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Chapter 44: Wake (1)

Author note: Hi guys and gals, I'd appreciate it if you could leave a review and a comment. Yerrr. 

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- Alexander -

I stood at the edge of the destruction, my eyes scanning the ruins of Pandora. The remnants of what had once been homes, shops, lives—all now crumbled beneath the weight of Vladoff's attack.

The Sheilds protecting the inner city were shattered almost immediately upon impact from Vladoffs star cruisers. 

The air still smelled of burning metal and scorched earth, a bitter reminder of what had transpired. The survivors, those who had barely escaped with their lives, stared at me with eyes full of something far more dangerous than fear. It was hatred, cold and unrelenting.

They wanted war.

The Pandorans had always been tough, but this... this was different. The attack had shattered whatever hope they had for peace. The children, once filled with a reckless curiosity, now hungered for destruction. Their eyes burned with the same fury as their parents, the desire for vengeance transforming them. It wasn't just about survival anymore—it was about blood. The planet had become a powder keg, and I was holding the match.

Blood, ash and iron, the smell of the tar and the sickening shadows of failure were apparent. It wasn't foreign to see corpses amongst the rubble much less children wretched in despair. 

I turned away from the destruction and walked toward the base, each step crunching against the broken ground. The weight of what had happened settled heavier on my shoulders with every movement. Mordecai and Brick had returned from their scouting missions earlier today, and their faces had told the story before their words ever could.

"Jeremiah," I called over my shoulder. The sound of my voice felt too loud, too sharp in the silence that hung over the base. "Bring them in."

Jeremiah, ever stoic in his power armor, nodded once and disappeared into the command center. His dual miniguns gleamed, still fresh from battle. Even as he vanished, I could sense the tension in the air—the weight of what was coming. I could feel the stares of the surviving Pandorans. They were waiting for something, for me to tell them it was time. Time to burn everything Vladoff stood for to the ground.

Mordecai and Brick trudged into the command room moments later. Brick, usually full of bravado, was silent, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles were white. Mordecai's usual aloofness had been replaced with a look of grim determination. They had seen the carnage first-hand, had walked through the devastation just like me.

I didn't waste time with formalities. There was no point. "We've lost thousands and possibly scarred a million," I said, my voice sharp, cutting through the tension. "Civilians. Soldiers. Innocents."

Brick slammed a fist down on the table, causing it to rattle. "They hit us with no warning! No damn reason!"

"They had a reason," came Jeremiah's voice, calm as ever, though there was an underlying bite to it. "Vladoff attacked Igneous first. Mistakenly, perhaps, but the arrogance of their leadership cost them, and now, they've escalated. This wasn't retaliation. It was a show of power, of arrogance. They believe themselves untouchable."

I glanced at the hologram map flickering in the middle of the room. Pandora was no longer just a home—it was a battlefield. The war had come to us, and I would see to it that Pandora rose from the ashes stronger than ever. But first, the planet itself needed to change.

"Recruitment starts now," I said, my voice brokering no argument. "We're doubling the workforce, focusing every ounce of effort into preparing for the war that's coming. Pandorans will rise, not just as warriors but as survivors. Those who want war will get it. We'll need every able body ready for what's next."

"But we've done so much also, sir..." Jeremiah voiced.

"We shall start beginning further campaigns beyond Pandora. A new project shall begin, our soldiers shall be reborn under the pits of Pandora's furnaces... Our planet needs more than just able men and women..." I explained.

The room was silent as the weight of my words settled. This was no ordinary call to arms. This was the start of something much bigger, and the planet itself would need to change along with it.

I stepped out onto the balcony overlooking the ruined landscape. The sand, once a signature feature of Pandora, felt out of place now. The very ground beneath us needed to evolve. The air felt heavy with the weight of Aether energy that crackled at my fingertips. A volatile force, Aether wasn't just a weapon—it was the key to unlocking Pandora's future. The very atmosphere buzzed with its presence, coursing through the planet like blood through veins.

With a slow, deliberate movement, I extended my hand toward the horizon. I could feel the energy thrumming within me, alive and wild. I'd learned how to control it over time, though it still fought me, an unpredictable force capable of reshaping worlds. And now, that's exactly what I needed it to do.

Aether energy had the unique ability to alter molecules, to change the very nature of matter at a fundamental level. The volatile nature of it made it unpredictable, but I had become one with it. As I focused, the sand beneath us began to shift. Slowly at first, the grains seemed to vibrate, moving in unnatural patterns. Then, the shift began in earnest.

The sand started to compact, transforming into dense, fertile soil. It spread in waves, covering the landscape as far as the eye could see. I could feel the molecules bending, changing beneath the force of the Aether. Glaciers far in the north were forced to release moisture, the water molecules drawn into the air and forming clouds overhead. Slowly, the first drops of rain began to fall, mixing with the newly formed soil.

