The next day, Lena stood before her war table, the map of the galaxy spread out before her. The plans for their next strike against the Rhytil were already in motion, and yet, she felt paralyzed by the weight of it all. The core had once been her greatest strength, but now it felt like a chain that bound her to an identity she wasn't sure she recognized anymore.
Every decision she made now was filtered through the core's influence, and the pressure was becoming unbearable. There were moments when she could hear the core calling to her, offering power in exchange for more of her soul. It was so easy to give in, to use the core's power to crush her enemies. But every time she did, the feeling of loss grew stronger, the knowledge that she was slipping further from her humanity.
She felt the eyes of the alliance leaders on her, felt their expectations, their hopes that she would lead them to victory. They didn't know the truth of what she was going through. They couldn't see the cracks in her resolve, the way the core was slowly taking everything from her.
"I can't do this anymore," Lena whispered to herself, barely able to hear her own words over the noise of the war room. "I don't know how much of me is left."
Elias's words echoed in her mind, but even as she held onto them, doubt gnawed at her. Could she really continue leading when she felt so broken? Could she continue using the core to fight the Rhytil when every use of it felt like a step further into the abyss?