He saw visions. Visions of fire, flames, and smoke. Destruction. War. Fleets upon fleets of warships. All kinds of species fighting one another. Within the dark abyss of deep space, all hell broke loose. He saw many worlds. Continents. Cities. All ruined and devastated. Then, a familiar world. The mountain ranges, the diverging rivers, the purple plains. It was all the same as he remembered. It continued. The homes and buildings he recognized.
It was a ruin.
He saw his buildings turned to rubble, corpses of his kin laid dead on their streets. Moonlight shone upon the robots and grotesque creatures that he has never seen, roaming the lands and hunting down anyone with silver hair, brightly coloured eyes and shards of metal embedded on their body.
A nightmare. His nightmare, made real.
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He saw screaming fathers, mothers, and children, running away from death and destruction. Their screams fell on deaf ears as their murderers slaughtered them without an ounce of mercy. Their cries of help echoed inside his mind as the scene repeated over and over, etching itself into his brain.
He can’t stay here. Not anymore. Fighting a useless war where nobody but The Empire will win. Where was The Empire? They were nothing but a bunch of bastards and scumbags, but they had enough reasons to protect his planet. Were they dead? What kind of army does it take to defeat them? Were there any survivors among his people? Can he save them?
He needed to go back. The Empire hadn’t contacted him for four years. Maybe that was the time they started fighting. He doesn’t know how much power The Empire has left, but if they were too busy to contact him, then maybe the route to his home planet was safe enough.
He doesn’t know anything about the situation. He might be falling into a trap, he doesn’t know. But he couldn’t stand still. What the medallion showed him was real, he was sure of it.
There was no time to waste.
He must go back.