Chapter Text
It is strange, the memories you carry with you over time. I know, logically, I am dreaming. It only makes sense when you consider the fact that I am physically in a cryogenic tube. A last ditch effort, misguided, to protect and save my life. An effort that has led me to two questions that haunt me deeply: Is any life worth saving above others? Is mine truly worth saving?
I am not the perfect hero they think I am. I am a flawed creature, a shattered shell. A soldier forged not just on one battlefield but too many. I know the horror that every commander knows when they are faced with having to sacrifice their own soldiers. I know the fear that every soldier feels right before they make the choice to sacrifice their self. I know the guilt and regret when a warrior must make the call and genocide an entire race in order to protect their own people. I know the ache that comes when faced with the choice between duty and what is right.
I have regrets... fears. I know the solace that the darkness brings, the place where in the quiet you cry and only your pillow is there to comfort you. I know the heartache of loss. I know the memories that the darkness brings. The screams and flashes of memories that never stay in the past. I know the face of war.
There wasn't supposed to be in another war for me. Retired. Nothing but the calm and peace of the ocean in a long forgotten place, away from the rest of the galaxy. The universe has a funny way of finding you when it needs to, even if you do not want to be found. This was a time it needed to. I made a pact, the words of it still haunting my dreams and memories. This was to be our last war.
For him, it was.
Half my soul, keeper of my heart. I can still feel his touch. A kiss. An embrace. A caress. A thousand memories I would happily lose myself to. He knew how to silence the nightmares, to calm the fears that come after a lifetime of battles. I can still hear his voice, gentle despite this being a man that could kill in a thousand different ways. A knowledge in his bright eyes that belied the fact that this man trained from childhood to kill without fear or hesitation.
I remember that final mission, a memory I am certain others wished I could not. I remember his voice over the radio, the knowledge we both shared that he would not make it back. The final goodbye, the first and last time he showed emotion on the field of battle. The final claim of love. The explosion that not only took him, but took half my soul and all of my heart. The tears that fell down my cheeks as I ordered the others to leave, the fear in their eyes as we evacuated the civilians as they realized just how mortal I was. The silence that night as I laid in our bed, alone, tears falling. The regret and pain in red-rimmed, dark eyes staring accusingly back from the mirror, that I was alive and he was not.
I lay in this frozen hell, perhaps a fitting tomb for all the death and chaos of my life laid upon this universe. Despite my enemies trying to kill me, I am still alive. I still remember. I will be the voice of my people when I am set free from this darkness. I will carry their memories. I will be their rage, their hurt, their anger. One oath to our Gods, an oath I will remember unto my last breath in this universe. I will hunt the enemy down, one by one if need be. I will destroy lives, worlds, empires. I will walk as death until the last of my enemies pay for taking the light from my life. And in that final moment, maybe I will live again.