Ethan woke before his arm, though he barely needed it anymore. His internal clock was sharp, a rhythm honed through years of discipline and necessity. Even in peace, old instincts persisted. He stretched, rolling his shoulders, feeling the familiar stiffness of past injuries, echoes of a life lived on the edge. The ache had long since become a part of him, a quiet reminder of the battles he'd fought and survived.

  The ship's dim emergency lighting pulsed gently against the walls, casting faint shadows that flickered with each soft surge of power. The hum of the ventition system filled the quiet, a low mechanical drone that had become as familiar as breathing. It wasn't silence, but it was enough.

  He dressed quickly, movements precise and efficient. Boots ced tight. Jacket pulled snug over his frame. His fingers brushed against the holster out of habit, lingering there for just a moment before he let it go. The weapons stayed behind. Bringing his ser pistol and daggers to a meeting with Governor Krenn wasn't just unnecessary, it was an insult to the yers of security he'd face. The Federation would strip him bare if they had to, and he didn't feel like spending an extra hour being scanned by invasive tech.

  The repair hangar buzzed with life, the air thick with the metallic tang of scorched steel and polymer resin. The scent clung to everything, a mix of burning circuitry and lubricants that stuck in the throat. Sparks fred in sharp bursts as drones hovered around disassembled ships, their articuted limbs moving with surgical precision. Welders cut through damaged hull pting, while mechanical arms slid repcement components into pce like pieces of a puzzle.

  Engineers crowded around floating holo-dispys, their fingers swiping and pinching projections of complex schematics. The diagrams shifted and rotated in response, entire sections of ships rendered in glowing blue outlines. They argued, voices sharp but focused, each one trying to solve a different piece of the puzzle. The tension wasn't frustration, it was purpose.

  Ethan's ship sat in the far corner, partially disassembled. Panels removed, wiring spread out like veins beneath exposed pting. He barely spared it a gnce as he left. Iris had the repairs under control. It always did. The onboard AI was meticulous, overseeing the team of engineers with relentless precision. Ethan trusted it completely.

  The Valeris Skytram awaited outside, gliding silently along its magnetic rail like a creature out of pce in the battered cityscape. It was a marvel of Kynaran engineering: sleek, reflective, with smooth curves that seemed almost organic. The tram's surface caught the light as it moved, shimmering like liquid metal beneath the rising sun. The doors slid open with a soundless motion, and Ethan stepped inside, the faint hum of the rails beneath his feet a steady reminder of the technology that powered the transport.

  The interior was immacute, designed with an almost clinical attention to detail. The seats, made from adaptive synthetic material, adjusted to a passenger's shape within seconds, molding to provide optimal comfort. The air smelled faintly of citrus, a deliberate choice, carefully calcuted to offset the sterile atmosphere of the tram. Holo-dispys hovered in the air, translucent panels that scrolled through a constant stream of news updates and system alerts.

  "Coalition Crews Expand Refugee Zones in Sector Nine""Bck Sun Syndicate Remnants Still at Large — Ongoing Investigations""Governor Krenn to Meet with Foreign Merchant Envoys Regarding Kynara's Reconstruction"

  Ethan leaned against the window, watching the city unfold beneath him.

  Valeris was a city in transition, a living testament to destruction and rebirth. The scars left by the Bck Sun Syndicate and the terror attacks orchestrated by Raeth still marred the skyline. Half-colpsed buildings stood like skeletons, their jagged silhouettes cwing at the horizon. Bckened scorch marks lingered on stone and steel, remnants of psma detonations that had gutted entire districts.

  But beside the ruins, new structures were rising. Skyscrapers stretched skyward, their facades gleaming with reinforced alloy and reflective composites. Hover-ptforms drifted through the air, carrying materials to work crews stationed on high beams. Construction drones swarmed like mechanical insects, welding support struts and ying intricate lines of wiring with relentless precision.

  The streets below pulsed with life. Vendors reassembled market stalls, their hands moving with practiced efficiency as they stacked crates of produce and unpacked goods. Engineers coordinated rebuilds through holo-links, fingers dancing over glowing interfaces as they calcuted load distribution and resource management in real time.

  Children pyed in the alleys, their ughter echoing through the streets. They chased after drones, waving makeshift fgs and pretending to command squads of coalition forces . To them, the war against the Syndicate was a story. A chapter in history they'd never truly understand. And maybe that was a good thing.

  It wasn't just survival. It was progress.

  Ethan watched it all, arms crossed over his chest, a faint flicker of satisfaction beneath his composed exterior. The people of Valeris weren't just rebuilding their city, they were reciming their future. Refusing to be defined by the destruction that had scarred their world.

  The resilience of it all stirred something deep in his chest. Not hope. Something sturdier.

  Conviction.

  The tram picked up speed, gliding toward the towering silhouette of the Grand Aeloria. Its crystalline spires caught the light, reflecting the glow of Kynara's twin suns in dazzling rays that scattered across the horizon. The building loomed like a beacon, a symbol of the pnet's governance and its people's resolve to keep moving forward.

  Ethan's reflection ghosted across the window, but he barely noticed. He wasn't lost in the past. Wasn't haunted by old wounds or weighed down by regrets. He'd walked through fire and come out tempered. Stronger.

  He wasn't dwelling on what had been, or dreading what might come next.

  This meeting with Governor Krenn was a final thread tying him to the conflicts of the past. After today, there'd be no more lingering obligations. No remnants of the war dragging him back. Whatever decisions were made in that room, whatever future pns were set in motion, Ethan knew his role in shaping this chapter of Kynara's history was nearly done.

  And he was ready to step away from it all.

  Not out of weariness, but because he'd given everything he had. And now, for the first time in months, he could look toward something new.

  He didn't know exactly what came next. But he was ready to find out