Chapter 32 #2
He could cope with the death of the other men, but not with his second-in-command's.
She was the only person in the army who made hell more tolerable—his protégé, his best friend, the one with whom he'd shared the burden of Akira's loss, someone for whom he would move mountains.
So, as soon as he confirmed she was still alive, he fastened Kyller's necklace on her.
He didn't know if the sinil could contain damage of that magnitude, but he hoped it would help Kaori hold on until she reached the medical base.
Luckily, Cauê had already contacted the Vinturian base five hours earlier, reporting that Kaori was in the middle of the confrontation.
The helicopter arrived exactly as Zion finished collecting all the bodies and flew away loaded.
For lack of space, Zion was left alone in the middle of the dark forest. Just him, the darkness, and all the demons roaring for retaliation in his chest.
Knowing he could lose Kaori tore a hole in his chest, straight to the memories of the day Akira died. It made his blood boil in a sickening way.
So he did exactly what Cauê had warned him not to do. He returned to the gorge.
Slowly, he walked among the bodies of his former colleagues, saying goodbye one last time and letting himself take in the full extent of the damage.
In his 250 years in the army, he'd only lost this many men twice.
The first time, in the final battle against the chimeras.
The second, on the night his friend was taken.
Zion burned in his grief. Past and present blurred along a dangerously unstable line.
His boots crunched on ancient bones as he passed.
The fog from the battle between fire and water users hung thick, covering every inch of the place.
Zion walked through the heavy air, which rippled around him.
He didn't know where his shadows began and the darkness ended—he was focused only on gathering each death around him, sharpening the blade that was his soul.
Cautiously, he made his way toward the voices, toward the heart of the army that had destroyed his men.
The shadows followed him like serpents, undulating over bodies, communicating that many enemies lay ahead.
They were setting up camp when the general emerged from the fog. On his shoulders, the shadows smiled—perverse and hungry. They remembered the days when Zion still liberated forced reproduction facilities, and they were eager for the results of this night.
The moment the general and his shadows emerged from the mantle of mist, the men only had time to shout:
“Shadow!”
Then the general unleashed his darkness on all the Drutes present.
The soldiers' gifts attacked him. A metal chain shot toward him, but he vanished and reappeared behind the soldier, stabbing him through the heart.
Water, fire, air, explosions, telekinesis...
Every gift struck at once, but he was the night itself, and the darkness shielded him, whispering warnings of incoming attacks before they even grazed his skin.
That night, the ravine learned true terror, and the walls echoed with the despair of souls being torn apart: the screams of people already dead before their bodies hit the ground.
Nothing could stop him as his chest poured all the pain, sadness, and grief onto the guilty—as his shadow-wrapped fists split skulls with a single blow and the shadows surged like waves of a furious sea.
Zion was an entire ocean, and his waves would break and break until the stones turned to sand.
And they did.
△
After leaving the attacked facility, the general traveled through the shadows, and the moment he stepped onto the outer wall, his phone started ringing.
“Yes?” He answered on the first ring.
“This is Ana from Interion Central Hospital. We have news about your men, General.” The woman's voice sounded robotic on the other end, and Zion held his breath.
“Go ahead, I'm listening.” His chest was tight. He knew there was a good chance this call meant bad news about one of his men, but it would be even worse if it was about his friend.
“All twenty soldiers are stable. Five of them underwent complex surgeries and are recovering well.”
Zion drew a deep breath, as if he'd been drowning and could finally surface after hours of desperation. He walked along the wall, and the only reason he didn't let himself collapse to his knees was the guards staring at him.
“How is Kaori Yamamoto?” he asked, still unable to believe it. He'd left her practically dead, and the news that she was okay seemed unreal. He felt relieved but afraid his ears were playing tricks on him.
“Stable. They just sent her to the CT scan room. If everything looks good, they'll take her off the sedative soon.” Zion simply couldn't believe it—there was no way Kaori was okay.
“Have they said anything about lasting damage?” he asked, somewhat reluctantly.
“No, but the doctors are staying positive, and the patient is no longer intubated. She's breathing on her own, which is a miracle—the surgery only had a ten percent chance of success.”
The general ran a hand through his hair, still unable to believe the woman's words.
A ten percent success rate was a new medical record.
Zion still remembered when Ambrose had pulled off a surgery with thirty percent odds, earning the attention of the entire continent and a medal of honor from the medical council.
No doubt journalists would swarm the hospital again like bees around honey.
“Tell Ambrose I'm very grateful for what he did. I'll stop by the hospital to thank him.”
The attendant went silent on the other end, then cleared her throat.
“I'm sorry, but it wasn't Ambrose who performed the surgery,” the girl replied, a hint of uncertainty in her voice.
Zion was confused. Ambrose was Interion's greatest neurosurgeon, Lorenzo specialized in cardiac surgery, and Selene in general surgery and obstetrics...
Then he remembered. Ambrose was Kyller's mentor. His heart skipped a few beats.
“Was it Kyller?” he exclaimed, practically shouting. He couldn't even name what he was feeling, but his chest swelled with something warm—pride and relief intertwined.
“Yes, she performed the surgery. It lasted fourteen hours, and there were several complications, but everything went well. Kyller just left the hospital, sir.” She sounded proud of the feat too, and Zion found himself marveling at the level of skill Kyller must possess.
A ten percent chance of success was nearly impossible—with this surgery, she had surpassed Ambrose before even graduating.
“Ana, thank you so much for the information. If there's any change in Kaori's condition, please let me know,” he said, already preparing to transport himself again.
“We'll keep you informed. Goodbye, General.”
Zion was already on his way home when the call ended. He was desperate to see his partner and had no idea how to even begin thanking her. Damn! He wanted to lay the world at that girl's feet. He hurried back to her.
To his partner.