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Leon, Nur, and Baluka sat in the hospital waiting room, a thick cloud of tension hanging over them. The sterile smell of disinfectant and the soft, rhythmic beeping of nearby machines filled the air. It was such a jarring contrast to the war-torn streets they had just escaped that none of them could quite adjust. The lingering echoes of gunfire, explosions, and the cries of fallen comrades were still fresh in their minds, like a distant nightmare threatening to resurface at any moment.
Leon sat hunched over, his elbows resting on his knees, rubbing his temples as if he could push the memories away. His usually calm demeanor was fraying at the edges. His hands, normally steady, trembled slightly as they moved. His eyes were bloodshot, sleeplessness etched into the lines of his face. Without warning, he stood up, breaking the oppressive silence with his sudden movement.
“I need some air,” he muttered, his voice rough, and before anyone could respond, he was already halfway to the door.
Baluka, who had been watching him closely, felt her heart tighten in concern. She knew Leon well enough to recognize when he was on the verge of breaking. The strain of the war, the lives lost, and the constant threat looming over them had worn them all down, but Leon bore the heaviest burden. He always had.
“Leon, wait,” Baluka called after him, her voice thick with the concern she could no longer hold back. She needed to know. They all needed to know. “Are Rex and Emi okay?”
Leon stopped just shy of the exit, his hand hovering over the door handle. He didn’t turn around immediately. For a moment, the only sound was the soft hum of the hospital machinery, the distant chatter of doctors and nurses in the hall. When Leon finally spoke, his voice was quieter, softer than before, as though he had to force the words out.
“Emi’s fine,” he said, his shoulders sagging slightly. “Her Palace... it did most of the heavy lifting, but she’s got a couple of broken ribs. She’ll recover.”
Baluka felt a brief surge of relief wash over her. Emi was tough, perhaps the toughest of them all, but hearing that she had come out of the battle alive was still a weight off her chest. But the worry gnawing at her wasn’t satisfied yet. There was someone else she needed to ask about.
“And Rex?” she asked, her voice quieter now, more hesitant, as if she already feared the answer.
Leon turned to face her, his eyes dull and tired, but there was a gentleness in them that hadn’t been there a moment before. “Rex is... on the roof, talking to his aunt. He’s alive, Baluka. That’s all that matters right now.”
There was a pause, thick with unspoken questions. Leon’s words didn’t soothe her completely. Nur, who had been sitting in silence, watching the exchange with his sharp, analytical eyes, finally spoke up. His voice was calm, steady, but there was a piercing quality to his tone, like he was cutting through the fog of confusion hanging over the room.
“And what about Hanako? Amber?” Nur’s gaze never left Leon, searching for the truth in his face.
Leon sighed, a deep, weary sound that seemed to carry the weight of the entire war on his shoulders. He ran a hand through his hair, his fingers trembling slightly. “Hanako’s with Rex,” he admitted, his voice strained. “But listen, I haven’t told Rona yet. A Yeager... being on our side... it’s a big deal. People aren’t going to understand. They’ll question it. We need to keep this quiet for now.”
Baluka’s brow furrowed, her mind racing. Hanako—a Yeager—fighting alongside them? The very idea was almost unthinkable. Yeagers were their sworn enemies, ruthless, powerful, and dangerous. For one of them to switch sides, it was... monumental. She knew Leon was right to keep it quiet, but it didn’t sit well with her. Still, she nodded in agreement, her mind turning over the implications of this revelation.
But Nur wasn’t done. His sharp eyes narrowed, and his voice took on a harder edge. “And Amber?” he pressed, the question hanging in the air like a loaded gun.
Leon’s face hardened, his entire demeanor shifting. He didn’t meet Nur’s eyes as he answered, his voice tight, clipped. “Amber... she’s gone somewhere. I don’t want to talk about it.”
The way he said it, the finality in his tone, made it clear that any further questions about Amber would not be welcome. Baluka exchanged a glance with Nur, but neither of them pushed the subject. The silence that followed was heavy, uncomfortable, each of them lost in their own thoughts.
Baluka shifted in her seat, trying to ease the tension in her body. “At least everyone’s alive,” she said softly, more to herself than anyone else, her voice barely above a whisper. It felt like a weak consolation, but she clung to it all the same.
“Yeah,” Nur agreed, his voice equally quiet, his expression grim. “Except for Rex’s master. She’s dead. Died protecting him.”
The weight of those words hit like a sledgehammer, leaving a suffocating silence in its wake. Rex’s master... she had been a pillar of strength, a guiding force, and now she was gone. The loss felt like a gaping wound, and none of them were sure how Rex would cope with it.
Leon was the first to break the silence, his voice low and tense. “Let’s not bring that up with Rex, alright? He’s been through enough.”
Baluka nodded, understanding the need to protect Rex from the added pain. They were all soldiers, but they were still human, and some wounds went deeper than any battlefield injury.
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Before anyone could say more, Baluka’s cybernetics buzzed. She blinked, her thoughts interrupted by the sudden vibration. “I’m sorry, I’ve got to take this,” she murmured, standing up and heading outside, her mind still swirling with the weight of everything that had just been said.
As soon as she stepped into the hospital courtyard, the fresh air hit her face, offering a brief moment of relief from the oppressive atmosphere inside. She answered the call, trying to clear her head. “Who is it?” she asked, her voice a mix of irritation and exhaustion.
“Baluka! Are you okay?” a frantic voice shouted on the other end of the line.
Baluka winced, recognizing the voice instantly. “Dad, don’t yell in my head like that,” she grumbled, rubbing her forehead with her free hand. “I’m fine. What’s going on?”
