CHAPTER 372: NO PLACE LIKE HOME

[Eight hours after the Purge]

A massive transport ship *Hermes* dwarfed everything around it as it settled into position above Sirius Prime. Its hull stretched for nearly two kilometers, bristling with defensive armaments and equipped with medical facilities that could handle a small army. Today, it would need every bed.

Noah stood on the observation deck, watching the evacuation shuttles ferry survivors from the planet’s surface. Six days in hell, and this was what they had to show for it—thousands of civilians freed from mind control, a captured telepath rescued, and one of the most dangerous Harbingers in human history now in the hands of the Purge.

Victory. But at what cost?

The briefcase containing the planet-buster felt heavier than it should as Noah made his way through the ship’s corridors. Medical personnel rushed past him, their faces grim as they tended to the wounded. The casualty reports were still coming in, but Noah had seen enough to know the numbers would be staggering.

He found Cassandra in the command medical bay, her left arm in a regenerative cast, her face pale but determined. The healers had done their work, but the shadow of how close she’d come to death still lingered in her eyes.

"The briefcase," Noah said simply, extending it toward her.

Cassandra took it with her good hand, her fingers trembling slightly. "I’m sorry you had to carry this burden, Noah. No one should have to make that choice."

"It’s part of the job," Noah replied, though his voice carried the weight of someone who’d aged years in the past week. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I got hit by a starship," she said with a weak smile. "But I’ll live. That’s more than a lot of good soldiers can say today." Her expression darkened. "How’s Storm doing?"

"He’ll be fine. Both he and Nyx are resting in my domain. Storm took a beating, but wyvern resilience is something else." Noah’s voice carried genuine affection for his bonded creatures. "They saved more lives than we can count."

Cassandra nodded, then studied Noah’s face. "You’ve grown, you know. When you first arrived at the vanguard station, you were talented but reckless with your own life. You still are though only now..." She paused, choosing her words carefully. "Now you’re something humanity needs. An SSS-ranked soldier. Only the second in our history."

The weight of that designation settled on Noah’s shoulders. SSS-ranked meant more than just power—it meant responsibility on a scale that most people couldn’t comprehend. It meant being one of humanity’s last resorts when everything else failed.

"I need to find Sophie," Noah said quietly.

"Go," Cassandra replied. "You’ve all earned some rest. That’s an order."

Noah made his way through the ship’s corridors, past wounded soldiers and exhausted civilians. The Hermes was a city in space, equipped with everything needed for long-range operations. But today it felt like a mobile hospital, filled with the echoes of war.

He found Sophie in one of the smaller observation lounges, staring out at the stars. She looked small against the vast viewport, her shoulders tense with exhaustion and stress. When she heard his footsteps, she turned, and Noah saw the tears she’d been holding back.

"Noah," she breathed, and then she was in his arms, sobbing against his chest. Her body shook with the force of her emotions—relief, terror, grief, all pouring out at once.

"I’m here," he whispered, holding her tight. "We made it. We’re alive."

"I thought I’d lost you," she choked out between sobs. "First that female one and then when Kruel—when I saw what he did to Storm—I thought—"

"But you didn’t," Noah said firmly, his hand stroking her hair. "We’re here. We’re together. That’s what matters."

Sophie pulled back to look at him, her eyes red but determined. "The Purge has him, Noah. They have Kruel. What do they want with him? What could they possibly need a Harbinger for. A four horn at that. What if Kruel returns?"

"Then we’ll face it," Noah replied. "Together. Like we always do."

They stood there in silence, holding each other as the ship hummed around them. Both of them barely adults, thrust into a war that demanded everything from them. But they had survived. They were still here.

---

In the ship’s main briefing room, Cassandra sat across from Commander Stones, their faces grim as they reviewed the after-action reports. The holographic display showed tactical analyses, casualty figures, and most troubling of all, footage from the Purge’s extraction of Kruel.

"Teleportation technology," Stones said, his voice heavy with concern. "Planet-to-planet instantaneous travel. That changes everything."