The natural fauna of Pandora would be forced to adapt and evolve alongside the changes in the environment. The mutations would come quickly, powered by the raw Aether energy that now surged through the planet's ecosystem. I knew it was dangerous—Aether's volatile properties had the potential to cause uncontrolled mutations. But that was a risk I was willing to take. We needed Pandora to be stronger. And strength always comes with a price.

The rain fell harder now, soaking the newly formed earth. The clouds I had forced into existence continued to swell, driven by the Aether's energy. Every drop of rain was a testament to the new Pandora I was creating. The soil, enriched by the volatile power, would be fertile for crops, and the beasts of Pandora would soon grow larger, and more resilient. Everything would evolve.

Before, such a paradigm would be left open with a scoff the mere idea of unleashing such power to alter the new fauna a muse... but now was not the time for such ideals, the planet needed to change on a fundamental level. Pandora would no longer be known as the barren wastes of the universe.

I would forge it into my crucible. 

With such death and destruction it left many capsules of Aether to be formed, the leftover energy enough for such a change in the world.

Mordecai and Brick stood behind me, silent witnesses to the transformation. Jeremiah, his towering form always lurking in the background, simply nodded. He knew what this meant. This was only the beginning.

I would rebuild Pandora from the ground up. Every stone, every grain of sand, every life that was lost today—I would ensure it all had meaning. The Pandorans who now thirsted for war, for revenge, would get what they wanted. I would give them the tools, the weapons, the power they needed to see it through.

But it wasn't just about vengeance. I had plans far beyond this war, plans that would see Pandora rise as something far greater than just a battleground, with the centre being myself at its core. 

As the rain continued to fall, I reached out with the Aether energy, feeling it course through me, reshaping the world beneath my hands. The power was immense, raw, and dangerous, but I could control it. I would shape Pandora into something stronger, and more powerful.

And when I was done, Vladoff would see the full extent of what they had awakened.

Pandora would not fall. It would rise. And when it did, the universe would feel it.

But first, I would need to deal with the immediate threat. My eyes flicked toward the horizon where the remnants of the Vladoff fleet hovered in the distance. They were already retreating, licking their wounds from the failed attack. The ships that had lingered further from Pandora's atmosphere were saved.

Jeremiah stepped forward, his hulking form casting a shadow over the room. His dual miniguns rested easily at his sides, but I knew they were ready to spring into action at a moment's notice.

"Shall we send a message?" Jeremiah's voice was as calm as ever, but I could sense the underlying anticipation. He wanted to strike back.

"No... I have already done enough talking... Now... Now is the time for action.." 

---

Two months had passed since that day, and in that time, Tina had changed. She was no longer the trembling girl I had pulled from the chaos, though she still held on to her hatred like a blade she refused to put down. I could see it in her eyes—the desire for revenge, the need to prove herself. 

She stood in front of me now, weapon in hand, her small frame rigid with determination. The makeshift training ground around us was a far cry from the polished arenas of old, but it served its purpose. Scattered debris from the recent battles had become obstacles, and the broken-down husks of machines were now targets for her practice. 

I handed her a pistol, heavy in her small hands. "Steady your grip," I instructed, watching as she adjusted, trying to hold the weapon properly. She was strong for her age—stronger than most would have expected—but she still had much to learn. And I wasn't going to coddle her. 

Her first shot went wide, ricocheting off a piece of metal scrap. She cursed under her breath, a flash of frustration crossing her face.

"You missed." I pointed out, my tone neutral, watching her as she lowered the gun. "Again."

Tina huffed, annoyed. "I know, I know! I'm tryin'!" Her voice had that edge of impatience I'd come to expect, a mixture of youth and a mind far older than it had any right to be.

I stepped behind her, placing my hands over hers, guiding the grip properly. "You're aiming with anger, not precision. Focus on the target, not the feeling." I adjusted her stance. "Relax. Breathe."

She took a deep breath, her body shifting with the correction. I stepped back. 

The second shot hit closer, clipping the edge of the target.

"Better," I said. "But not good enough. When you're fighting, the target doesn't stand still. It moves, it fights back. You hesitate like this in battle, and you're dead."

Tina's eyes flicked up to me, defiant. "I won't hesitate."

"Oh?" I raised an eyebrow, crossing my arms. "You sure about that?"

Before she could answer, I lunged forward, swinging my spear low. She barely managed to sidestep, her instincts taking over, but it wasn't enough. I swept her legs out from under her, and she hit the ground with a thud, the pistol slipping from her hand.

"That was hesitation," I said flatly, standing over her.

Tina grunted, pushing herself up, glaring at me. "You didn't say we were starting!"

"The enemy doesn't give you a warning," I replied. "Get up. Again."

