I Reincarnated to An Chapter 207: Ghost from the Past

Chapter 207: Ghost from the Past

"Kerr, I need you to stay here. As you’ve already said, you are the last ranking officer with the authority to run this place. You’ve been doing great, and I need you to keep doing that."

Captain Chambers speaks rapidly, his mind already several steps ahead.

"Captain—"

"No, Kerr. No protests. Not this ti. We can’t afford to lose any more ti. The Chief and the others have been missing for too long. I need to go and deal with this."

"Captain..." Lt. Kerr’s voice betrays the fear he’s trying to suppress.

"Thomas, I know." Captain Chambers’ tone softens, but his resolve does not. "I promise you, I will not enter the dungeon. Under any circumstances. I will stay outside and take command of the site. You know this is the best solution."

He does know. And that is exactly what terrifies him.

Lt. Kerr swallows hard. Everyone else went in. No one ca back. And now the Captain is leaving too.

But Captain Chambers is right.

Lt. Kerr is not experienced enough for a field operation like this. This is not a routine assignnt. This is a dungeon site where entire teams have vanished. It is far beyond what he can handle.

Reluctantly, he nods.

Captain Chambers pats his shoulder, harder than necessary.

"I’ll go pick up Rhaenas. You hold the fort."

He turns and strides out without another word.

"Good luck, Captain," Lt. Kerr says quietly, watching him go.

------------------------------

Alexander Lutherford is standing in front of her.

Alive.

Whole.

Smiling, like he always used to when he was genuinely happy to see her.

But Alicia knows this is wrong.

This is very wrong.

Alexander died a few months ago.

She would know.

She killed him.

Alex opens his arms, casual and familiar. "What? No hug for your brother?"

Alicia can only stare at him in horror. The blood drains from her face, leaving her dizzy and cold. Sweat trickles down her spine, slow and icy.

Alex lowers his arms. His face shifts into an exaggerated pout, almost playful.

"Aw," he says. "You’ve changed, my sweet Little Ali. You used to be so quick to bear hug . Don’t you rember?"

Alicia swallows hard.

She rembers.

She rembers too well.

Alex was fifteen years older than her. She had co late in their parents’ lives, unexpected and adored, quickly becoming everyone’s favorite. And Alex had never resented her for it.

She followed him everywhere, like a shadow glued to his heels. Wherever he went, she was there. Wherever he stood, she watched.

She had been devastated when he left.

Alexander had left their ho, their parents, and her, moving to Solarys to pursue his dream of becoming a Sentinel.

She hated him for it.

For years, Alicia hated Alex with a passion that burned hot and childish and absolute. She refused to see him whenever he ca ho. She ignored his ssages. She never replied to his texts. She let his calls ring until silence swallowed them.

And when he finally stopped texting and calling altogether, Alicia still refused to reach out.

She told herself she didn’t care.

It wasn’t until the first ti he got injured that everything cracked.

Her parents panicked when they received the call and rushed to the hospital without a second thought. They brought her along, despite her resistance, despite her crossed arms and sharp silence.

The mont Alicia saw him, her breath left her body.

Alex lay unconscious on the hospital bed. Tubes and cables were attached to him everywhere. Machines humd softly around him. His body was wrapped in bandages, white already stained with red, blood still seeping through in places that made her stomach twist.

Alicia staggered backward, legs weak, shock crashing into her all at once.

Her mother scread, the sound raw and broken, and ran to his side, sobbing as she clutched his hand.

Her father stood frozen a few steps away, rooted to the floor, unable to move, unable to speak, unable to do anything at all.

Alicia was conflicted.

Then ca the praises.

People started arriving. One by one at first, then in groups. They were the victims her brother had rescued. Or rather, the families of those victims. People who had been sucked into the dungeon and dragged back out alive by Alexander.

He had rescued many of them.

Too many.

They ca to see him lying unconscious, barely holding on, and they cried openly. So sobbed. So knelt. So clasped their hands together as if praying to him. They thanked her parents over and over, voices breaking as they spoke.

They told stories.

How he had shielded others with his own body.

How he had carried people out one by one, bleeding, exhausted, refusing to stop.

Alicia listened, stunned.

Before she could fully process what they were saying, another group arrived.

This group wore green uniforms.

They looked disciplined. Intimidating. nacing in a quiet, controlled way. These were not grieving civilians. These were soldiers.

Sentinels.

Her brother’s comrades from the Solarys Dungeon Ergency Unit.

Among them was one man who imdiately drew Alicia’s attention.

He was short, but not small.

Old, but not frail.

Wrinkled, yet his eyes were sharp and steady.

For reasons Alicia couldn’t explain, it felt like the room subtly aligned itself around him.

As if his presence anchored everything.

He was the chief of the Solarys Dungeon Ergency Unit.

Her brother’s boss.

He and the other Sentinels ca to check on Alexander’s condition.

And to inform her family that her brother would be receiving a comndation.

For bravery.

For leadership.

For heroism beyond expectation.

And for the first ti since walking into that hospital room, Alicia can’t help but feel proud of her brother.

The hate she had clung to for years feels distant. Small. Almost unreal in the face of everything she has just heard.

--------------------------------

Thomas Calder enters his office and closes the door behind him with a quiet click.

Only then does he exhale.

He walks to his desk, sits down heavily, and leans back in his chair. His shoulders sag, the tension finally slipping through the cracks. He closes his eyes, removes his glasses, places them carefully on the table, and pinches the bridge of his nose.

It has been days.

Victor and he have been trying to contact Jonathan relentlessly. Calls. ssages. Ever since that last brief conversation, Jonathan has gone completely silent.

Thomas opens his eyes.

From his chair, he can see the Sphere.

He shifts his gaze toward it out of habit, a reflex ford over decades. And then he freezes.

A single purple dot glows on its surface.

Thomas straightens instantly and gets to his feet, moving closer. His steps slow as his eyes narrow, trying to make sense of what he’s seeing.

The purple light is clear.

And then he sees it.

The area around the purple dot is also colored.

Muted green.

Spreading outward. Wide. Vast.

Almost covering the entire city.

Thomas’s heart starts pounding violently in his chest.

"What’s going on?" he whispers. "What does this an?"

He leans closer, dread creeping up his spine as recognition settles in.

The city marked by the purple dot...

It’s Solarys.