Ethan had never been one for grand farewells, but this one felt necessary.
His time in Kynara was coming to an end. Soon, he would be boarding his ship, setting off toward the unknown. He had always known this day would come, mercenaries didn't put down roots, not for long. But Kynara had been different. It had been the first planet he arrived in when transmigrated to this new universe. It had been a place where friendships had formed in the heat of conflict, where alliances had been forged in blood and fire.
He had no illusions about how life worked in this line of work. They would all go their separate ways, chasing the next contract, the next battle. Some would rise in rank, others would fall. Some might never make it back from their next mission. That was just the way it was. But tonight, none of that mattered.
Tonight was about something else. About taking a moment to appreciate those who had stood beside him. About remembering the victories, the struggles, and the countless times they had saved each other's lives.
That was why he had chosen this place.
The restaurant was one of the best in the city, the kind of establishment where dignitaries and wealthy traders went to celebrate. Not the kind of place where mercenaries usually gathered, but that was the point. No more war rooms, no more damp hideouts, no more crowded camps filled with the stench of sweat and burnt metal. Just a warm space filled with good food, strong drinks, and the sound of laughter. Something they hadn't had nearly enough of.
As Ethan stepped inside, the sight before him made him pause.
The large, circular table was packed with familiar faces. Their armor and weapons had been set aside for the night, replaced by civilian clothes, though the battle-worn exhaustion in their eyes still remained. They sat back in their seats, swapping stories, reliving the chaos of past missions with exaggerated gestures and loud laughter.
It was strange seeing them like this. So many of them had only ever been seen through the haze of battle, their faces streaked with dirt and blood, their voices shouting orders or battle cries over the roar of gunfire. But tonight, they were different.
The room smelled of spiced meat and fresh bread, the scent of well-cooked meals mixing with the sharper tang of strong liquor. The air was thick with warmth and life, the clinking of glasses and the murmur of conversation.
Ethan took a slow breath, letting the moment settle over him.
The first to approach him were Rourke, Kara, and Malek.
E-Rank mercenaries, but far from inexperienced. They had been in this line of work long before Ethan, navigating the brutal, cutthroat world of mercenary life with the kind of hardened resilience that only came from surviving countless missions. They weren't just comrades, they had been some of the first people in this galaxy he had truly trusted.
They had fought together, struggled together, survived together. And not all of them had made it.
For a brief moment, Ethan's mind flashed to two missing faces. Dax and Leena.
Dax, who had always been the first to crack a joke, no matter how bleak the situation. Whose quick hands had saved their lives more than once.
Leena, with her warm and courageous personality. Who had been one of the best damn healer he'd ever seen, who had never hesitated to stand between danger and those who needed treatment.
Their absence was a weight that settled in his chest, but he pushed it down for now. This was a night for goodbyes, not for regrets.
Malek, grinning as always, raised his glass. "To Ethan Walker, the only bastard crazy enough to take on the Syndicate and live to tell about it."
"And the whole Bandit Warlord alliance," Kara added with a smirk, tipping her glass toward him.
Ethan chuckled, shaking his head. "It wasn't just me."
"Yeah, yeah," Malek waved him off. "We all pulled our weight, sure, but let's not pretend half of us would still be standing without you." He leaned in conspiratorially, lowering his voice just enough to make it sound like a secret. "Not that we'll admit that to anyone else."
Kara snorted, taking a sip of her drink. "Speak for yourself. I like my reputation."
Rourke, the veteran and quietest of the three, simply nodded in agreement. He wasn't a man of many words, but the respect in his eyes spoke louder than anything he could have said.
Ethan exhaled, rolling his drink between his hands. "Dax would've loved this," he murmured.
That earned a somber chuckle from Kara. "Yeah. He'd be right here, making fun of how sentimental you're getting."
"And stealing the best bottle off the shelf when no one was looking," Malek added, his grin dimming just slightly.
Rourke finally spoke, his voice steady but heavy. "Leena would've made sure we didn't drink ourselves into stupidity."
That drew a small, bittersweet smile from Ethan. "Yeah. She would've."
For a brief moment, silence settled between them. Not heavy, not uncomfortable, but the kind of silence that only comes from shared understanding. A quiet acknowledgment of what they had lost, and the bond that still remained.
Then, as if sensing the need to lift the mood, Malek clapped his hands together. "Alright, enough of that. We drink for them tonight, not mope."
He raised his glass higher. "To Dax and Leena."
The others followed without hesitation. "To Dax and Leena."
They drank, and the moment passed, not forgotten, but carried forward, like everything else they had survived.
Malek set his glass down with a satisfied sigh, his usual grin returning. "Now, on a less tragic note...you do realize that now that we've fought alongside the renowned C-Rank mercenary Ethan Walker, we need to start charging extra for jobs?"
Kara smirked. "Your name's gonna carry weight, and we'd be fools not to cash in on it."
Ethan shook his head, letting out a short laugh. "Just don't charge me extra when we work together again."
Kara tilted her head, considering. "No promises."
Malek grinned. "Yeah, we might have to start billing you for all the times we saved your ass."
Ethan raised a brow. "Pretty sure I saved yours more."
Kara snorted. "Here we go again."
As they bickered, the weight in Ethan's chest eased just a little. They were still here. And that was something worth holding onto.