Chapter 24: Nightmare Witnessed

Evelyn looked up at him, her eyes shining with unwavering determination. "Vykhor, I’m fine, really," she assured him, a confident smile on her lips. "The bracelet Kryna developed is a technological miracle. It perfectly regulates my energy needs and continuously provides the nutrients I require. Despite the stress of this mission, I don’t feel any real fatigue."

She paused, her expression growing more serious. "I know I don’t have your field experience, but I’m ready. I want to keep fighting by your side, and I want to prove that I can be useful." Her voice was filled with quiet strength, but also a sincere desire to prove herself.

Vykhor watched her for a moment, weighing her words. She did seem strong, and he could sense that fire in her, that iron will that had impressed him more than once. But a part of him couldn’t help but worry, wondering if this mission would push them both past their limits.

"Alright," he finally said, his voice softened by a hint of admiration. "But promise me that if you feel the slightest weakness, you’ll let me know. Every moment counts here, and I’d rather have you safe than see you taking unnecessary risks." His usual hardened gaze softened for a moment, revealing a flicker of emotion.

Evelyn nodded, touched by his concern. "I promise," she whispered, feeling a comforting warmth growing between them, a connection that went beyond words.

With that promise exchanged, Vykhor and Evelyn rejoined the group, ready to face the upcoming challenges together, bound not only by a shared sense of duty but also by a budding trust that continued to strengthen, even amid the chaos.

The first night the mercenaries spent at the rebel camp was marked by a palpable tension, a blend of mistrust and exhaustion. The rebels had provided a small and makeshift resting area, a cluster of improvised tents with thin mattresses and worn-out blankets. The air, heavy with the scent of packed earth and smoke from campfires, seemed to hum with the constant threat of Lord Taris Kryon’s patrols.

Vykhor was on edge. He had insisted that everyone stay alert, but he had reluctantly let Evelyn share a tent with Skye, the sniper. The mere thought of Evelyn being somewhere beyond his watchful eye made him anxious, but he respected her need for the company of another human, someone who, in some way, could remind her of home.

Inside the tent, Evelyn settled on a cot beside Skye’s. The human mercenary looked at her with a lopsided grin, her rifle resting carefully against her thigh. There was a genuine curiosity in Skye’s eyes, a glimmer that held both a hint of solidarity and a trace of wariness.

“So, Evelyn,” Skye said, leaning forward slightly, “it’s rare to meet someone like you, especially with a mind that sharp. How’d you learn all that stuff?”

Evelyn hesitated for a moment, memories of her past bubbling to the surface. She swallowed, then replied softly, “I grew up in a secret lab. I was… a project. They taught me to memorize, to understand, to absorb knowledge at a terrifying pace. I didn’t have a choice.” She paused, her gaze drifting into the distance. “I eventually escaped.”

Skye squinted, her expression hardening slightly. “That kind of thing… it’s what drives me nuts about our species,” she murmured, her voice laced with barely restrained anger. “Humans and their insatiable greed, always willing to exploit the weakest for a profit.” She straightened up, shaking her head. “At least here, as mercenaries, we do something worthwhile. We fight for a cause, even if it’s for pay.”

Evelyn nodded, feeling a mix of gratitude and discomfort at the conversation. Skye fell silent for a moment, then set her rifle down and fixed Evelyn with a serious look. “Look, I know Vykhor defended you in front of the group. But be careful, alright? A man with a past that dark, a man who’s lost everything… some wounds never really heal. He could be dangerous.”

Evelyn lowered her eyes, reflecting on Skye’s warning. She understood Skye’s concerns, but she disagreed. Vykhor wasn’t so easily categorized. She had seen moments of gentleness in him, glimpses of humanity he tried so hard to hide behind his stoic exterior. “I don’t think Vykhor is that predictable,” she murmured, shaking her head. “He’s… complex. He’s not just a broken man turned into a dangerous beast. He’s more than that.”

Skye raised an eyebrow, then sighed, falling back onto her cot. “Maybe. But keep your eyes open, anyway.”

Trying to shift the conversation, Evelyn looked at Skye with curiosity. “I noticed there are more humans here than I expected. How is that possible? Earth seems so isolated, so far from here.”

Skye smirked, her features softening a bit. “Most of the humans you see aren’t really from Earth. A lot of them are descendants of humans taken from Earth generations ago. Slavers, explorers, traders…” She waved a hand dismissively. “Some managed to keep their Earth roots alive, but others, like me, are mixed blood. Half-breeds, if you will. I’ve got human blood, but ancestors who never even saw Earth.”