Her father’s voice cracked with emotion, a rare occurrence for the usually stoic man. “We thought you were dead! We got a transfer—5.3 million dollars into our account. We thought... we thought it was compensation.”
The breath caught in Baluka’s throat. Her mind reeled, trying to process what her father had just said. Five-point-three million? That wasn’t compensation—that was something else entirely. Her legs felt weak, and for a moment, the world tilted. She gripped the back of a nearby bench to steady herself, her thoughts racing.
“Don’t pass out yet, soldier,” a calm, authoritative voice said behind her, cutting through the fog of confusion.
Baluka spun around, her eyes widening in surprise. Rona, the leader of the Yeager force, stood just a few feet away, her presence commanding yet somehow comforting. Rona was a figure of strength, someone who had seen more wars than anyone else in their ranks. Her appearance here wasn’t a coincidence.
“Hey, Baluka,” Rona said, her voice casual but laced with a seriousness that couldn’t be ignored. “Mind if we talk for a minute?”
Baluka quickly ended the call with her father, still processing the flood of emotions running through her. She offered Rona a nervous smile, trying to regain her composure. “Of course, ma’am.”
“At ease, soldier,” Rona said, gesturing for her to sit on the nearby bench. They sat down, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. The sounds of the park around them were a stark contrast to the weight of the conversation that was about to unfold. Children laughed, families chatted, and the soft rustling of leaves filled the air.
Baluka couldn’t help but feel the sharp divide between the world of war she had just come from and the peaceful, almost idyllic scene unfolding around her. She glanced at Rona, waiting for her to speak, the tension in her shoulders refusing to ease.
Rona’s gaze was calm but intense, her eyes scanning the horizon before settling on Baluka once again. “What happened in Tokyo... it was no small thing. You and your team faced an incredible challenge, and you made it out alive. But I can’t imagine it was easy.”
Baluka swallowed hard, flashes of the battle coming to the forefront of her mind—fire, blood, the overwhelming sense of chaos. The sounds, the smells, the raw terror—it was all too fresh. “It wasn’t,” she admitted, her voice quieter than she intended.
Rona nodded slowly, her expression filled with understanding. “I know you’re tough. Resilient. You wouldn’t have made it this far if you weren’t. But I’ve seen this path before, Baluka. Sometimes, we push forward without ever stopping to ask ourselves why.”
Baluka frowned, confused by the direction of the conversation. “Why?” she echoed. “Ma’am, I know why I’m fighting. We’re all fighting for the same thing.”
Rona’s gaze sharpened, her voice steady but firm. “Are you? Or are you just surviving?”
Baluka blinked, taken aback by the question. Of course she was fighting for something—her team, her friends, the people she cared about. But surviving? That was different. She hadn’t thought of it like that before.
Rona leaned in slightly, her tone softening. “You’ve got potential, Baluka. More than you realize. You’ve proven it time and time again, not just to me, but to everyone who’s fought alongside you. But you need to know what you’re fighting for.”
Baluka felt the weight of Rona’s words sink in, settling heavily on her chest. She had always seen herself as a soldier, someone who did what needed to be done to protect those she cared about. But now, with Rona looking at her like this, like she was more than just a cog in the machine, she wasn’t sure what to think.
“Is this about Hanako?” Baluka asked, her voice hesitant.
Rona’s expression shifted slightly, becoming more guarded. “Partly. Having a Yeager on our side... it changes things. People will see her as a threat. Even if she’s loyal to Rex, there will be those who won’t trust her. And they’ll question your loyalty too, whether you like it or not.”
Baluka’s stomach tightened. She hadn’t thought of it that way. Of course people would question Hanako’s motives, but her own loyalty? She’d never doubted herself for a second, but now...
“Rex won’t leave her,” Baluka said firmly, her loyalty to her teammates unwavering. “They made a blood contract. He’s bound to her. And I’ll stand by him.”
Rona nodded, her eyes softening slightly. “I know you will. But this war isn’t just about loyalty anymore. It’s about survival. And you’re not just responsible for Rex or anyone else expect yourslef.”
Baluka frowned, unsure where Rona was going with this. “What do you mean?”
Rona reached into her jacket and pulled out a small, metallic badge. Baluka’s heart skipped a beat as she recognized it instantly—a rank badge, higher than anything she’d ever imagined wearing.
“You’ve been promoted, Baluka,” Rona said, her voice taking on an official tone. “I’ve disbanded most of the elite forces, leaving only six other spots in the ranks. You’re one of them now. Rank Sixth.”
Baluka stared at the badge in disbelief. She had always considered herself a soldier, part of the team, nothing more. To be promoted like this, to be given such responsibility... it felt overwhelming.
“Why me?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Rona smiled, her expression filled with pride. “Because you’ve earned it. Your mastery over your flux energy, your ability to heal yourself in battle—it’s not something just anyone can do. You’ve proven yourself, Baluka. And I trust you.”
Baluka felt her head spinning, the weight of the promotion pressing down on her. This wasn’t just another mission or another battle. This was something far greater, something she wasn’t sure she was ready for.
“I... I don’t know what to say,” she stammered, still trying to wrap her mind around it.
Rona’s smile widened slightly. “You don’t have to say anything. Just don’t pass out on me, alright? I need you alert, soldier.”
Baluka managed a weak laugh, the tension easing just a fraction. “Thank you, ma’am. I won’t let you down.”
“I know you won’t,” Rona replied, her voice warm but serious. “But remember—this is only the beginning. The hard part is yet to come.”
Baluka swallowed hard, the reality of her new role sinking in. The war wasn’t over. Not by a long shot. But now, with this new responsibility, with everything that had happened in Tokyo and the battles still to come, she knew one thing for sure.
She was ready.
Or at least, she would be.