The Trash Guide Awakens: The Youngest General's Hidden Wife
Chapter 88: The Memory Battlefield
Rhaevia’s lungs locked, refusing to expand as the enemy’s final words echoed in her mind. You always forget. And every time you return... You become someone else.
The sound of her own frantic breathing abruptly died. The dark command bridge of the warship shattered into millions of sparkling light fragments, dissolving into a silent, bottomless void.
Even the solid, reassuring warmth of Raevor’s hand slipped away from her fingers. She reached out blindly into the darkness, but there was nothing left to grasp.
When Rhaevia opened her eyes, cold air filled with the sharp stench of ozone and copper slammed into her senses. A bruised, blood-red sky stretched endlessly above her, churned by black thunderheads that rippled with jagged veins of golden lightning.
Beneath the blood heavens lay an apocalyptic wasteland where mountains of twisted, broken starship metal stretched to the horizon. Millions of armored soldiers clashed across the ash-choked plains in a desperate, endless war.
The air smelled heavily of acrid smoke, spilt blood, and the ozone tang of burning energy.
Rhaevia looked down at her hands, expecting to see her crisp military uniform or her tactical gloves. Instead, thick plates of black-and-silver armor encased her limbs, intricately carved with ancient golden symbols that pulsed in rhythm with her heartbeat.
A heavy, double-edged broadsword forged from starlight-infused metal rested comfortably in her right hand. Deep within her chest, her Sovereign Core thrummed with a heavy, resonant hum. The realization hit her not as a sudden surprise, but as a deep, instinctual certainty.
This was not merely a vision or a hallucination. She was standing inside an ancient, living memory. A violent shockwave erupted several hundred meters away, hurling scorching dirt and melted metal into the crimson sky.
Rhaevia turned toward the blast, shielding her eyes as the dust settled. A massive phalanx of light-absorbing black armor was sweeping across the plain, backed by a moving fortress of dark star-metal.
"Hold the eastern line!" a thunderous voice commanded, cutting cleanly through the roar of artillery.
Rhaevia froze, every nerve ending in her body firing at once. The voice had come from right in front of her, carrying her own sharp cadence and tone.
She watched the armored woman standing atop a ridge of scorched metal just a few paces ahead. The warrior looked unmistakably like her, from the silver-black hair fluttering in the toxic wind to the sharp, dark eyes.
Yet the aura radiating off the woman was completely different from anything Rhaevia had ever felt in herself. It was ancient, absolute, and commanding enough to bend the cosmos to its will.
The woman raised her glowing blade high toward the churning red clouds.
"Do not let them reach the Sovereign Gate!" she roared, her voice echoing across quantum channels.
Thousands of kneeling, black-and-silver armored soldiers answered with a deafening, unified roar that shook the molten ground. They surged forward into the oncoming tide of shadows like a wave of pure light.
Rhaevia stared in utter disbelief as the battle joined.
That was me, her mind whispered, stumbling over the impossible reality.
She was not looking at General Rhaevia of Earth’s apocalypse, nor was she looking at the E-rank trash Guide who had awakened on Planet V-17. This was something vastly older, a ruler who had commanded star-spanning legions long before humanity ever dreamed of reaching the cosmos.
Before she could process the sight, another presence entered the battlefield, radiating an energy so intense it made her teeth ache.
Rhaevia felt the pressure before her eyes could even locate the source. It was the unmistakable, crushing weight of a high-tier Sentinel.
The man dropped from the sky, landing beside the ancient Sovereign with enough kinetic force to shatter the metallic ground beneath his boots.
He wore heavy obsidian armor lined with glowing silver circuitry. A long energy blade hummed in his grip, crackling with violent static electricity.
The ancient Rhaevia didn’t even turn her head as he settled into a combat stance beside her.
"You’re late," she stated dryly, slicing through an approaching shadow construct without breaking her rhythm.
The sentinel’s low-pitched chuckle carried through the chaos of war, laced with amusement.
"You started without me," he replied smoothly, bringing his heavy energy blade up to parry a strike from a towering beast.
Rhaevia’s heart skipped a beat, her breath halting in her throat.
She recognized that voice down to the timbre and undertone. It was impossible, yet there was no mistaking it.
The ancient battlefield exploded into chaos around the paired warriors.
The Sentinel moved first, his body blurring into a streak of silver light as his blade carved through three armored enemies in a single fluid arc.
The ancient Sovereign moved in perfect tandem, stepping into his blind spot to obliterate an advancing flank with a wave of golden energy.
They moved across the blood-soaked plain with terrifying, absolute precision.
