THE WAR THAT FOLLOWED ME

CHAPTER 5: AFTER THE FIRE FELL SILENT

Silence came first.

Not peace—just the absence of sound so complete it felt unnatural, as if the city itself had stopped breathing.

Kade Reyes was dimly aware of falling.

Wind tore past him, hot at first, then cold. The sky above burned white as the Siege Mech’s redirected explosion ripped upward, punching a hole through cloud and atmosphere. The blast didn’t roar—it screamed, a column of light vanishing into space.

Then darkness swallowed everything.

A City Still Standing

Kade woke to pain.

It was dull, constant, everywhere. The kind that told him he was alive when he very much wished he wasn’t.

He lay on cracked pavement beneath a half-collapsed overpass. Smoke drifted lazily through the air. Fires still burned in the distance, but the screaming was gone.

Too quiet.

He tried to move.

His body responded slowly, clumsily—like something that hadn’t been used in a long time.

“What…?” he rasped.

No voice answered.

Inside his mind, there was nothing.

No whisper.

No probabilities.

No cold, calculating presence.

The relic was gone.

Panic flared in his chest. He reached inward instinctively, grasping for the familiar pressure that had lived in his thoughts for years.

Nothing answered.

For the first time since the war, Kade was alone inside his own head.

He laughed weakly, the sound turning into a cough. “Guess… you weren’t bluffing.”

He forced himself upright.

The street was unrecognizable. The Siege Mech was gone—reduced to molten wreckage fused into the road. Buildings nearby bore scorch marks but still stood. Farther away, emergency lights flickered as survivors emerged from hiding.

Sector Nine had been spared.

The city still lived.

But Kade felt smaller than he ever had.

Mila Finds Him

“Kade!”

The voice cut through the haze like a lifeline.

He turned just as Mila Okoye ran toward him, skidding to a stop and dropping to her knees beside him. Her face was smeared with soot, one sleeve torn, but her eyes—

Her eyes were furious.

“You absolute idiot,” she said, voice shaking. “Do you have any idea what you just did?”

Kade smiled faintly. “Saved a district.”

She slapped his chest—not hard, but enough to sting. “You almost died.”

“Still working on that.”

Her hands hovered over him, unsure where to touch. “Your vitals went dark. Every sensor we had lost you. I thought...”

She stopped, swallowed.

Kade saw it then—not relief alone, but fear. Real, raw fear.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

Mila shook her head. “No. Don’t. Not for this.”

She helped him sit properly. “The blast went clean. Civilians are alive. The Mech’s gone. And for the first time since the invasion…”

She looked up at the skyline.

“…the Vaelith pulled back.”

That got his attention. “They retreated?”

“Not fully,” she said. “But they stopped advancing. Like they’re… reassessing.”

Kade frowned.

Without the relic, he felt blind. No insight. No certainty.

Just instinct.

And instinct told him this wasn’t over.

The Cost of Being Human

They moved him to a temporary shelter inside an old transit hub. Medics worked quickly, patching burns, stabilizing fractures. Nothing life-threatening but without the relic, his healing was painfully slow.

Every breath reminded him of what he’d lost.

Rashid arrived an hour later, limping, blood dried along his temple.

“You saved them,” Rashid said simply.

Kade looked away. “I chose.”

Rashid studied him. “That’s what makes it matter.”

Around them, survivors shared food, wrapped the injured, comforted children. The city hadn’t fallen into panic—it had adapted.

Humans always did.

Mila sat beside Kade, quieter now. “The council’s furious. They wanted you extracted the moment your signal spiked.”

“Let me guess,” Kade said. “They still do.”

She nodded. “They see you as a liability now.”

“Good.”

She gave him a sharp look. “Kade.”

“I’m serious. Without the relic, I’m not their weapon anymore.”

“And without it,” she countered softly, “you’re vulnerable.”

That was the truth he couldn’t escape.

The relic had made him powerful.

Humanity had made him responsible.

The lights flickered.

Every screen in the hub crackled to life at once.

Mila stood instantly. “That’s not our system.”

A symbol appeared on the displays—alien, angular, pulsing faintly.

Then a voice filled the room.

Not the relic.

Not the commander from before.

Something older.

“Kade Reyes.”

The temperature dropped.

Civilians backed away as the air itself seemed to vibrate.

“You severed the governor,” the voice continued. “You disrupted balance.”

Kade slowly rose to his feet, heart pounding. “If you’re here to threaten us, get in line.”

A ripple of what might have been amusement passed through the sound.

“No. I am here to inform you.”

The symbol fractured, rearranging into a star map.

“The Vaelith do not retreat from loss,” the voice said. “They retreat from uncertainty.”

Mila whispered, “Kade…”

“You introduced chaos,” the entity continued. “And chaos invites attention.”

The map zoomed out—far beyond Earth.

Dozens of signals ignited.

Other forces.

Other watchers.

“Your war,” the voice said, “has just expanded.”

The screens went dark.

Silence returned—but this time, it was heavier.

Mila looked at Kade, eyes wide. “What did you do?”

He exhaled slowly.

“For the first time,” he said, “I chose without knowing the outcome.”

Rashid clenched his fists. “And now?”

Kade looked at the people around him. The city that still stood. The future that no longer obeyed rules.

“Now,” he said, voice steady despite the fear in his chest, “we fight without gods, without weapons that think for us.”

Mila smiled faintly. “Just humans?”

Kade nodded.

“And whatever comes next.”

Outside, far above the city, something ancient turned its gaze toward Earth.

And this time...

There would be no predictions.