CHAPTER 154: CHAPTER 154 | PRELUDE TO EVERSONG

"Took you long enough," Dreilla remarked, her voice calm yet tinged with that usual sharpness she never bothered to hide.

She leaned casually against one of the tall poles erected by the Zeraf soldiers, its bright white glow spreading outward in a wide circle that cut through the darkness of the ruined street.

The illumination caught the edge of her cheekbones and armor, casting stark shadows across her face.

Her eyes flicked toward Jinn as he approached, unreadable, though her posture was loose in that typical mix of boredom and vigilance she carried.

"Sorry for ratting you out, man... but protocol’s protocol." Zynh spoke up next, his tone carrying a half-guilty lilt that didn’t fully match the faint grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

He gave a small shrug, one hand lifting in mock surrender while the other lazily tapped the side of his rifle.

His stance was casual, almost playful, though his eyes carried the flicker of relief that Jinn was still in one piece.

"It doesn’t matter," Jinn replied promptly, his boots crunching softly on the fractured ground as he closed the distance between them.

His tone was level, calm, and without any hint of irritation.

"The General would’ve known sooner or later anyway."

Gerahl’s deep voice followed, more direct, heavier than the rest.

His arms were folded tightly across his chest as he eyed Jinn.

"So what now? Did the General tell you anything? Punishment? Or did he just let you off?"

Jinn’s lone eye shifted over his shoulder, meeting Gerahl’s gaze briefly before returning forward.

His answer came sharp, clipped.

Nothing serious."

He paused only long enough to steady his stride before continuing, his tone firm and certain.

"I’ll be returning with the General for the upcoming Royal Assembly... and I’m guessing we’ll all be returning to the Empire."

"Hah! Finally!" Zynh’s reaction came instantly.

He pushed himself up from where he’d been sitting, his boots striking the ground with a loud step as he stood tall.

Energy seemed to surge through him at the mere mention of the Empire, his earlier casualness replaced by genuine excitement.

It had been exactly one year since Jinn and the rest of his squad were assigned under General Gaius, moving from battlefield to battlefield in unrelenting campaigns.

For Jinn, it had been a long, grueling year of restraint, the kind of command where his own preference to fight alone was stifled by the handpicked nature of his squad.

Venedix herself, alongside the recommendation of Troy, had decided this particular combination of warriors.

Each member was chosen with precision, not randomly

, each skill complementing the others in ways that forced Jinn to adapt—whether he liked it or not.

"So where will you be going once you’re back in the capital?" Dreilla asked after a pause.

Her tone was more curious than mocking, though a trace of her usual bluntness still cut through.

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she studied him, almost as though testing whether he would answer honestly.

"Rest," Jinn replied, his voice even, "then back to training."

"Figures," Dreilla scoffed softly, though her expression softened into a sigh as she looked away briefly.

"I guess this is it, for our sorry little band."

"Aww, you’re making me cry already!" Zynh said in mock exaggeration, bringing a hand to the corner of his eye as if wiping away tears.

His grin widened, but it didn’t mask the unease in his laugh.

"Be realistic," Gerahl interrupted, his voice cutting through Zynh’s theatrics.

His eyes were firm, his tone unwavering.

"This isn’t the end. I’m sure Venedix—and my older brother too—will find more use for this squad than wasting us on a single year of training with Gaius."

"He’s right," Jinn added without hesitation, his tone sharp as he cut into the conversation.

"Venedix will have more use for this group. Better that, than being stuck fighting these second-rate wars."

"Second-rate, huh..." Dreilla muttered, shaking her head subtly.

Her voice was low, her words almost meant for herself.

With a quiet exhale, she pushed off the pole she had been leaning against and strode toward Jinn.

Her boots tapped lightly against the stone as she closed the space between them, her expression unreadable.

She stopped just beside him, tilting her head slightly.

"We’ll be in contact with you," she said, her voice calm but firm.

"So do me a favor, Jinn—take a look at your datapad every once in a while, yeah?"

Without waiting for a response, she brushed past him, her cloak shifting slightly in the pale glow of the erected pole.

Zynh and Gerahl followed close behind, their footsteps heavy but steady.

Both glanced briefly at Jinn as they passed, silent but weighted looks exchanged before they too turned away, trailing after Dreilla.

Moments passed as their figures grew smaller, disappearing down one of the alleyways that bled into the ruined city streets.

*fwoooosh!

