Chapter 395: Back Home

Elaine regained consciousness, but only a mere fragment of her mind was awake.

She didn’t know where she was, she didn’t know if she was dead or alive.

Her mind was so muddled she couldn’t muster thoughts, only a murky mess of light constantly flickering.

And a fading sound constantly echoing in the background.

Her memory captured brief intervals of where she was...

She knew she was being carried, but to where? Hell? Was this the afterlife?

Did she truly die? She couldn’t know...

Unfortunately, and inevitably, her mind embraced darkness once more as her brain had to shut down for full recovery.

...

In the Pentagon, on the third floor, a room was located at the far end of an isolated hallway.

A massive workshop, a display workshop to be exact, that held the prime samples of all the military’s latest tech.

Hanging in glass cases were glowing armours, exotic suits similar to the battle suits assigned to division one.

Then there was the series of evo-enhanced guns, a masterpiece of human recreation of the gun to suit the current era.

Like Seth had advised, Secretary of Defense Sir Billard Dorn had focused 30% of resources on what humans did best.

Crafting weapons of mass destruction, and today the president was here to inspect and regulate their process and hopefully green-light a few pieces of the new tech for immediate deployment.

President Cain observed the massive crystalline tank construct, a craft made to wage advanced siege war.

Made to tear down all obstructions...

He was about to give his remark when suddenly his aide, who had just received a transmission, rushed towards his side from behind.

"Mr. President, great news! News has come from the South, traces of the attack division have been sighted!" the aide whispered into the president’s ear.

President Cain straightened, his shoulders loosening at the sound of the great news.

He glanced towards the Secretary of Defense, already half turned towards the door, and excused himself.

"You’ll have to pardon me, Sir Billard, it seems something rather crucial has come up," he said, wearing an apologetic smile.

Sir Billard quickly shook his head, waving his hands, "No worries, Mr. President, we can still reschedule."

President Cain gave an appreciative nod towards the Secretary and rushed towards the exit, which quickly opened with a hiss on detecting motion.

"Tell me where exactly they were sighted and in what state?" the president demanded as he strode down the hallway, anticipation quickening his steps.

His mind felt lighter, some of his worry alleviated.

As long as the core members of the division were alive, honestly, President Cain could accept any other loss.

"Sir, they were sighted coming from the highlands of the Bull Run Mountains, we don’t currently know how they ended up there..." the aide quickly reported.

The president’s eyebrows rose, curiosity sharpening his voice. "And their state?"

The aide wasted no time in replying, "We have accounted for a total of 126 injured evolvers suffering from severe essence loss, six unconscious, and three half dead."

The president suddenly came to a halt before the open elevator.

He turned back to stare at the aide, "135?!" he repeated.

The aide nodded, confirming, "Yes, Mr. President, a total of 135 soldiers have returned."

The president’s expression burst into a scowl, he had deployed a total of 645 soldiers.

Yet now he was hearing that only 135 came back home safely?

Were the dragons that hard to defeat?

Or was it something that happened along the way?

Like whatever had forced the Asura King and the Grand Weapon Maester to act in saving Seth?

Suddenly the pleasant mood drained out of him, his jaw tightening.

He stepped into the elevator, its doors closed and it began to dip downwards. His expression was dark, he remained silent, almost afraid to ask for more details.

He clasped his hands behind his back, the information shaking his composure more than it should have.

His memory resurfaced the image of the bright faces of those children heading to war.

He could only imagine what they had to go through...

The elevator chimed, coming to a halt, and with a hiss the doors parted.

The president rushed out of the building and hopped into his ride.

A heavy Cadillac limousine built like a tank, escorted by a caravan of at least 20 pitch-black military-grade SUVs.

Vehicles boasting the ability to tank a full-on attack from an awakened.

The vehicles tore through the wind, driving faster than their mass should have allowed.

Propelled by new, enhanced engines that ran on essence crystals, in no time the caravan arrived at the border facility holding custody of the 135 soldiers.

Though he could have given an order for their release, he decided to go himself.

He owed the soldiers at least that much...

And besides, he also wanted to confirm with his own eyes whether Seth and his friends were still alive.

Crossing checkpoint after checkpoint, alighting from the vehicle and marching into the border facility.

The aide accompanying him quickly contacted the head of the facility and had him direct them towards the soldiers’ location.

Which was at the medical care facility, the station filled with patients, bruised and bandaged figures to be seen left and right.

Humans, exuding a dense killing intent that almost seemed to suffocate the air.

The president instantly identified the individuals as agents of the hidden attack division he had deployed himself to eradicate the dragon race.

He saw their sorry states, battered and suffering from severe essence loss, some having vitality deficiencies.

As much as he could see through it all, their injuries and damaged minds, most of them, he could also sense the dense, thick bloodlust orbiting their frames.

Each soldier exuded a sense of danger he didn’t expect to perceive.

It seemed they hadn’t suffered for nothing, whatever they had been forced to face head-on had polished them into true veterans.

Elites deserving of the title, he could sense the palpable gulf in power between these guys and the regular human soldier.

And it wasn’t small by any means...

"Mr. President!" someone finally seemed to notice him.

He turned towards the source of the voice, meeting a familiar face, "Lara Stidum."

President Cain strode towards her, ’Finally, someone who can explain to me in great detail what the hell happened to these guys.’