The city stretched before him, bathed in the soft glow of neon signs and flickering streetlights. The hum of engines, distant chatter, and the occasional burst of laughter filled the air, blending into the rhythm of a place still healing from its wounds. Ethan walked with deliberate steps, hands in his pockets, feeling the weight of his time here pressing down on him.
It had been more than two months since the Black Sun Syndicate fell, since the last battle left its mark on Kynara. Now, his ship was nearly ready. The mechanics assured him it would take only a few more days before he could leave. He had no reason to stay, yet here he was, retracing his steps through streets that had once been soaked in chaos and blood.
He had spent so much time fighting for this place, pushing himself beyond exhaustion to keep it from collapsing. And now, with his departure looming, he found himself lingering. Wanting to see for himself what had become of one of the cities he had spent so much effort protecting.
Valeris had changed.
Not in the way that war often left things broken beyond repair, but in a way that felt like a city determined to move forward. The scars were still there, some buildings remained partially collapsed, and some roads still bore the cracks of damage. Yet, amidst it all, life thrived.
New construction sites dotted the skyline, scaffolding climbing over ruined structures as engineers and workers repaired what could be salvaged. Business owners had reopened their stores, their neon signs flickering defiantly, promising hot food, cold drinks, and fresh supplies. The marketplace buzzed with voices haggling over goods, traders unloading crates of merchandise, and workers setting up new storefronts where empty husks once stood.
Children ran through the streets, laughing as they weaved between pedestrians. Vendors shouted about rare spices, imported fabrics, and mechanical upgrades, their voices adding to the noise of a city refusing to remain broken. Ethan saw a group of engineers repairing an old transport station, their hands covered in grease, their faces set in determined concentration.
The people of Valeris had suffered, but they had not given in. They had chosen to rebuild.
Ethan had never considered himself a hero.
He had fought because he had to, because walking away had never been an option. He didn't want to see the first planet he had landed on in this new universe collapse under the weight of greed, corruption, and war. At the time, it had felt like survival, another battle, another contract, another day staying ahead of the inevitable. He had told himself he was simply playing his part, a mercenary in a fight that wasn't even his own.
And yet, as time went on he felt more and more connected to this place and its people.
Standing here now, watching Valeris rise from the ashes, he felt something unexpected.
Pride.
Not in himself. Not in the violence, the bloodshed, or the bodies left behind in the wake of war. He had never fought for medals, recognition, or gratitude. He had fought because people had needed him, because no one else had stepped up. Because when the time had come to choose between action and indifference, he had done what he was incapable of doing in his previous life.
But looking around now, he realized that the impact of his actions had stretched further than he ever expected. The shopkeepers who had once locked their doors in fear now stood outside their stores, talking with customers, rebuilding what they had lost. Families, who had cowered in underground shelters during the Syndicate's terror attacks, now walked the streets with their children, determined to reclaim their home. The former coalition fighters, those who had once been scattered rebels and disgraced federation guards, now patrolled in coordinated units, wearing uniforms under a new banner. One not dictated by occupation, but by the will of the people who had fought to take their planet back.
It wasn't the weapons or battles that had won Valeris its future. It was the resilience of its people. The willingness to stand, to fight, to rebuild.
And Ethan had been a part of that.
Even if he was reluctant to believe people would remember his name years from now, even if he still viewed himself as just another soldier passing through the galaxy, he knew he had left something behind here. Something beyond destruction and conflict. He had helped build something that would last beyond the battlefield.
And that, more than any victory he had ever claimed, meant something.
His feet carried him to the outskirts of the city, where the memorial wall stood in silent tribute.
The structure had grown since the last time he stood before it. More names had been added. Each name represented a life, a story cut short. The air here was quieter than anywhere else in the city, heavy with the weight of sacrifice. Even Valeris itself seemed to understand, no laughter, no chatter from the streets reached this place. Just the whisper of the wind and the distant hum of the city they had died protecting.
Ethan stepped forward, his fingers grazing the etched names. Some were unfamiliar, civilians caught in the crossfire, fighters who had arrived long after he had first stepped onto this planet. But others… others he knew.
Comrades. Friends. People who had stood beside him in the darkest moments of the fight. The ones who had risked everything and had paid the ultimate price. People who had believed in Kynara, who had refused to surrender even when the odds were impossible. People who had never gotten the chance to see the planet rise from the ruins, to walk these streets free from fear.
He let out a slow breath, the familiar sting of loss tightening in his chest. It wasn't the sharp, gut-wrenching grief of fresh tragedy. It was something deeper, something quieter. A weight that never fully left him, no matter how many battles he fought or how many years passed.
"You didn't die for nothing, we made sure of it."
The words were barely more than a whisper, spoken for no one but the dead. He had no illusions about the galaxy. There would always be another war, another power hungry force seeking control. But here, in this planet, in this moment, these people had won. And their sacrifice had not been in vain.
He stood there for a long time, letting himself remember. Not the violence, not the chaos, not the blood spilled in the streets. He remembered those fleeting moments with the ones lost. The way they had laughed between missions, the quiet moments of camaraderie, the unwavering determination in their eyes. They hadn't fought for glory. They had fought for each other.
That, more than anything, was what mattered.
When he finally turned to leave, he didn't look back. He didn't have to. The names would always be there, etched into the city's history, into the cold metal of the wall.
And into his memory, as deeply as the scars he carried.
Ethan's path led him back toward the heart of the city, past the repaired streets, past the glowing signs and bustling crowds. The weight of Valeris no longer rested on his shoulders.
He had done what he came to do. The city no longer needed him.
As he neared the hotel he stayed in, he allowed himself one last glance at the skyline. It wasn't perfect, some wounds would take years to heal, some losses would never fully fade. But Valeris and Kynara as a whole would survive. It would keep pushing forward, with or without him.
His future lay elsewhere, among the stars, in places unknown. There would always be another fight, another cause, another place in need of someone like him.
But no matter how far he went, a part of him would always remain here, in the people who had fought for their future.