A general born to rule

The Reunion and talk

As the doors fully opened, Marcus's heart skipped a beat. Standing there, in a sharp white uniform with the insignia of an alliance general, was none other than their old friend from their past life—a man they had both fought alongside in a war that had cost them everything. He’d died back then, just like they had. But here he was, alive and seemingly thriving.

The man, tall and still with that unmistakable spark of intensity in his eyes, took one look at Marcus and Sam before breaking into a grin. “Well, if it isn’t the ghosts themselves,” he said, his voice warm with disbelief. “Marcus! Sam! Is it really you two, alive and kicking?”

Marcus couldn’t help but grin back. “Yeah, I’d ask you the same, but... here we all are.” They moved toward each other, shaking hands, though it quickly turned into a fierce hug, the kind only shared by brothers-in-arms who’d seen too many battles together. Sam joined in, clapping the man on the back, and for a moment, it was as though no time had passed.

“Where do I even start?” the man laughed as they pulled apart, looking both of them over with pride. “It’s been ages since I saw a familiar face. Been ruling this empire as ‘General Reynard’ for as long as I can remember here. And judging by those uniforms and your entourage, you two haven’t been idle either.”

Marcus chuckled, the reunion softening the serious edge he usually carried. “We’ve been up to a lot. I mean, how could we not when we woke up in a world like this?”

Reynard motioned for them to sit, gesturing to an elegant seating area in the grand hall. They settled in, their allies taking respectful positions nearby, still wary of the unfamiliar surroundings.

As they began to share their stories, Marcus explained the growth of Valorcrest, the lizardmen alliance, and the industrial advancements they’d brought with them. He mentioned the many kingdoms they’d encountered, the cultures they’d observed, and then, with a tone that turned sharp, he added, “But the slavery, Reynard. It’s everywhere here. The trade hub we passed through before reaching here—nearly every kingdom seems to be in on it. They’re treating demi-humans, even children, as little more than property.”

Sam nodded, his expression darkening. “Everywhere we go, we see people—dwarves, elves, demi-humans of all kinds—chained and sold like they’re commodities. And not just in remote villages. Entire nations are built on it.”

Reynard’s face fell as he listened, a shadow crossing his features. “I know,” he said, his tone softer. “My empire… when I took over, slavery was woven into the very fabric of this society. But I’ve been working to change things, piece by piece, and it’s… slow.” He paused, looking at Marcus and Sam with a hint of guilt. “I always thought I’d find a way to fix it, but it’s not as easy as we hoped.”

Marcus studied him closely. “So, you’ve been doing what you can, then?”

Reynard nodded, looking relieved that they understood. “Exactly. My hands are tied to some extent, but I’ve been finding ways to make slavery less profitable here. Little by little, people are starting to see that their workers are worth more as citizens, as individuals.” He shook his head, the weight of it all visible. “But I won’t lie; it’s not the transformation I’d like it to be. Seeing you both here gives me hope, though. Maybe together, we can find a way to finally shift things in a big way.”

The three exchanged glances, a shared understanding forming between them. The past had bonded them, but here in this strange new world, they had a chance to shape the future.

As they settled into the plush chairs around the ornate table, Marcus leaned forward, curiosity in his gaze. “Reynard, there’s something I’ve wanted to ask since I saw you. Back then, you were supposed to be all the way back at command. How did you… you know…”