Chapter 52 | Ghosts

"Let's take a break," Leon said.

He nodded to Mason, who planted his shield into the mud with a heavy thunk and sat down beside it.

Talia, Lena, Nicko, and Varen gathered around, forming a loose circle. One by one, they pulled out their ration packs in silence.

Leon and Mason had come across them nearly an hour ago, worn down but still moving.

Leon looked over at Nicko. "How's your arm?"

Nicko moved his right slightly, then let it drop. "It's numb. Can't really feel it anymore."

"Want help with that?" Lena asked, nodding toward his unopened pack.

Nicko gave a short nod, and she carefully peeled the wrapper off the protein cube and handed it to him.

"Thanks, Lena."

"You shouldn't be thanking me," she said, her voice barely audible. "I should be thanking you. If you hadn't pushed me out of the way…"

Leon glanced between them, then around at the others.

Kara's still missing.

Her vital signs appeared lost, but it could simply mean she was out of range.

His thoughts slipped again. 

To Malric's gurgle, the crack of bones, the silence that followed. The blood on his hands. The red speckles still clinging to his visor.

He blinked it away and forced his attention back to the present.

Focus.

He brought up the map. They had reached the target; a small clearing surrounded by the dense spires of Blackthorn Wilds.

He looked up at the night sky. The stars were the same ones he had stared at with Nyra.

But tonight, they looked dimmer.

"So what's the plan?" Mason asked. "Wait here?"

Leon shook his head. "No. If we stay, we won't make it back in time. Kara might've already gone to the extraction point without finishing the objective."

The others kept eating in silence.

They rested for two hours. During that time, Leon kept glancing toward the treeline, waiting for Kara to appear. She never did.

"Let's go," Leon said.

The vora stood without protest, falling in behind him and Mason. No one asked about Malric or Ravi. No one spoke of Malco. Kara's name came up once, and only in hushed words between Mason and Leon.

They moved through the forest with caution. A few stray Blackthorn Hounds crossed their path, never more than two or three at a time, but each encounter drained their strength further. The skirmishes left them breathless and bloodied.

Varen took a bite to the leg during one of the clashes. He limped now, leaning on Talia for support. Thankfully, they hadn't run into any more Dire Hounds.

"Maybe those bastards scared off the smaller ones," Mason muttered.

"Would make sense," Leon replied. "They're territorial." He glanced back at the vora. "How's everyone holding up?"

"Varen needs to rest," Lena said.

"I'm fine," Varen insisted, even as he clutched his thigh and leaned heavily against Talia. "I can keep going."

Leon turned to Nicko. "You?"

"Still numb, so it's not bothering me."

Leon gave a short nod and turned forward again.

Two hours later, they broke through the last of the trees and stepped out of Blackthorn Wilds. The sun had yet to rise, but the open expanse of the Blister Plains stretched before them—a bleak, barren landscape, yet somehow comforting after the horrors of the forest.

Leon scanned the area. Kara's still not here.

He pulled up the map on his HUD to confirm they were at the correct extraction point.

"Send extraction request," he muttered to the onboard AI, too tired to do it manually.

A few seconds passed.

Request sent. ETA: pending.

Leon turned to the others. "It's sent."

They dropped their gear and slumped against the trees lining the forest's edge. No one spoke.

Ten slow minutes passed. Faint streaks of orange began to spread across the horizon, dawn, finally breaking. To Leon, the light looked distant, almost unreal. Like it belonged to a world far removed from the one they had just crawled out of.

He glanced at the others. They sat quietly, their faces hidden behind helmets, but their stillness told him enough. Exhausted. Wounded. Watching the sunrise as if unsure whether it was real.

Then came the low, familiar hum of mana engines.

He looked up and saw the Orbital Carrier descending from above, its silhouette growing larger until it touched down with a gentle thud.

Ramps extended and a crewmember stood at the base, motioning them in.

Leon stood and helped Talia lift Varen to his feet. One by one, his vora boarded.

He lingered at the edge, staring back into Blackthorn Wilds. The forest loomed in shadow, its twisted trees unmoving, indifferent. 

Something had stayed behind. Some part of him buried in the silence and the blood.

A line he crossed and the weight he would carry.

Mason waited for him at the bottom of the ramp, hand outstretched.

Leon took one last look at the Wilds, then turned and walked toward the ramp. His body moved on instinct, but something in him unraveled, thread by thread dragging the ghosts with him.

The Orbital Carrier made several stops, collecting others along the way. Leon saw he wasn't the only one who had been through hell. Some voras had lost even more.

Armor smeared with blood filled the cabin.

Fifteen minutes later, they descended onto Fort Ferros.

Leon stepped off the ramp as the sun crested the horizon, casting a soft amber glow across the parking area. It might've been beautiful, if not for the chaos unfolding beneath it.

Hundreds of recruits poured out of their carriers; many stumbled, limped, and leaned on each other. Most were soaked in blood. Some screamed as medics hauled them off on stretchers. Medical staff sprinted from group to group, shouting orders with gloves already stained red.

Above, more carriers roared overhead. Some touched down, others lifted off the moment they emptied their cargo.

"Come on," Mason muttered, nudging him. "Instructor Zell is waiting for us."

Leon blinked and looked toward the field, where the instructor stood in his usual gray uniform. The same one he wore during their lectures.

Leon walked forward, his vora falling in behind him. He stopped in front, snapped to attention, and brought his fist to his chest.

"Sir. Assessment complete. Three confirmed KIA. One MIA," he said. His voice wavered, and he swallowed the lump rising in his throat.

Zell's eyes swept over Vora Ten. 

"At ease," he said. "Three days R&R. Rankings will be posted after. Dismissed."

He turned without another word, already moving to meet Vora Three as they staggered in.

Leon looked down at his hands. A faint smear of dried blood clung to his fingers, but to him, it looked fresh, still warm, and still wet.

Mason bumped his shoulder. "Come on. Let's get some rest."

Leon gave a small nod.

"Nicko. Varen. Go see a medic first," he said, seeing them heading to their quarters.

They groaned with exhaustion. Talia changed direction, still supporting Varen, with Nicko following behind.

Leon turned and followed Mason.

They walked in silence. The world around him blurred—figures, buildings, voices—all fading into white noise. He reached his room without realizing how, stood in the doorway, and stared.

It felt like he hadn't been there in years.

Leon stepped into the shower and turned the water on. He couldn't feel it through his armor, but as he looked down, he saw all the dried blood mixing with the water.

His breath caught. Then quickened.

He pulled off his helmet. Cold water hit him, giving him a moment of peace. 

But that peace lasted only a second. 

As the tension from leading his vora, the tension from fighting to survive, washed away—something broke.

Malric's scream echoed in his mind. The resistance of bone and flesh as the sword went in.

The pressure, the weight, the guilt. It all snapped.

Leon dropped to his knees and vomited, the sound echoing against the tiled walls. He dry-heaved again and again, his body purging what his mind couldn't.

And still, he didn't feel clean.