It had been quietly done, right before we left. The Empress gave me my military rank. Rover-Captain Firefly. A special title she created just for me. It granted me almost unrestricted mobility and placed me just beneath a Marshal in authority, on equal standing with a General. Technically speaking, I was made a constellation-grade Knight with verified combat effectiveness immediately following the ordainment. If that moment even counted as real.
"A one-of-a-kind treasure," the Empress had said, handing me the rank insignia before I boarded the ship. "All your future tasking's, once you've recovered, will come directly from me, Rover-Captain Firefly."
I stared down at it in my hand. A badge fashioned as a sword with fairy wings. "Why something so... special, Your Majesty?" I had asked quietly. "I'm not fit for such favour."
"Trust me. You are," Lucione replied with a soft smile. "The Empire doesn't prioritize heritage—we focus on the prosperity of our people. A soldier who weeps so deeply for strangers they've never met deserves more than they can ever imagine. You touched many hearts simply by standing beside me."
To speak down on myself in front of her would have insulted her generosity. So, silently, I accepted her words.
Sensing what I was thinking just by looking at me, the Empress sighed. "People aren't omnipotent, Firefly. No one can save everyone—suffering exists everywhere. But you fulfilled your duty. Not just in fighting for the people or safeguarding the Empire's Pillars, but by doing something far more rare—trying to be better."
I looked up at her, unsure if I understood.
"I know my soldiers fight for selfish reasons. The money. The benefits. A sense of belonging. To many, the military is home because they have none elsewhere. But for you... it was different. You were born to serve, engineered to function until death. Your siblings knew this. Zero knew this. You knew this. Yet, out of all of them—you were the only one who asked why."
I couldn't meet her gaze anymore. My shame welled up like bile. She was right. I had asked. I questioned it all—during pilot training, during my sleepless nights. I had even asked Traveler and Andromeda.
"You're trying to be better," she continued, "because you understand what's beautiful in the Empire—what must be protected, and what must be burned away in this endless galaxy."
She touched my cheek and gently tilted my head to look up at her again, at her serene, dignified smile.
"I don't mind this about you, because I know you already deem me beautiful. That's why you didn't betray me when you had the chance. You saw a future worth fighting for."
"It's something stupid," I admitted, almost sheepishly. "Even Traveler said it was when he told me—"
"That your morals have an aesthetic criteria?" the Empress interjected, finishing the sentence for me. "Of course he did. He's the type to say something like: 'Burn a spider and call yourself a hero, but incinerate a kitten and you become a villain.' That sounds about right?"
I nodded, keeping quiet about how Traveler had actually ranted for half an hour on the philosophical flaws and benefits of such a mindset, culminating in him chucking a half-eaten apple into a tree and asking, "Would you call that a beautiful or ugly act of morality?" I still had no idea what point he was trying to make. But what he said afterward always stayed with me.
The Empress looked thoughtful. "Tell me, Rover-Captain Firefly... what did your teacher conclude after learning the future you chose for yourself?"
I closed my eyes and recalled that breezy moment in the forest, when Traveler had finally given me his answer.
"I had a close friend who saw the world similarly," he said. "She adored mundane things, even though she loved to glitter. That's how she and I got close. When I asked her why she saw the world like that, she told me, 'Anyone can adore the painted canvas, but it takes heart to love the brushstrokes. It's easy to adore the masterpiece, but rare to love the process.' It stumped me and my friends the whole night... though it did explain why she loved my boring angel of a brother."
Pleased with my answer, the Empress smiled and turned away. "Always remember what he taught you, Rover-Captain Firefly. Always. Even I don't know what kind of past he carries to speak such storied wisdom. Who knows what he's seen, to worry about us so loosely."
Just before she departed, I found the courage to ask, "What's going to happen to Ara?"
The Empress paused before responding. "CK-44's situation has no true precedent. He's separated from his pilot—a known traitor—and yet he remains operational. He's proven helpful, supplying intelligence on Freiheit's infrastructure since his recovery. But he is still a liability. Most likely, he'll be moved to an undisclosed planet and used in classified weapons testing... if not simply buried and hidden."
"Ah... I just thought you should know. Ara begged me to kill Zero when he regained his voice. He's clearly still loyal to the Empire. That's all I wanted to say. I trust your judgment either way, Your Majesty."
With that, Empress Lucione left, her escort silently trailing behind. And I was left alone with Traveler's teachings, echoing louder in my thoughts than ever before.