The silence they left behind clung to the air, heavy with the unspoken truth that even in reunion, paths would soon diverge.

Jinn remained still for a moment, his chest rising and falling in a measured rhythm.

hah...

Then he exhaled sharply, a quiet huff escaping him before his boots carried him forward once more.

The sound of his steps echoed faintly as he made his way deeper into the abandoned streets, the glow of erected poles guiding his path.

Darkness clung stubbornly to the edges of every corner, yet the sterile white light carved away just enough to reveal his way eastward.

.

.

.

Eventually, the street opened into a larger square—

and there it stood.

The portal.

It towered massively, stretching upward almost as high as the building Jinn had scaled earlier, though its width far surpassed it.

Its circular frame glowed with an unearthly brilliance, wide enough that even one of the Empire’s hulking battle machines could stride through without difficulty.

The sight was familiar to Jinn, enough that no awe crossed his face.

These were the very portals the Zeraf Empire had long relied upon, the gateways that allowed them to assault city after city, planet after planet in rapid succession.

And yet, for Jinn, the sight carried a far heavier meaning.

This was also the kind of portal he had first stepped through years ago during the brutal slave rituals, the very moment his chains had bound him to a life of war.

===

He then walked forward without hesitation, passing by several towering soldiers standing guard.

Their hulking forms shifted only slightly as their eyes followed him, brief glances recognizing who he was before they returned to their watch in silence.

Near the portal’s edge lay a covered resting zone.

Inside, Zeraf technicians, scientists, and medics moved with precise, disciplined rhythm.

Some tended to the wounded, carefully applying salves or stitching wounds and using healing eidra to finish it off.

Others hunched over terminals, their hands flying across keys as streams of data scrolled.

Scientists busied themselves with paperwork and charts, voices low as they exchanged notes.

It was a hive of activity, yet utterly efficient—each man and woman moving like part of a vast machine, every role turning the Empire’s war engine without pause.

Jinn then passed through the translucent barrier marking the area.

The moment he crossed, he felt it—

a soothing wave rippling through his body.

Each breath seemed to lighten his chest, each muscle unwinding slightly.

The fatigue of battle melted away, the sting of strain vanishing as healing eidra coursed subtly through him.

His body felt renewed, strength gradually restored with every inhalation.

Without a word, he made his way toward the medical bay, the quiet buzz of activity continuing all around him.

Spotting a vacant bed, he chose instead to lower himself onto a nearby chair.

The cold metal pressed against him, but the stillness it offered was enough.

He leaned back slightly, his lone eye steady as his fingers brushed against Fangeryth’s hilt.

For now, he would wait—wait for Rina and the General to arrive, so that together they could step into the portal.

Beyond it lay Juggernot, the Empire’s capital... and whatever awaited them in the looming Royal Assembly.

At that moment, as he sat in the quiet hum of the resting zone, Jinn’s thoughts drifted ahead.

He already knew what awaited him the instant he returned to the capital.

The path was laid out before him, tangled yet inevitable.

First, there was his master, Battlemaster Venedix—the one whose shadow still loomed over him no matter how far he marched.

Her expectations had always been high, sharpened by her merciless standards and belief that he would grow into something greater than himself.

Jinn could feel those expectations pressing against his chest like armor too heavy to remove.

She would demand answers, results, proof that her apprentice had not faltered.

Then there was Troy.

He would want the truth—about the campaign, about the choices Jinn had made, about the strange phenomenon he could barely explain.

The news would spread soon enough: Jinn had triggered Muradryn once again, that ancient, volatile force.

Even Jinn himself could not yet understand what sparked it, what caused it to awaken from the depths of his being.

He knew Troy would press him for answers he did not yet have.

And, of course, Akavi.

A royal princess of the Empire, her presence was impossible to ignore, her influence stretching like an unseen hand across everything he had become involved in.

The deal he had made with her still lingered in the back of his mind, its weight heavier now that he had grown stronger.

Promises made to royalty were never forgotten, nor easily dismissed.

She would hold him to it.

One by one, these names and faces lined themselves before him in his mind.

Venedix, Troy, Akavi. Mentor, ally, sovereign.

Each represented a trial in its own right, and each would shape the course of what was to come.

Jinn exhaled slowly, his lone eye narrowing as if to steel himself.

All of it would unfold once he returned.

And so, he resolved silently—

he must prepare.

Not only to face them, but to face the weight of the choices that had already begun to bind his future.