowing that fate had played its hand, keeping them in the dark until the opportune moment.

Resolute, Crystal pushed herself off the bed, the frustration fueling her determination. Destry's words played in her head as she walked towards the door. They may have been denied the truth until now, but she wouldn't let it deter her. They had come too far, fought too hard, to let this setback dampen their spirits.

It was time to talk to her team.