Evelyn listened intently, her thoughts whirling. The story of these humans scattered across the galaxy felt both tragic and captivating. She wondered how many tales like Skye’s were out there, how many lives had been irrevocably changed by forces she was only beginning to understand.

They finally lay down to sleep, the murmur of the rebel camp gradually fading away. Evelyn closed her eyes, aware that even in this vast and harsh universe, connections were forming, stories intertwining, and she was now part of it all.

Night had long fallen over the rebel camp, wrapping the tents in a suffocating darkness, broken only by the faint glow of dying campfires. Everything seemed calm, until blood-curdling screams shattered the silence.

Evelyn, lying on her cot, was trapped in a horrifying nightmare, a relic of her past that she had never managed to shake. Her body tensed, trembling uncontrollably, and her hands clutched the thin blankets as if desperately seeking something tangible to escape the hell of her memories.

In her dream, she was back in the lab, her skin crawling with thousands of stinging sensations as electrodes sent shocks into her brain. Disembodied voices, cold and clinical, droned around her, reciting numbers and orders as if she were nothing more than a test subject. The pain was constant, searing, and the scientists’ indifference only deepened her despair.

Skye, sharing the tent with her, woke up with a start, shaken by Evelyn’s screams. She rushed to her side, kneeling next to her and trying to soothe her. “Evelyn, wake up, it’s just a nightmare,” she whispered, her voice gentle but filled with concern. She shook Evelyn’s shoulder lightly, but nothing seemed to pull her from the grip of her past. Evelyn’s screams grew more piercing, and Skye felt a surge of panic.

The cries drew the attention of the other mercenaries, who quickly gathered outside. Rax Ulthor, the usually snarky cyborg hacker, arrived first. For once, his typical arrogance was replaced by genuine worry. “What’s going on here?” he asked, his voice softer than usual.

Kharok, arriving last, crossed his arms and looked on with apparent indifference, raising an eyebrow as if the commotion wasn’t worth his time. “What’s all the racket? We’re trying to sleep,” he grumbled.

But before anyone could act, Vykhor appeared, imposing and resolute. In an instant, he assessed the situation, his expression hardening. “Move aside,” he ordered, his voice cold and leaving no room for argument.

The mercenaries exchanged uncertain glances, but Vykhor’s authority was undeniable. Even Rax, despite his curiosity, backed off reluctantly. Kharok, though visibly unimpressed, eventually shrugged and walked away without another word. Skye stayed nearby, watching with apprehension and curiosity.

Vykhor knelt beside Evelyn, his typically stoic and hardened face softened by an unusual expression of concern. He placed his hand on her forehead, then her cheek, murmuring something in his native Kael’tarien tongue, a language that sounded like a deep, soothing melody. His fingers, usually so strong and dangerous, were gentle as they brushed her face.

Gradually, Evelyn’s screams turned into muffled sobs. She opened her eyes, her gaze still clouded with fear, but Vykhor’s presence seemed to calm her, anchoring her to the present. She took a shaky breath, clinging to reality, and his hands remained softly on her, offering an unexpected comfort.

Skye, who had been observing from afar, felt a chill run down her spine. Maybe Evelyn was right, she thought. Maybe Vykhor Kael’seth, the feared mercenary with a dark past, wasn’t as simple as he seemed. There was more to him than a cold, ruthless warrior.

She raised an eyebrow, a slight smirk playing at her lips. “Those two are one hell of an odd pair,” she muttered to herself before stepping back quietly, leaving Vykhor to watch over Evelyn. The scene had piqued her interest, and she couldn’t help but wonder what other sides of Vykhor and Evelyn were yet to be revealed.

“I’m sorry, Vykhor,” Evelyn whispered, her voice cracking with shame. Her hands still trembled slightly, and she clutched the blanket to hide her unease. She had really hoped tonight would be one of the rare nights she’d sleep peacefully, free from the torment of her past. But fate had other plans, and now she felt exposed, vulnerable, and terribly humiliated for showing such weakness.

Vykhor knelt beside her, his intense yellow gaze locked on her. “You don’t have to be,” he said with surprising calm. He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, a gesture of tenderness she never imagined from him. “Your nightmares don’t define you. You went through hell, and yet, you’re here, stronger than you think.” His words, though few, carried a sincerity that made Evelyn’s heart beat a little faster.