The Safe Zone - Ascension (Book 4)

Chapter 24: Ethan's Legacy

The days had begun to blur together, each a reminder of the immense task before us. Rebuilding a world torn apart by the Directive couldn't be accomplished overnight—or even in a generation. But there was progress. Little by little, we were finding a way to survive, to create something new from the wreckage of the old.

Still, it wasn't easy. Every corner of this shattered world held memories of what we had lost. Cities that had once been centers of commerce and life were now desolate ruins, overgrown and abandoned. The people we had fought for were scattered and fractured, their trust in each other and leadership eroded by years of fear and oppression. But for all the destruction, there were signs of life emerging, stubborn and resilient, determined to rise from the ashes.

As I walked through the small camp we had set up near what used to be the Directive's central headquarters, I saw glimpses of what this new world could be—children playing among the makeshift homes, their laughter a fragile but beautiful sound. Adults worked side by side, constructing shelters, tilling the soil for crops, and sharing what little they had. For the first time in years, there was something more than survival—there was hope.

But that hope came with a price. And that price haunted me every day.

Ethan's face was etched into my memory, his final moments replaying repeatedly in my mind like a broken loop. I had tried to move forward and honor his sacrifice, but the weight of his absence was like a stone lodged deep in my chest. I missed him. God, I missed him so much it hurt. And no matter how many lives we saved or the small victories we claimed in this new beginning, it never felt like enough because Ethan wasn't here to see it.

"Lena?"

Carter's voice broke through my thoughts, and I turned to see him walking toward me, his expression soft but filled with concern. He had been my constant companion in the days since the fall of the Directive, always there when I needed him, offering strength when I felt I had none left.

"You okay?" he asked, stopping beside me.

I gave a slight nod, though it felt like a lie. "I'm fine. Just thinking."

"About Ethan?" he guessed, his voice gentle.

I didn't answer immediately. Instead, I looked out over the camp, watching as the people we had saved—the people Ethan had died to protect—moved about their lives, unaware of the ghost that haunted me.

"Every day," I finally said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I think about him every day."

Carter sighed, his gaze following mine. "He would have wanted you to keep going, Lena. He would have wanted you to lead these people, to give them a chance at the life he sacrificed everything for."

"I know," I replied, my throat tightening. "But it doesn't make it any easier."

He didn't say anything else; he just stood beside me, offering the kind of quiet support that had become his hallmark in the wake of everything that had happened. Carter had been my rock in the storm, the one person who could shoulder some of the burden, but even he couldn't lift the grief that clung to me like a second skin.

"Lena!"

The sudden voice, high-pitched and urgent, made me turn sharply. One of the tech engineers we had recruited—Marian, a young woman with a knack for salvaging old systems—was running toward us, her face flushed and eyes wide with excitement and disbelief.

"What is it?" I asked, a strange sense of dread curling in my stomach.

"I... I think you need to come to the tech tent," she said, breathless from running. "There's something you need to see."