The hangar bay hummed with life as shuttles zipped in and out, their engines whirring in a mechanical symphony. Nathaniel Hayes stood at the edge of the observation platform, watching the endless bustle of Phoenix Station. Below, engineers shouted over the roar of turbines, soldiers marched in formation, and crates of supplies were loaded for the next mission.
Yet, even amid the chaos, Hayes felt still.
The conversation with Reese replayed in his mind. The footage from Titan. The boy with the rifle. The mother shielding her wounded child.
“You’re more than a hammer.”
Hayes clenched his jaw, Reese’s words digging deep. He had been trying to drown them out—burying himself in training drills, briefings, and simulated combat—but they refused to leave.
“Sergeant Hayes.”
The sharp voice cut through his thoughts. Turning, Hayes saw Lieutenant Foster approaching.
“The General wants you in the exhibit hall,” Foster said. “They’ve finished the reconstruction.”
“What reconstruction?” Hayes asked, frowning.
“You’ll see.” Foster smirked, turning on his heel. “They’ve gone all out for this one.”
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The exhibit hall was overwhelming.
It wasn’t just a display of military history—it was a temple to patriotism. Holographic banners rippled along the walls, showcasing the URT flag in motion. Displays lit up with footage from humanity’s wars: Normandy, Saigon, Kabul, and beyond.
At the center of the room, a glowing timeline charted the rise of the United Republic of Terra. It spun a clear narrative: war, sacrifice, and unyielding progress.
Hayes walked slowly, taking it all in. His boots echoed against the marble floor as he passed sections dedicated to iconic battles.
World War II. The War on Terror. The Lunar Conflict of 2089.
And then, his eyes landed on the newest addition: The Pacific Mirage War.
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A towering bronze statue dominated the center of the exhibit. Hayes stopped in his tracks, his stomach twisting.
It was him.
The statue showed Nathaniel Hayes in a heroic pose, rifle raised high, his face hardened with determination. He was depicted mid-charge, standing on a shattered barricade as a flag waved triumphantly behind him. Beneath his feet were the ruins of a battlefield.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
At the base of the statue, an inscription read:
“Nathaniel Hayes: The Iron Will of Freedom. Defender of the Helpless. Guardian of the Flag.”
Hayes stared, his chest tightening. The image was larger than life, meticulously designed to inspire awe. But it wasn’t the man he remembered being.
“No hesitation,” a voice said beside him.
Hayes turned to see General Voss stepping up to stand beside him, her gaze fixed on the statue. “Every angle conveys strength, resilience. It’s perfect.”
Hayes frowned. “It’s not real.”
“It’s the truth that matters,” Voss said simply. “When people see this, they don’t just see you. They see what you stand for.”
“And what’s that?” Hayes asked, his tone sharper than he intended.
“Sacrifice. Loyalty. Unity.” Voss gestured to the holographic display nearby, which depicted a loop of his most famous actions during the Mirage War. “You represent everything the URT strives to be.”
Hayes turned his gaze back to the statue, his fists tightening. “You mean everything the URT wants people to think it is.”
Voss’ smile faded, her tone hardening. “Symbols don’t have the luxury of self-doubt, Sergeant. People don’t want complexity. They want strength. You give them that.”
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The conversation left a bitter taste in Hayes’ mouth as he wandered through the rest of the exhibit.
He stopped in front of a display chronicling the Pacific Mirage War. The holograms depicted his final mission: Operation Tidal Spear. He watched himself through a lens of hero worship—charging through gunfire, shielding his squad, standing tall amid explosions.
The footage was seamless, perfectly edited to sell the story of a flawless hero. But Hayes remembered the truth.
The chaos. The screams. The civilians caught in the crossfire.
And Keene.
Hayes’ throat tightened as memories of Corporal David Keene surfaced. Keene had died protecting refugees during Tidal Spear, a fact that didn’t fit the narrative the URT had crafted. The man who had once been Hayes’ closest ally in the Pacific was little more than a footnote here.
“Quite the production, isn’t it?”
The voice startled him. Hayes turned to see Reese standing a few feet away, her posture casual but her eyes sharp.
“How did you even get in here?” Hayes asked.
Reese smirked. “Let’s just say I have friends in low places. And you’re lucky I do.”
Hayes glanced around the room, wary of the cameras. “This place has eyes everywhere.”
“Relax,” Reese said, pulling a small jamming device from her coat and activating it. The air around them shimmered faintly. “They’ll think you’re having a quiet moment of introspection with your own statue.”
Hayes didn’t smile. “What do you want?”
“I want to know if you’re ready to stop pretending,” Reese said, stepping closer. “You’ve seen it, haven’t you? The cracks in the story they’ve built around you.”
Hayes tensed but didn’t respond.
Reese motioned to the holograms around them. “This isn’t about you, Hayes. It’s about control. The URT doesn’t need a man—they need a symbol they can wield. You’re not here to lead. You’re here to keep everyone else in line.”
“And you think the rebels are better?” Hayes shot back.
“I think they’re the only ones willing to call this for what it is,” Reese countered. “A lie.”
She reached into her coat and handed Hayes a small data chip. “Take this. When you’re ready to dig deeper, plug it into your terminal. But be sure you’re ready for what you’ll find.”
Hayes stared at the chip, his hand closing around it reluctantly.
Reese gave him a faint smile. “You’re not who they want you to be, Hayes. And that’s a good thing.”
Before he could respond, she slipped away, disappearing into the shadows of the hall.
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That night, Hayes sat alone in his quarters.
The data chip lay on the desk in front of him, its metallic surface glinting under the dim light. He thought of Voss, of the statue, of Keene.
He thought of Titan.
Slowly, Hayes picked up the chip and slid it into the terminal. The screen flickered to life, displaying encrypted files that Hayes knew shouldn’t exist.
What he found sent a chill down his spine.