The guild hall was uncharacteristically silent, the usual hum of activity replaced by a somber stillness. Ethan stepped into the chamber, his boots echoing softly against the polished floors. Holographic pedestals lined the room, each displaying a flickering image of a fallen mercenary. Lyra's hologram, her face set in determined confidence, stood among them.
At the far end of the hall, a towering memorial wall etched with names reflected the soft amber glow of the room's lights. Ethan's gaze lingered on Lyra's name, freshly inscribed alongside others who had fallen in service to the guild.
Guild members filled the chamber, standing in silent clusters or seated in the few rows of chairs. Some clutched personal mementos, while others simply bowed their heads. Ethan moved to the back, his presence unobtrusive as he observed the scene.
The Branch Master, Darrik Voss, stood at a central podium, his weathered features illuminated by the holograms. His deep voice broke the silence, commanding attention.
"Today, we gather to honor those who gave their lives in the fight against the Syndicate," Voss began, his tone steady but heavy with emotion. "They were more than just mercenaries. They were friends, comrades, and protectors of those who cannot protect themselves."
He gestured to the holograms behind him. "Each name on this wall represents a story, a life cut short but not forgotten. Their sacrifices remind us of the stakes we face, and their courage fuels our resolve to press on."
The room remained still as Voss spoke, his words resonating with those present.
A veteran mercenary stepped forward, his armor polished but worn with the marks of countless battles. "Lyra," he began, his voice steady, "wasn't just a skilled fighter. She was someone who stood for the principles we all strive for, protecting the innocent and never backing down, no matter the odds. She inspired those around her, and her loss is a reminder of why we fight."
Ethan felt a pang of guilt as the words echoed in his mind. He'd only known Lyra for a few days, but her death weighed on him heavily. He thought of her last moments, urging him to finish the mission, her life claimed by the mind-control weapon Xelthar had unleashed.
As the ceremony concluded, the room began to stir with quiet conversations. Ethan lingered by the back wall, his gaze fixed on Lyra's hologram. He felt a presence beside him and turned to see Kael, the guild's secretary. The older man's lined face was calm, his sharp eyes carrying the weight of years of experience.
Kael folded his arms, speaking in a low voice. "Loss like this... it doesn't get easier, Ethan. But it's part of what we do. We fight because someone has to, and sometimes that means burying the people we fight beside."
Ethan nodded slowly, his throat tightening. "I know. I just-" He paused, searching for the right words. "I keep wondering if I could've done more. If I'd been faster or smarter, maybe she'd still be here."
Kael shook his head. "As i told you before, you'll drive yourself mad thinking that way. Lyra made her choice to fight, just like we all do. She knew the risks, and she faced them head-on. The best way to honor her isn't to dwell on what could've been, it's to keep fighting for what she believed in."
Kael's voice softened. "Her name's on that wall now, but her legacy? That's in you and everyone else who continues this fight. Don't let her down by losing yourself in guilt."
Before Ethan could respond, Zyrix joined them, his presence as steady as ever. The plasma sniper rifle slung across his back glinted faintly in the room's light.
"Kael's right," Zyrix said bluntly. "Grief's part of the job, Walker. I've lost more allies than I care to count. But you don't let it drown you. You use it. Turn it into focus, drive, whatever keeps you sharp. The minute you let it consume you, the Syndicate wins twice."
Ethan glanced between the two men, their words sinking in. "I hear you," he said quietly, though the weight in his chest remained. "I'll keep moving forward."
Zyrix clapped him on the shoulder, a gesture of solidarity. "Good. You've got what it takes to make a difference. Just remember, this fight isn't about one person. It's about everyone who can't fight for themselves."
As the others moved on, Ethan found himself alone near the memorial wall. He stepped closer, his eyes tracing the names etched into the cold metal. Lyra's name stood out, a painful reminder of how quickly lives could be lost in this unforgiving universe.
His mind wandered to his past life on Earth, a world of monotony and safety. He'd been a simple salaryman, content with the mundane until fate had torn him from that life. Now, standing in a hall dedicated to those who'd fallen in battle, he felt the full weight of how far he'd come.
Ethan placed a hand on the wall, the cool metal grounding him. "I won't forget," he murmured, his voice steady. "And I won't stop."
The memories of the outpost civilians who'd been experimented on, Lyra's final moments, and the Syndicate's cruelty all sharpened his resolve. Revenge still burned within him, but it was no longer the sole reason he fought against the Black Sun Syndicate. Protecting those who couldn't protect themselves, that was his purpose now instead of just survival in a new world.
Kael approached him once more, holding out a datapad. "Your next mission briefing," he said. "Vela Drasik's supply lines are the target. You'll want to study this carefully."
Ethan took the datapad, his grip firm. Kael placed a hand on his shoulder. "You've made it this far because you're good at what you do. Trust yourself and trust the guild. We're behind you."
As Kael walked away, Ethan stepped outside the guild hall. The night sky above Valeris was vast, the stars scattered like distant beacons of light. He stood in the cool air, the weight of grief mingling with a quiet determination.
He wasn't the same man who had first arrived in this universe, and he never would be again. His path was clear, and his resolve was stronger than ever.