Chapter 148: Awakening in Valeris

Darkness.

Weightless. Boundless. Silent.

Ethan drifted through an endless void, suspended between consciousness and oblivion. Time held no meaning here, had it been seconds? Days? A lifetime? A whisper, distant yet insistent, echoed in the depths of his mind. Wake up.

At first, he resisted. His body was numb, his thoughts sluggish, as if buried under a mountain of exhaustion. But the voice grew stronger, urgent.

Wake up, Ethan.

A sudden jolt.

His body convulsed, sensation flooding back in a crashing wave—pain, heat, aching muscles, the dull throb of a heart struggling to regain its rhythm. A ragged breath tore from his throat. His eyelids fluttered, struggling against the weight of who know how long—of unconsciousness.

He inhaled, the scent of antiseptic and sterilized air filling his nostrils. His ears registered the distant hum of medical machinery, the soft beeping of monitors tracking his vitals. His fingers twitched, his limbs heavy as stone.

Then, voices.

At first, mere murmurs at the edges of his perception. But as clarity returned, they sharpened into hushed, urgent tones.

"He's awake!"

Footsteps. A rustle of movement. The room brightened slightly, sterile white lights adjusting automatically as a team of medics hurried toward him. Blurred figures loomed over him, their expressions shifting between shock and relief.

"Ethan, can you hear me?" a voice called. Firm yet calm. Familiar.

He tried to respond, but his throat was dry, his lips cracked. He barely managed a hoarse exhale. A cool hand pressed against his forehead, and a scanner hovered just above his chest, emitting a soft hum as it analyzed his condition.

"Vitals stabilizing," someone reported. "Cognitive response is slow but present."

A figure stepped forward, framed by the dim glow of diagnostic screens. Secretary Kael. His silver-trimmed uniform was immaculate, but the faint crease on his brow betrayed his concern.

"You gave us quite the scare," Kael said, his sharp eyes studying Ethan with an intensity that suggested he'd been here for a while, waiting. "We almost lost you."

Ethan swallowed, his throat raw. He shifted slightly, testing the limits of his own body. Everything hurt, a deep, aching pain that seeped into his very bones, like the aftershock of a battle fought far beyond human limits.

His mind flickered back to the last thing he remembered.

Drakor Krenna. The fight. The monstrous transformation. The mysterious old man's sudden appearance. A fleeting figure cloaked in an aura of mystery.

The Astral Slayer, its presence like a storm raging inside him.

And then, that voice. Ethereal, whispering through the dagger's hilt, just before everything had gone black.

His fingers twitched involuntarily. Where was it? Where was the dagger?

"My… weapon…" His voice was barely more than a whisper, hoarse and strained. "The… dagger…"

Kael's expression softened slightly, and he gestured toward one of the medics. "It's safe. Your belongings were recovered from the battlefield."

Ethan exhaled, a knot in his chest loosening. But the unease didn't fade. He had wielded power beyond anything he had ever known in that fight. What had happened to him in those final moments?

His thoughts scattered as the medical team resumed their work.

Cool, sterilized air brushed against his skin as he was carefully shifted onto a specialized scanning bed. A soft golden glow pulsed from the diagnostic machine above him, sweeping over his body in methodical waves. Holographic projections flickered to life, displaying detailed readouts of his physical and neurological state.

He closed his eyes, exhaling sharply as the scan delved deeper. The sensation was oddly soothing, the warmth of the regenerative waves easing some of the lingering strain in his muscles.

"You were in a deep coma for five days," Kael explained. "Your neural activity was so weak at one point that we weren't sure you would wake up at all."

Five days? Ethan's brow furrowed. He had been unconscious for that long?

Kael continued, arms crossed as he studied the scan results. "Your body underwent severe physical and mental overstrain. Every major muscle group suffered some level of micro-tearing. Your nervous system showed signs of overload, likely from the overwhelming psychic power's influence."

Ethan frowned. "I… overdid it," he admitted.

"That's an understatement," Kael remarked dryly. He gestured toward the hovering display of Ethan's nervous system. "Most soldiers who push themselves way beyond their limits go into cardiac arrest. Your vitals slowed to the point where your pulse was almost undetectable." He glanced at Ethan. "If we hadn't rushed for you when we did, you might not have come back at all."

Ethan remained silent. He wasn't sure how to respond to that.

The medical staff whispered among themselves as the scan finalized its report. He caught snippets of their words.

"—shouldn't even be alive…"

"—faced that monster Drakor Krenna alone…"

"—a miracle he's awake at all…"

"—harbinger of death…"

He exhaled, shaking his head slightly. They were looking at him like he was something more than human.

He wasn't. He had just been desperate.

The scan beeped, signaling completion. The head physician turned to Kael. "The medical equipment here is slightly outdated but there are no permanent injuries. His body is weak, but nothing that proper recovery won't fix."

Kael nodded. "Good." He turned back to Ethan. "You'll need more rest before you're fully functional again. No exertion. No reckless heroics."

Ethan gave him a tired smirk. "No promises."

Kael sighed, but there was a ghost of amusement in his expression.

As the medical staff finished their checks, Ethan finally took a moment to absorb the reality of what Kael had said earlier.

The war was over. The Black Sun Syndicate was broken.

It felt… surreal. For months after arriving on Kynara, he had fought, bled, sacrificed everything for this war. And now, in the blink of an eye, it was done.

His gaze drifted toward Kael. "What… happened after?"

Kael studied him for a moment, then nodded. "Darrik will brief you soon. But in short, the coalition quickly swept the battlefield, eliminating the few remnants of the Black Sun's forces who had survived your psychic wave. The Stronghold and what was inside were completely disintegrated by your psychic wave. They've left a few coalition troops to properly clean up the battlefield, making sure there are no lingering threats. The mercenaries and Federation Guard returned to Valeris, while Marik Vos led some of the uninjured resistance temporarily back to their hidden headquarters. The injured from both the resistance, the mercenaries, and Federation Guard were transported to Ettemakse and Valeris for treatment. As for the fallen, the coalition bodies were collected and transported for proper burial, while the syndicate's cybernetically augmented beasts and soldiers were incinerated to avoid the spread of disease."

Ethan exhaled slowly, testing the weight of his limbs. His muscles felt like they had been forged from lead, stiff and uncooperative, but the deep ache gnawing at his body was nothing new. He had fought through worse. With a grunt, he braced his palms against the cot, forcing his arms to bear his weight as he tried to sit up. His breath hitched, his ribs protested, fire lancing through his core, but he clenched his teeth and pushed through.

The room swayed. His vision blurred for a second, a dizzying rush of vertigo threatening to pull him back down. He barely had time to register the movement before a firm hand clamped onto his shoulder, pressing him back against the mattress with an unyielding grip.

"Don't," Kael warned, his voice carrying the weight of command. "You're not ready."

Ethan swallowed hard, blinking away the stars in his vision. His body clearly agreed with Kael, but his mind rebelled against the idea of lying here, useless, while the world moved on without him. "I just need-" he started, but Kael cut him off.

Kael sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose before fixing Ethan with a firm stare. "Look, you've been unconscious for five days, and your body's barely holding together as it is. You need rest, Ethan. Proper rest. Darrik will fill you in on the finer details when you're in better shape to process everything, but for now, just focus on recovering." His tone softened slightly, though there was no mistaking the authority behind it. "You don't have to carry the weight of this war alone anymore. It's over. For now, at least. So take the time to let your body heal before you start looking for the next task."