"Not just teleportation," Cassandra replied. "Time manipulation. They froze an entire area in temporal stasis. That’s not just advanced technology—that’s something else entirely."

"Do we have any intelligence on their capabilities?"

"Limited. But what we do know is troubling. They’ve been planning this for years. The mind control operation, the timing of their intervention—it was all coordinated." Cassandra leaned forward. "This wasn’t opportunistic. They wanted Kruel specifically."

The briefing room doors opened, and Commander Pierce entered, his uniform crisp despite having spent the last hour in the ship’s medical bay. His face carried the expression of someone trying to project authority while nursing wounded pride.

"Commanders," he said, taking a seat without invitation. "I wanted to congratulate you on the successful extraction. Despite the... complications."

Cassandra’s expression didn’t change, but Stones visibly tensed. "Complications, Pierce? We lost over three hundred soldiers. The Purge has a four-horn Harbinger. I’d call that more than complications."

"Every operation has casualties," Pierce replied smoothly. "What matters is that we achieved our objectives. The civilians are safe, the telepath is recovered, and our forces are intact."

"Our forces?" Cassandra’s voice carried a dangerous edge. "I did not want to insult you in front of those kids but intelligence knows you spent the entire operation in the rear, Pierce. Don’t presume to take credit for what these kids accomplished."

Pierce’s face flushed, but he pressed on. "I thought it would be appropriate to address the troops. Give them the recognition they deserve."

"Good idea," Stones said. "The common area in twenty minutes."

---

Twenty minutes later, the ship’s common area was packed with soldiers, medics, and support personnel. The atmosphere was subdued—the weight of the past week evident in every face. Pierce stood at the front, his posture confident as he began his speech.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I want to recognize the extraordinary heroism displayed over the past week. You faced impossible odds and emerged victorious. The civilians of the Sirius system are safe because of your courage. The Earth Defense Forces are proud to—"

His words fell into silence. Not a single cheer, not a single expression of approval. The soldiers stared at him with expressions ranging from indifference to barely concealed contempt. They had seen real leadership in the heat of battle. They knew who had fought beside them and who had hidden behind the lines.

Pierce’s confidence faltered. He tried to continue, but the weight of their silence was crushing. After a few more awkward sentences, he gave up, his head down as he made his way toward the exit.

"Get some rest," Cassandra called out after Pierce had left. "All of you. It’s the least you deserve."

The crowd began to disperse, but the mood remained heavy. They had won, but victory felt hollow when paid for with so much blood.

---

Lucas stood in the bathroom, staring at his reflection in the mirror. His face looked older than his twenty years, marked by exhaustion and the weight of command. Lightning sparked faintly in his eyes—not the controlled energy of his abilities, but the reflection of his inner turmoil.

"We failed," he said to his reflection. "I failed."

The mission had been a trap from the beginning. Kruel had orchestrated the entire thing, using Bruce’s telepathic abilities to control over 200,000 civilians. And in the end, the Purge had gotten what they wanted—a four-horn Harbinger.

"I’m supposed to be the leader," Lucas continued, his voice growing harder. "I’m supposed to protect my team. And I let them walk into a trap."

The lightning in his eyes intensified. He thought about Noah’s growth, about Sophie’s determination, about how they had all stepped up when leadership was needed. But he had been reactive, always one step behind the enemy’s plans.

"Not strong enough," he whispered. "Not smart enough. Not fast enough."

His reflection stared back at him, and Lucas made a silent promise. He would grow stronger. He would become the leader his team deserved.

He would never again let his friends walk into danger unprepared.

The lightning crackled, and for a moment, the bathroom lights flickered. Lucas smiled grimly.

"I have work to do,"

---

Three decks down, Kelvin sat alone in his quarters, examining his new cybernetic arms. The nanobotic technology was incredible—full sensory feedback, enhanced strength, and integrated weapon systems that made his original limbs seem primitive by comparison.