She stood, dusting herself off, grabbing the pistol once more. Her eyes narrowed, and this time, she was ready. I swung again, but she ducked, rolling to the side and taking a quick shot that barely grazed the target. 

I smiled, despite myself. "Better. But you still hesitated."

Tina let out a frustrated growl, throwing the pistol aside. "How am I supposed to fight you with a gun when you've got that stupid spear?"

I tilted my head slightly, stepping closer to her. "Then don't use the gun. Fight me."

Her eyes widened, a flash of uncertainty crossing her face. She was small—fragile in some ways—but there was fire in her. I could see it. 

"Come on, Terror," I said, using the name she'd started to earn among the soldiers. "Show me what you've got."

Tina clenched her fists, her expression hardening. Without a word, she rushed me, aiming low, trying to knock me off balance. I blocked her easily, catching her arm and spinning her to the ground once again.

"You're too predictable," I said, stepping back. "Your attacks are fueled by emotion, not strategy."

"I'll get you," she muttered, pushing herself up again.

"I'm sure you will," I replied with a slight smirk. "But not today."

She glared at me, but there was something else in her eyes—a spark of determination. She didn't just want to fight; she wanted to prove herself. And that was something I could work with.

We continued for hours, her attacks becoming more focused, her movements quicker. Each time she fell, she got up without complaint, wiping away the dirt and blood from her hands. There was no quit in her, no surrender. She reminded me of myself in some ways—relentless, unyielding.

"Your father taught you anything useful?" I asked during a break, watching as she wiped the sweat from her forehead.

Tina frowned, her face darkening. "He taught me how to survive. That's all that matters."

I nodded. "Surviving isn't enough. Not anymore."

She looked up at me, her expression hardening again. "I'm not just gonna survive. I'm gonna win."

I allowed a small smile. "Good. But winning doesn't come from brute force. It comes from control."

I lunged at her again, this time slower, giving her time to react. She dodged, quicker now, and countered with a punch aimed at my side. It was sloppy, but it was progress.

"Control your emotions," I reminded her, blocking the punch and stepping back. "Anger will only get you so far. Focus on your goal. Every action should serve that."

She nodded, taking a deep breath, resetting her stance. I could see the shift in her—she was learning, adapting. But more importantly, she was listening.

We continued, the sun beginning to set, casting long shadows over the training ground. Tina's body was battered, bruised from the countless times she'd hit the ground, but she never complained. 

"You're getting better," I said finally, after knocking her down one last time. "But you've still got a long way to go."

She groaned, lying on her back, staring up at the sky. "Yeah, yeah... I'll get there."

I looked down at her, offering her a hand. She hesitated for a moment, then took it, letting me pull her up. 

"You're ruthless, you know that?" she muttered, dusting herself off.

"Ruthless keeps you alive," I replied, my tone serious. "And you're going to need that if you want to survive in this world."

Tina looked up at me, her expression softer now. "You think I can do it?"

I raised an eyebrow. "You wouldn't be here if I didn't."

A small smile tugged at her lips. "Thanks... I think."

I smirked, patting her on the shoulder. "Now, go get some rest. We start again at dawn."

Tina nodded, exhaustion clear in her eyes, but there was a fire there too—a determination that wouldn't be snuffed out. As she walked away, I watched her go, knowing that one day, she would be a force to be reckoned with. 

For now, though, she was still learning. And I was still teaching. But soon enough, the roles would blur. Soon enough, she would become the terror she was destined to be.

As Tina left to catch some well-deserved rest, I found myself standing alone in the desolate training ground, the last rays of sunlight casting long shadows over the wreckage. The place was a mess—scorched earth, twisted metal, and shattered remains of structures that had once stood tall before the Vladoff assault. The silence that followed the battle was almost unnerving, but it was a silence that carried weight.

The sound of boots crunching over rubble signaled Jeremiah's arrival. As always, he moved with an almost mechanical precision, his massive frame clad in the hulking power armor he rarely removed. The dual miniguns on his back gleamed in the dim light, and for a moment, the sight reminded me of how fortunate we had been to repel the Vladoff forces with such strength. Jeremiah was a weapon in his own right, cold, calculating, and efficient.

"Sir," Jeremiah's voice was gruff but respectful, the weight of the recent events still hanging in the air between us. "The bots are ready to begin repairs on this area. The Constructor units can have this place rebuilt within the hour."

I looked around the ruined training ground, my eyes lingering on the broken walls and crumbled platforms where my soldiers had fought and fallen. My gaze hardened, and I shook my head. "No. Let it stay as it is."

Jeremiah looked at me, his expression hidden beneath his visor but his stance shifting slightly in curiosity. "You're sure? The training facilities are essential. We'll need them operational again."

"This place should remain as it is," I said firmly, crossing my arms. "This is a reminder of our failure to protect Ironhold. Let it stand as a testament to the lives lost, to the damage we allowed to happen. We need that reminder."

