Chapter 5 The First Lie

Rhen stayed on his knees, gasping, fingers digging into his scalp as the flood of dying memories slowly ebbed. His body trembled. Every nerve felt raw, scraped clean.

"Captain?" A familiar gravel voice cut through the ringing in his ears. "Orders?"

Rhen lifted his head slowly. Aldric stood right in front of him, posture straight, scarred jaw set exactly like always. The wound across his chest had closed into a ugly black line, but the blood still stained his armor. His eyes, those eyes looked too sharp, too aware.

"Aldric..." Rhen pushed to his feet, voice hoarse. "You... you're talking. Clearly."

"Of course I am, Captain." Aldric tilted his head slightly. "You raised us. We obey. The pain is still there, but it's quieter now. Manageable." He glanced around at the silent ranks of risen soldiers standing in perfect formation. "The others feel it too. They're waiting for you."

Rhen looked past him. Hundreds of his legion stood motionless in the blood field, faces turned toward him. Garrick. Tomas. Mira. Jarek. They obeyed instantly when he had given the mental order to form up. But something was off. Their gazes followed him too closely. Too patiently. Like they were studying him.

"Form ranks!" Rhen barked, testing.

The undead legion snapped into position with eerie precision, boots stomping in unison. No complaints. No jokes. No grumbling about sore feet or empty stomachs.

"Good," Aldric said, nodding once. "Very good, Captain. What's next? We march on the capital and burn it down?"

Rhen stared at his second. "Aldric, how do you... remember everything?"

"Everything." Aldric's voice dropped lower, almost intimate. "The Light pulling me apart. Your face when you held me. The way you promised we'd go home together." He stepped closer. "We all remember, Rhen. Every cut. Every scream. Every betrayal."

Rhen's stomach twisted. He turned away, pacing a few steps. "This isn't right. You're not... you shouldn't sound like that. Like you're still you."

"But we are here," Aldric replied. "Following you. Again. Isn't that what you wanted when you gave the command?"

Rhen stopped pacing. The System interface hovered faintly at the edge of his sight, silent now. The weight of what he'd done pressed down on him. These weren't puppets. They were his men, trapped and aware, watching him with dead eyes that still carried expectation.

He rubbed his face hard. "We can't stay here. The kingdom thinks we're all dead. If I don't return soon, they'll send someone to check. I have to go back. Play the survivor. Tell them the border was overrun. Act loyal. While I figure out how to make the bastards who did this pay."

Aldric watched him carefully. "Pretend? After what they did to us?"

"Yes," Rhen said sharply. "Pretend. Because if I walk in there with an army of the dead at my back, they'll burn every border village to stop me. I need time. Information. I need to get close enough to cut the head off the snake."

Mira stepped forward from the ranks, her spear still clutched in one hand. Her voice came out flat but clear. "So we hide in the shadows while you smile at the men who fed us to the Light? Is that the plan, Captain?"

Rhen met her gaze. "For now. Yes. I need all of you to stay here in the claimed territory. Stay hidden. Don't let anyone see you. I'll come back when it's safe."

A low murmur rippled through the ranks. Not quite voices, more like a collective breath. They obeyed, but their eyes... those eyes didn't like the order.

Aldric placed a heavy hand on Rhen's shoulder. The grip felt almost warm. "We trust you, Captain. We always have. Go play your part. We'll wait. But don't take too long. The pain doesn't like waiting."

Rhen shrugged the hand off, unsettled by how natural the gesture felt. "I'll send word when I can. Stay out of sight. That's an order."

He turned and started gathering what few supplies remained intact, a waterskin, a mostly clean cloak, his dented sword. His hands moved on autopilot while his mind raced. He had to walk back into that nest of traitors. Smile. Salute. Lie through his teeth about the greatest massacre in kingdom history.

The sun was dipping low, casting long shadows across the blood field. Rhen adjusted the cloak around his shoulders and took one last look at his legion. They stood perfectly still, watching him leave.

"Captain," Aldric called after him. "One more thing."

Rhen paused without turning. "What?"

"You don't have to carry this alone anymore. We're with you. All the way."

Rhen nodded once, jaw tight, and started walking toward the distant road that led back to the kingdom.

As he crested the small rise at the edge of the battlefield, a presence brushed against his mind. Calm. Ancient. Familiar. It slid in like cool water.

[“You don’t need to pretend with me.”]

Rhen froze mid-step, every muscle locking up.

The voice sounded like a king. And it was inside him.