He flexed his fingers, watching the synthetic muscles respond with perfect precision. The rocket launcher built into his left forearm was a masterpiece of engineering, and the enhanced interface ports meant he could jack into any system with unprecedented speed.

"Not bad for a rush job," he said to himself, his voice carrying its usual humor despite the circumstances. "Hell, I can probably arm-wrestle a Harbinger now."

But beneath the jokes, Kelvin was struggling. The phantom pain from his lost limbs was manageable, but the psychological impact was something else entirely. He had been carved up by a Harbinger, his flesh and bone no match for alien fury. The cybernetics were incredible, but they were also a constant reminder of his mortality.

A knock at his door interrupted his thoughts. "Come in," he called out.

Diana entered, her expression as composed as always. The Ice Queen, they called her—not because she was cold, but because she remained calm no matter what chaos surrounded her. She moved to his bed and sat down without invitation.

"How are you doing?" she asked.

"Fantastic," Kelvin replied with a grin. "Check this out." He activated a holographic display from his palm, showing technical specifications for his new arms. "Full weapon integration, enhanced processing power, and I can literally punch through starship hulls now."

Diana stared at him in silence for a long moment. "Cut the crap, Kelvin. How are you really doing?"

The humor faded from his face. "You’re a tough crowd, Diana."

"I’m serious."

Kelvin sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly. "It’s... complicated. The arms are incredible, don’t get me wrong. But every morning I’ll wake up and for just a second, I would forget. I’ll try to feel with flesh that isn’t there anymore."

Diana moved closer, her hand reaching out to touch his cybernetic fingers. "They look pretty cool. Practically better than the original."

"Practically, maybe," Kelvin said quietly. "But nothing can be better than the original, right?"

That’s when Diana broke.

The composure she had maintained throughout the entire mission cracked, and tears began streaming down her face. "I can’t take the horror of this war anymore," she whispered. "I’m scared, Kelvin. When Noah and I fought that three-horn—the first female Harbinger in human history—I thought for sure we’d die. That feeling... I hate it."

Kelvin’s expression softened. "Diana—"

"I just had a quick nap during the evacuation protocols. And I woke up screaming," she continued. "I see her face, feel her claws. I’m supposed to be strong, supposed to be the Ice Queen, but I’m just a scared kid who wants to go home."

"Hey," Kelvin said gently, his cybernetic hand surprisingly warm as he touched her shoulder. "Those fears are valid. We all feel it—Noah, Lucas, Lyra, Sophie, the commanders, every soldier. Fear is what keeps us alive."

"But I’m supposed to be stronger—"

"You survived a three-crown Harbinger," Kelvin interrupted. "Most soldiers don’t survive a single crown. You’re not just strong, Diana—you’re incredible. Your momentum nullification ability saved Noah’s life more times than I can count. You’re a powerhouse, even if you don’t see it."

Diana looked up at him, her eyes still wet with tears. "You really think so?"

"I know so," Kelvin said firmly. "You’re one of the most underrated soldiers in the entire vanguard program. But those of us who fight beside you? We know exactly what you’re capable of."

Something shifted in Diana’s expression. Before Kelvin could react, her hands were on his face, and she was kissing him. It was desperate, grateful, and completely unexpected.

Then she pulled away, her face flushed, and rushed toward the door.

"Diana, wait—"

But she was already gone, the door sliding shut behind her.

Kelvin sat in stunned silence for a long moment, his cybernetic fingers unconsciously touching his lips. Then he shook his head and laughed—a sound that was equal parts shock and wonder.

"Well," he said to the empty room, "that’s one way to short-circuit a cyborg’s emotional subroutines."

He stared at the closed door, a smile spreading across his face. Maybe losing his arms hadn’t cost him everything after all.

Outside his window, the stars wheeled past as the Hermes continued its journey back to the vanguard station. They had survived six days in hell, but the war was far from over. The Purge had Kruel, and whatever they planned to do with him would reshape the conflict in ways none of them could imagine.

But for now, they were alive. They were together. And sometimes, that was enough.