THE WAR THAT FOLLOWED ME

CHAPTER 6: THE WORLD WITHOUT PROPHECY

The first thing Kade Reyes learned after losing the relic was fear.

Not the sharp, immediate kind that came with bullets or blades. That fear was simple. Clean. You either survived it or you didn't.

This was different. This was the quiet kind that crept in between breaths, in the spaces where calculations used to be. Fear without answers. Without probability curves to flatten it into manageable risk.

Just fear, raw and human.

He stood on the roof of the transit hub as dawn bled slowly into New Ardent's smog-filled sky. The city looked different in daylight—wounded, scarred, but breathing. Smoke rose from distant districts. Emergency sirens wailed intermittently, like the city calling out to itself just to prove it was still alive.

Kade flexed his fingers.

They shook.

He clenched them into fists, forced the tremor down. Get it together. You chose this.

But choosing didn't make it easier.

"You're compensating too late."

The voice cut through his thoughts like a knife.

Captain Elira Voss stood a few paces away, arms crossed, eyes sharp beneath a mess of tied-back hair. Her city guard uniform was scorched and patched, the insignia half-burned off, but she wore it like armor anyway.

Kade frowned. "I dodged it."

"You survived it," she corrected. "That's not the same thing."

She stepped forward and without warning shoved him hard in the shoulder.

Kade stumbled, barely caught himself before going down.

Elira shook her head. "With the relic, you moved before danger arrived. Now you move after. That hesitation will get you killed."

He straightened slowly, jaw tight. "You volunteer to lecture me?"

"I volunteered to keep you alive," she said flatly. "Because right now, you're a symbol. And symbols die fast."

That stung more than he wanted to admit.

They were training on the rooftop because it was the only open space left intact. No drones. No relic assistance. Just muscle memory and instinct.

And instinct wasn't enough anymore.

Kade lunged at her.

Elira sidestepped, hooked his arm, and threw him onto the concrete with brutal efficiency.

Pain exploded across his back. He lay there for a moment, staring up at the gray sky, breathing hard.

"You fight like you're still waiting for permission," she said, looking down at him. "From the relic. From fate. From something bigger than you."

Kade pushed himself up slowly. "I spent years trusting it."

"And now?"

He hesitated. "Now I don't know who I am without it."

She studied him for a long moment. Then nodded once.

"Good," she said. "That means you're finally human again."

Inside the transit hub, the mood was shifting.

Mila stood before a cluster of holographic displays, coordinating power reroutes, civilian aid, encrypted resistance channels. She hadn't slept. Nobody had.

Rashid leaned against a support pillar nearby, listening as a heated argument erupted over the comms.

"The council wants him detained," one voice barked.

"They're afraid," another replied.

"They should be afraid," a third snapped. "He nearly destabilized the entire planet."

Mila muted the channel with a sharp gesture. "They're circling."

Rashid nodded grimly. "Without the relic, Kade's usefulness dropped. Without prophecy, he's unpredictable. That terrifies people who think they're in charge."

"He saved the city," Mila said.

"That doesn't matter to politicians," Rashid said. "Only control does."

A new alert blinked on Mila's console. Her breath caught.

"Rashid... we've got movement. Not Vaelith."

He straightened. "From where?"

She brought up the star map the entity had shown them earlier. One of the distant signals had moved.

Closer.

Much closer.

Kade felt it before anyone told him.

A pressure in the air. Not alien. Not human. Something else entirely.

Alarms blared across the hub as an unidentified craft slipped through the upper atmosphere—sleek, angular, but nothing like Vaelith design. It didn't attack. It didn't flee.

It just waited.

A transmission cut through all channels at once.

"This is the Envoy Serex of the Axiom Concord."

The voice was calm, genderless, impossibly composed.

"We request parley."

Mila stared at the screen. "They're... not firing."

Rashid's eyes narrowed. "That doesn't mean they're friendly."

Outside, Kade watched the craft hover above the city like a thought given form. Elira joined him, expression grim.

"Have you ever seen tech like that?" she asked.

"No," Kade said. "But I've felt something like it before."

The envoy's image flickered into being above the central plaza—a tall, luminous figure composed of a shifting geometric light. Beautiful in the way a mathematical equation could be beautiful. Cold in the same way.

"Kade Reyes," Serex said, turning its gaze directly toward him despite the distance. "You have disrupted a closed system."

Kade stepped forward. "Good. It was choking us."

A faint ripple passed through the envoy—amusement, maybe, or disdain.

"Your defiance has alerted forces beyond the Vaelith," Serex continued. "Some will observe. Some will intervene. Some will see the opportunity."

"And you?" Kade asked.

"We prefer stability," Serex said. "Which makes you... inconvenient."

The word hung in the air like a threat.

"But," the envoy added after a pause, "also necessary."

Later, in a sealed chamber beneath the hub, the inner circle gathered—Kade, Mila, Rashid, Elira.

"The Axiom Concord maintains balance across multiple civilizations," Mila explained, pulling up what little data they had. "They allowed the Vaelith to operate because the relic kept outcomes predictable. Manageable."

Kade leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. "And I broke their toy."

"Yes," Mila said quietly. "You did."

Rashid exhaled slowly. "So now what? We're caught between invaders and overseers?"

Elira scoffed. "Figures."

The weight of it settled over them like a blanket. Without the relic, Earth wasn't a managed warzone anymore.

It was a wildcard.

Serex's words echoed in Kade's mind. Inconvenient. Necessary.

"They don't want me dead," Kade said slowly, working it out. "They want me controlled."

Mila met his eyes. "And you?"

He thought of the civilians in Sector Nine. The people were still alive because he'd chosen without knowing the outcome. The future that belonged to them now, not to some alien consciousness.

"I don't want anyone deciding our fate for us," he said.

Silence followed.

Then Elira nodded. "Then we're aligned."

Rashid cracked his knuckles. "About time."

A sudden surge of energy rocked the hub. Lights flickered. Displays went haywire.

Mila spun back to her console. "Kade—Vaelith signatures are spiking again. They're not retreating anymore."

The star map lit up like a Christmas tree. Multiple fronts. Multiple factions converging.

And one new signal—deep, ancient, moving fast toward Earth.

Serex's voice returned, colder now.

"The window for neutrality has closed."

Kade rose to his feet, exhausted. No relic. No prophecy. No certainty about what came next.

Just choice.

"Then tell your Concord this," he said, voice steady. "We're done being managed."

The transmission cut out.

Outside, the sky darkened—not with night, but with incoming fire. Vaelith dropships descending. Axiom observers hovering. And something else, something older, breaking through the atmosphere like a falling star.

Elira checked her weapon. "So we're fighting everyone now?"

"Looks like it," Kade said.

Mila brought up the tactical display. "The Vaelith are hitting three sectors simultaneously. They're not trying to capture anymore. They're trying to—"

"Erase us," Rashid finished. "Before we become a bigger problem."

Kade grabbed his Phaseblade, felt its familiar weight. It didn't hum with relic-enhanced power anymore. It was just a blade now. Just a weapon.

Just enough.

"Then we show them," Kade said, "what happens when humans stop being predictable."

He looked at each of them in turn. "No gods. No prophecy. No certainty. Just us, making it up as we go."

Mila smiled despite everything. "Worst plan ever."

"Yeah," Kade agreed. "But it's ours."

The alarms reached a fever pitch. The first explosions lit up the skyline.

And for the first time in the war, humanity would fight not just to survive.

But to decide its own future.

Whatever that means.

Whatever it costs.