"-Anyone can adore the painted canvas, but it takes heart to love the brushstrokes. It's easy to adore the masterpiece, but rare to love the process.-"
Every day after that conversation, Traveler would gather leaves, rocks, and forest creatures, asking me if I thought they were beautiful. Each time I said yes. Each time, he patted my head and smiled, thankful for my answer.
I still don't know how, but the Empress knew exactly how to help me move on. Replacing the dark thoughts I kept hidden with memories—of joy, of confusion, of Dad's strange, meandering questions that made the world feel alive again.
Afterward, Jason, Nicole, and Commander Peter returned me to Rogue Raven Base so I could recover in safety. Commander Peter left almost immediately for the front lines, leaving my care to Maya and the others. She, Jason, and Nicole handled my daily needs while two doctors I hadn't met before monitored my physical recovery.
As for Andromeda—his body was heavily damaged in the battle with Cetus. Most of his outer shell had to be replaced, and some of his internal gears were compromised. The emerald sword, however, was beyond repair. Even with all the parts accounted for, it couldn't be salvaged. All Maya could do was melt it down and refit the materials into something new.
Thanks to this... a few long-awaited upgrades for Andromeda were finally possible—ones I'd been eyeing ever since his narrow stalemate with Cetus. He understood now. The need to evolve. To adapt. The duel had taught him as much as it had me.
There wasn't much I could do physically during those first few weeks. Everything had to be left in Maya's hands. So, to pass the time, I worked on the garden—when I wasn't being dragged back inside by one of the two new doctors assigned to me.
As recovery days blurred into one another within Rogue Raven Base, news from the front lines reached even us. The war in the Greyrot quadrant was accelerating far faster than expected. Ten battalions, alongside the Noblesse Oblige fleets, had steamrolled Freiheit's forces in the fourth sector. Planet-scale chain-reaction EMP bombs were the spearhead—unleashing devastation so vast that the fifth sector fell in under a week. Now they were already nearing the sixth.
Secret warp-tunnels—hidden arteries between sectors and neighbouring quadrants—were being located, destroyed, or repurposed by imperial forces for their own designs. Another victory.
But it wasn't all one-sided. News broke about Constellation Knights appearing among Freiheit's resistance. Ten had been confirmed so far—likely more remained in waiting, concealed until desperation forced them into action. It all started when the general of the newly commissioned Ultra Guard knight battalion was assassinated by an enemy CK. One of his lieutenants had taken over the Constellation Knight after its resurgence protocol triggered. That confirmed it: they were here.
Meanwhile, Sam was rapidly becoming a hero on the front lines. Now serving under General Fenrir in the Harmonic Pack battalion, he had been promoted to second-in-command. The nickname "Victorious Dragon" followed him everywhere—echoing in TV reports and whispered between soldiers. I wondered how Verwin felt about it all—losing her place beside Fenrir after building her own battalion from scratch.
As for Alex and Freya... information was scarce. Their missions must've taken them deep into the frontier. Still, I knew they were alive. That was enough. They were strong. They were trying.
When my first month of recovery ended, I began training again—carefully, tentatively. The pain hadn't gone away, but I could walk on my own now, even if it meant leaning on a cane. That alone felt like a small victory. And finally, I was able to assist Maya with Andromeda's upgrades—at least until she noticed me working alone in the underground hangar and had either Nicole or Jason haul me away again.
At least the garden was mine without interruption. The little drone Monica had gifted me helped maintain the flowers. I didn't even notice when someone added fish and turtles to the pond—or when ducks began making it their home.
It became so peaceful. So warm. So mine. I often dozed off among the soft, fragrant blooms. Every time I woke up, I found myself back in my bed. Someone always carried me back while I slept.
And then—after two long months—I was finally cleared for active duty.
The moment I got the message, I made straight for the hangar, excitement surging through every aching limb. I found Andromeda already prepping, checking his new frame's integration and loading fresh weapons.
[Are you set, Pilot Firefly?] he asked, voice steady and ready.
"It's been too long," I replied, stepping up to his cockpit. "Let's show them their patience was worth it."
[Then please embark with the fireteam, Pilot. I will be right beside you. As always.]
With that, I boarded the ship. Heart steady. Purpose restored.
I was ready. Ready to return to the stars. To protect this beautiful galaxy from Freyt's twisted, ugly ideals.
To show them all why I was called Firefly.