Jeremiah gave a slow nod. "Understood. The men will respect your decision."

He paused for a moment before continuing, pulling a data tablet from his side and glancing over the latest reports. "Recruitment is at an all-time high," he began. "Pandorans and mercenaries from off-world have been flooding in. Everyone wants a piece of Vladoff. The Crusade has brought in fighters from Elpis, from the far colonies, even from Atlas territories. Word of what happened here spread quickly."

"And Salvador?" I asked, already suspecting the answer. The Spanish man was as interesting as he was crazy. 

"He's arrived," Jeremiah confirmed, his voice taking on a more neutral tone. "He's willing to offer his assistance due to your prior engagements with him. Said something about owing you, though I'm sure he's here because he wants to kill some Vladoff soldiers."

Salvador. The gunzerker had always been an unpredictable force, but his presence would no doubt be a boon in the coming conflicts. If there was anyone who could make use of the weapons we were producing en masse, it was him.

"Let him do what he does best," I said, already anticipating the chaos he would unleash.

Jeremiah nodded, swiping through more reports on the tablet. "On another note, weapon production is continuing smoothly. We've expanded our factories, and sales are through the roof. Everyone wants Vladoff tech or anything that can match it. We're mass-producing weapons faster than ever, and our new prototypes are performing well. The revenue is... considerable."

Good. The arms trade had always been profitable, but now it was more than that. It was survival. The more weapons we sold, the stronger our alliances became. It was all part of the larger plan.

"And Pandora?" I asked my tone low. "What's the status of the terraforming?"

Jeremiah's expression—what little I could see of it through his visor—shifted slightly. "The planet is changing," he said. "Your... influence is spreading. The sand is turning to dirt, and new plant life is taking root. The fauna is evolving, and adapting to the new environment. The natural balance is being altered."

I could feel it, the subtle pull of my power at work, the manipulation of Aether energy transforming Pandora. The volatile energy coursed through the very molecules of the planet, creating life where there had been only death and decay. It was a slow process, but it was working. The rains were coming more frequently now, the arid deserts beginning to bloom with new life, the harsh terrain softening under my influence.

"We've begun constructing new roads," Jeremiah continued, "connecting the cities to the factories. Infrastructure is being built rapidly, and it won't be long before we have a functioning system in place. The world is modernizing faster than anyone thought possible. Elpis and Pandora are becoming centres of industry, trade, and agriculture."

I nodded. The transformation of the planet was essential—not just for survival, but for control. A modern Pandora would be harder for Vladoff to strike, harder for any enemy to dismantle. We were building something that could last, something that would withstand the chaos that had consumed this world for so long.

"And what of the civilians?" I asked, knowing the answer would not be pleasant.

Jeremiah hesitated. "The survivors... they're angry. They're calling for blood. The Vladoff attack left a scar on the people, and now there's a deep-seated hatred for anyone associated with them. Mass funerals are still being held. There are talks of more Crusades, of wiping out anyone who even looks like they might be affiliated with Vladoff."

I closed my eyes briefly. The hunger for war had always been a part of Pandora's culture, but now it was consuming the population. They wanted vengeance, and nothing short of total destruction would satisfy them. Children were being raised not with the idea of peace, but with a thirst for bloodshed.

"Prejudice will only grow," I said quietly. "We'll need to control that. The Crusades may serve a purpose, but we can't let the people lose sight of the bigger picture."

Jeremiah nodded. "Understood. We'll keep it under control. For now, though, recruitment is strong. And with our current resources, we can afford to keep expanding. Factories are being built, agriculture is on the rise, and the flora and fauna are being harvested and mass-produced. We're creating an ecosystem that can sustain itself."

He glanced up from the tablet, his visor catching the last light of the setting sun. "Pandora and Elpis are changing, sir. We're creating something new. Something powerful."

"Powerful enough to challenge Vladoff," I said, my voice low.

"Yes," Jeremiah agreed. "And more."

I looked out over the horizon, where the factories in the distance belched smoke into the sky, and the ground beneath my feet continued to shift, transforming under the weight of the Aether energy that flowed through me. This was just the beginning.

"Make sure the people know," I said, turning back to Jeremiah. "This world is changing. And we are the ones making it happen. The Crusade will come, but first, we build. We grow. We make sure that when Vladoff returns, they won't recognise the world they tried to destroy."

Jeremiah gave a curt nod. "As you command."

As he turned to leave, I looked around the training ground once more, the remnants of the battle still scattered across the dirt. This place would remain as it was—a reminder of what we had lost, and of what we would never allow to happen again.

And when Vladoff returned, I would be ready. We would all be ready. 

But for now, the future was being forged, one weapon, one factory, one new life at a time. The fires of Pandora were burning, and they would burn brighter than ever before.

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