The Strain of Power

Days passed, and the Alliance celebrated their victory over the Rhytil, but Lena's mind never truly left the battlefield. The core had become a constant companion, its whispers growing louder, its influence more insistent. Every time she closed her eyes, she could feel its power pulsing beneath her skin, a reminder that the core was always with her, always calling her to use it.

In the quiet of her quarters, Lena couldn't escape the pull of the core. She paced the floor, the weight of her decisions heavy on her chest. She thought about the people she had saved, the lives spared in the wake of the battle, but the sense of achievement felt hollow. The core had done that—it had made her decisions easier, made her victories possible. But at what price?

She ran her fingers through her hair, frustrated with herself. The battle had been won, but the war was far from over. The Rhytil would retaliate. There would be more bloodshed, more lives lost. And as long as she relied on the core, she couldn't help but wonder if she was becoming just like the alien invaders she fought to stop.

Lena dropped to her knees, clutching her head in her hands as the familiar, suffocating presence of the core filled her mind. She tried to push it away, but it was useless. The alien energy was part of her now, a parasite that she couldn't remove.

"Embrace your power, Lena," the core whispered, its voice smooth and velvety. "You are destined for greatness. You are more than human."

Lena shut her eyes, trying to block out the voice, but it was no use. It was inside her, whispering the same promises it had before. Greatness. Power. Control. The very things she had once rejected were now the things she craved.

But at what cost?