When one stepped forward, the other seamlessly covered the opening. When one launched an offensive, the other instinctively formed an impenetrable defensive barrier.
Not a single word or vocal command passed between them. They simply moved as two halves of a single, unified organism.
Rhaevia watched their deadly dance with growing awe and disbelief.
Their mental and physical synchronization was absolute. It was not like ordinary military partners or even the battle-tested synergy she had built with her elite officers in past lives.
This was a connection forged over eons, practiced across a thousand forgotten wars.
Suddenly, the ancient Sovereign missed a step as a hidden spike of dark energy shot up from the ground.
An enemy blade breached her side armor, drawing a line of brilliant golden blood.
Before the attacker could withdraw the weapon, the Sentinel appeared directly in front of her, his blade cleaving the enemy in two with a single, furious strike.
He immediately placed a heavy hand on her shoulder, his aura flaring wildly to envelop her.
"Are you hurt?" his voice rasped with fierce concern.
The ancient Sovereign let out a soft, breathy laugh, leaning slightly against his armored side. "I’ll survive."
"You always say that," he muttered, though his grip on her armor remained fiercely protective.
A faint, tender smile touched the ancient woman’s lips. "And you always worry."
Rhaevia felt her heart pounding against her ribs like a trapped wild animal.
The quiet exchange was painfully, agonizingly familiar. She had heard those exact tones, seen that specific tilt of the head, and felt that identical protective aura in her present life.
Yet, as she reached out to grasp the memory, it remained tantalizingly just beyond her conscious reach.
Without warning, the frantic rhythm of the ancient war came to a complete halt.
The charging soldiers froze mid-stride, falling artillery shells hung suspended in the crimson sky, and the roaring explosions went dead silent.
The endless armies dissolved into smoke, leaving only the ancient Sovereign standing beneath the blood-red heavens.
She slowly turned around and looked directly at Rhaevia.
She was not looking into the void or at a memory. Her dark, golden-flecked eyes were locked straight onto Rhaevia’s soul.
"You came back," the ancient woman said softly, her voice carrying the weight of countless centuries.
Rhaevia took a step back, her boots clicking against the silent ground. "You can see me?"
The ancient sovereign offered a sad, delicate smile. "I always can."
Rhaevia swallowed hard, closing the distance between them. "Who is he?"
The ancient woman did not answer with words. Instead, she turned her head toward the Sentinel standing several meters away in the frozen wasteland.
The man slowly reached up, pressing the release latches on his neck guard. Pressurized air hissed as he pulled his helmet free.
Rhaevia’s breath caught in her throat, her vision wavering.
Dark, silver-black hair fell casually across a prominent forehead. Intensely dark eyes, sharp and filled with a lethal intelligence, stared back toward the ancient Sovereign.
He possessed the same defined jawline, the same calm, unyielding expression, and the same towering, unmistakable presence.
"No..." Rhaevia whispered, her hands beginning to tremble as tears blurred her sight.
The ancient Sentinel turned his head, his gaze shifting away from the memory and locking onto Rhaevia.
For one impossible moment, the crimson sky and the ancient war vanished entirely.
In his place stood Raevor.
He was not an ancient, mythical warrior from a forgotten era, nor was he a distant ghost of history. It was simply Raevor, the young major general who had stood by her against the Empire.
His features were identical, his dark eyes carried the same fierce intensity, and as he looked at her, his lips curved into a faint, reassuring smile.
It was the smile he had given her on the training deck when their power first synchronized and the same look he wore when he promised to stand between her and the rest of the galaxy.
Rhaevia’s entire body shook as a profound, terrifying warmth flooded her chest.
It was him. It had always been him.
A soft, ghostly voice whispered through the silent, frozen battlefield, floating on the stagnant wind.
Across every cycle, across every shattered era... You always find each other.
Rhaevia stumbled backward, the sheer emotional weight of the realization pressing down on her chest.
The sky cracked, and the ancient memory shattered into millions of glowing, golden fragments.
System notifications flared wildly across her vision in rapid, blinding succession.
[ANCIENT MEMORY SYNCHRONIZATION: 17%]
[SENTINEL IDENTITY CORRELATION DETECTED.]
Through the falling shards of the dissolving memory, the ancient Sentinel reached out his gloved hand toward her.
He opened his mouth, speaking the word she had heard the Major General say a thousand times before.
"Rhaevia."
Her eyes widened in shock as the world folded in on itself, and the ancient memory exploded into complete darkness.
[WARNING: MEMORY CONVERGENCE ACCELERATING.]
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