Chapter 37: Burden of Fame

Arthur stepped out of the med-bay after helping the wounded soldiers. The dimly lit corridors of the battle station hummed with a quiet intensity, the sound of distant machinery and muffled conversations echoing faintly.

His armor, battered and scarred, will have to be entrusted to the station’s engineers for repair.

As he walked through the metallic halls, soldiers passed him, some offering nods of respect, others a brief word of gratitude.

"Mr. Arthur," a young technician called out from one of the repair stations. He stopped and turned.

"Yeah?"

The technician, barely out of his teens, looked awestruck. "I just wanted to say... what you did out there, it was incredible. You saved a lot of lives. Thank you."

Arthur offered a small, tired smile. "I just did what I had to. Stay safe."

The boy nodded fervently as Arthur resumed his walk, his footsteps steady but heavy.

When he reached the armory, the head engineer, a stocky woman with a no-nonsense attitude, greeted him with a raised eyebrow.

"Arthur," she said, eyeing the damaged armor he carried. "What the hell did you

do

to it? Looks like it got chewed up by a grinder."

"Something like that," he replied, setting the suit down on the workbench. The chest plate was dented, the arm pieces riddled with fractures, and one side of the helmet was completely shattered, revealing the delicate circuits beneath.

The engineer whistled low. "This’ll take some work. Nanites tried their best, but even they couldn’t keep up with the abuse you put it through. You're lucky you didn’t get yourself killed."

Arthur shrugged. "If it’s not fixable, let me know. I’ll have to submit an application for a new one."

She gave him a sharp look, her tone softening slightly. "Don’t be stupid. It’s fixable. I just need time. Might want to consider not punching things that hit back harder than you do, though."

He smirked faintly. "Noted."

As she inspected the armor more closely, she muttered, "You’re a damn mystery, you know that? Most of us would be dead wearing this after what you went through. But you’re walking around like it’s just another day."

Arthur didn’t respond, his gaze drifting to the glowing panels of the workshop.

"You’ll have it back in two days," the engineer said, breaking the silence. "Three, tops."

"Thanks," he said. With a nod of gratitude, he turned and headed toward his quarters.

…

The corridor to the living quarters was quieter, a stark contrast to the bustling central areas. The solitude gave Arthur time to think, though his thoughts were far from comforting.

He couldn’t shake the feeling of the Chimerians’ crystalline armor shattering beneath his fists, the lifeless eyes of the fallen staring back at him in silent accusation. For the first time since the battle, the weight of what he’d done settled heavily on his shoulders.

As he neared his room, the soft hum of the station seemed louder, the silence amplifying his introspection.

"Arthur," a voice called from behind him, breaking his reverie. He turned to see Elena hurrying toward him, her expression a mix of concern and exhaustion.

"Elena," he greeted, his tone neutral but warm.

"Are you okay?" she asked, stopping a few steps away. "I mean, after everything that happened out there…"

He hesitated, searching for the right words. "I’m...doing fine."

She frowned, crossing her arms. "You don’t have to do this alone, you know. What you did out there, it was incredible, but it was also... a lot. No one would blame you if it’s weighing on you."

Arthur sighed, leaning against the wall of his room. "It’s not just the battle. The killing, the responsibility, the thought of what would have happened if I took actions earlier, maybe some from those thirteen might have been alive now. "

Elena stepped closer, her voice soft. "You’re not alone, Arthur. We’re a team. And whatever happens, we’ve got your back."

He looked at her, a flicker of gratitude in his eyes. "Thanks, Elena. That means a lot."

She smiled faintly. "Get some rest. You’ve earned it."

With a nod, she turned and walked away towards her room, leaving Arthur alone once more.

…

When Arthur finally reached his room, he stepped inside and let the door slide shut behind him. The small space was sparse, functional, a bunk, a desk, and a few personal effects. He sat on the edge of the bed, his hands resting on his knees.

For a long moment, he stared at the floor, the events of the day replaying in his mind. The faces of the Chimerians he’d killed, the cheers of the ECHO soldiers, the serious look of Commander Elise as she assessed him, it all swirled together in a chaotic jumble.

