Chapter 128: The Return to Valeris

The battle for Ettemakse had ended, but the war was far from over. The journey back to Valeris City carried with it the weight of sacrifice and the flickering hope of a fragile victory.

The convoy of armored vehicles and dropships broke through the clouded Kynaran skies, gliding over Valeris' sprawling cityscape. From the cockpit of the lead dropship, Ethan stared down at the city. Its glittering lights and bustling streets a stark contrast to the smoldering ruins of Ettemakse they had just left behind.

The dropships touched down in the main hangar of the Federation guard's central outpost. The sight of Federation guards, Resistance fighters, and guild staff awaiting their arrival was a bittersweet moment. Some waved with visible relief, but their smiles faltered at the sight of the battered convoy.

Ethan stepped out first, his boots hitting the metallic hangar floor with a weight that matched his mood. Around him, medics rushed forward to tend to the wounded, carrying stretchers and barking orders. The coalition's surviving fighters, scarred, bloodied, but alive descended from the vehicles, their expressions a mix of exhaustion and determination.

He couldn't help but contrast the scene with what they'd left behind in Ettemakse: collapsed buildings, displaced civilians, and the lingering echoes of Syndicate forces. The victory there felt hollow when compared to the bustling life of Valeris. A sharp reminder of what was at stake should they fail to stop Drakor.

The journey back to Valeris had been a quiet one. The hum of the dropship engines provided a somber backdrop as the team sat in silence. Ethan sat near a window, his gaze fixed on the barren landscapes below.

Images of Ettemakse's devastation flashed in his mind: the flames that engulfed the city, the lifeless bodies of civilians caught in the crossfire, and Raeth's taunting voice echoing in the ruins. He clenched his fists as the memory of his duel with Raeth replayed. The warlord's cryptic warning about Drakor's benefactor lingered like a splinter in his thoughts.

Despite the victory, guilt gnawed at him. He replayed the decisions he had made, wondering if he could have done more to prevent the coalition's losses.

Across from him, Zyrix was meticulously cleaning his sniper rifle, his sharp eyes scanning the team as if mentally taking stock of who they had left. Eliara sat next to Ethan, her usual smile absent as she fiddled with her tactical gauntlet. The silence was heavy, but it was a silence of understanding. No words were needed, they had all felt the cost of the battle.

Back in Valeris, Ethan retreated to the familiar confines of his ship docked in the central hangar. The vessel, which still hadn't been fully repaired yet, had become more of a sanctuary for him since his arrival in this universe. He sat in the dimly lit cabin, the hum of the ship's systems a comforting constant.

In front of him lay the molecular dagger, its intricate carvings glowing faintly under the soft cabin lights. Ethan picked it up, feeling the cold weight of its blade. The weapon's mystery eluded him, yet he couldn't shake the feeling that it was connected to something greater. He closed his eyes, attempting to meditate and connect with the latent psychic powers that had saved him in Ettemakse and numerous other battles.

The images came sporadically: flashes of fire, the ruins of an ancient civilization, and a sense of impending chaos. He opened his eyes, his breathing steady but his mind restless.

Later that evening, Zyrix and Eliara pulled him away from the solitude of his ship. "You've been in your head too much," Eliara said with a teasing grin. "Come on, Nara's Nest is calling."

The three of them gathered in the newly renovated cantina, its vibrant atmosphere a sharp contrast to their grim expressions. Over drinks, they recounted moments from the battle of Ettemakse.

"Do you remember when that drone nearly took my head off?" Eliara said, grinning despite the fatigue etched on her face. "I swear, Zyrix, you waited until the last possible second to take that shot."

"It wasn't the last second," Zyrix replied with a rare smile. "I had a full half-second to spare."

For a brief moment, the weight of the war lifted. They laughed, shared stories, and allowed themselves to feel human again.

The reprieve didn't last long. Immediately after returning from his little outing, Ethan sat at his workstation aboard the ship, reviewing the reports Iris had compiled.

"Casualties were high," Iris said in her steady, mechanical tone. "Thirty percent of Resistance fighters and twenty-two percent of Federation guards were either killed or severely injured during the Ettemakse operation."

Ethan grimaced as he read through the names of the fallen. He paused at the name of a young Resistance fighter who had helped him during a previous battle against Kaelus Ryn, a sacrifice he wouldn't forget.

"On the positive side," Iris continued, "the mission objectives were achieved. Raeth and Vela Drasik have been eliminated, and Ettemakse is secure for now. Reconstruction efforts are underway, with Federation guards and Resistance fighters maintaining order."

Ethan leaned back in his chair, his gaze drifting to the holographic map of Kynara projected on the workstation. The northern stronghold glowed ominously in red.

Beside the map lay the molecular dagger, its faint glow a silent reminder of the challenges ahead. Ethan reached out, his fingers brushing the weapon's surface.

"One last war," he muttered, his voice steady with determination.

The dagger's glow brightened briefly, as if responding to his resolve. Ethan's reflection stared back at him in the holographic display, an ordinary man re-shaped by battles, losses, mysteries and the weight of leadership.

The fight wasn't over, not yet.