Finally, he lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. The hum of the station’s systems was a steady, comforting rhythm, lulling him into a restless sleep.

But even in sleep, the battle lingered.

…

The faint beeping of his datapad stirred Arthur from his sleep. Groaning softly, he rubbed his face, trying to push away the remnants of restless dreams. The room was dimly lit, the artificial lighting programmed to mimic the soft glow of morning.

He blinked at the glowing device on his arm, its insistent tone growing sharper with each passing second.

Reluctantly, he tapped the screen to accept the call. Admiral Kane’s familiar face appeared, his expression stern but tinged with a hint of weariness.

“Mr. Arthur Sully,” Kane began, his voice carrying the weight of authority, “you’re a reckless man, you know that?”

Arthur sat up straighter, still shaking off the haze of sleep. “Good morning to you too, Admiral,” he replied dryly. “I take it this isn’t a social call?”

Kane leaned back in his chair, the background of his office faintly visible, walls adorned with medals, star maps, and a holographic display flickering in the corner.

“What you did out there... It’s amazing. Truly. But damn it, Arthur, you’ve made my job a hell of a lot harder. Do you know how difficult it is to suppress information about someone single-handedly taking down an army of Chimerians?”

Arthur met his gaze through the screen, his tone even. “I understand, sir. But I was prepared to face the consequences when I took action on the battlefield.”

The Admiral sighed heavily, running a hand through his graying hair. “That’s the thing about you, always ready to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. You remind me of myself in my younger days, though I never had powers like yours.”

Arthur allowed a faint smile to flicker across his face. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Kane’s expression softened slightly, though his tone remained serious. “Listen, Arthur. I’ve done everything I can to shield you, but even I have limits. Word’s going to get out, sooner or later. The higher-ups are already sniffing around, asking questions.”

“I figured as much,” Arthur said, nodding.

Kane leaned forward, his voice dropping to a more conspiratorial tone. “Here’s the good news, nobody will touch you as long as I’m here. But,” he paused, choosing his words carefully, “You might have to make some concessions. The brass upstairs, they’re going to want your cooperation and request samples of your blood and cells to research. They’ll spin it as patriotism, but make no mistake, they’re interested in what makes you tick.”

Arthur’s brow furrowed slightly. “And if I refuse?”

Kane’s lips pressed into a thin line. “You won’t. Not really. Because refusing will only paint you as a threat, and threats don’t last long in this game. But you’ve got me in your corner, and I’ve already spoken to someone higher up, a General who I am under. He’s tough, but fair. I’ve explained your situation to him.”

Arthur exhaled slowly, the weight of the conversation settling heavily on his chest. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, Admiral. More than you know.”

Kane waved off the gratitude. “Don’t thank me yet. Just be ready. Someone will contact you soon, could be today, even. They’ll want to debrief you and outline their terms.”

Arthur nodded, his expression resolute. “Understood. I’ll handle it.”

For a moment, Kane regarded him in silence, his sharp eyes studying the young man who had already been through so much. “You’ve got a good head on your shoulders, Arthur. Just remember, no matter how powerful you are, this is a game of politics as much as it is a fight for survival. Play smart.”

“I will, sir,” Arthur assured him.

The Admiral’s stern façade cracked ever so slightly, allowing a small, approving smile to show. “Good. Now get some breakfast, for God’s sake. You look like hell.”

Arthur chuckled softly. “Thanks for the pep talk, sir.”

Kane grinned faintly. “Don’t mention it. Kane out.”

The call ended, leaving Arthur staring at the blank screen of his datapad. He leaned back against the headboard, letting the Admiral’s words sink in. It wasn’t the first time he’d been at the center of attention, but this time felt different, heavier. The stakes were higher, the risks greater.

But he knows with his [Gene Lock] ability they won't get anything even if they tried for a hundred years to understand his power.

After a moment, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood. If today was the day he’d meet one of the top brass, he needed to be ready. His life was no longer just about survival; it was about navigating the labyrinth of power and politics that came with being a living weapon.

He then headed for the bathroom of his quarters to freshen up. The day was just beginning, and he had no intention of wasting it.

***

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