"The world is still in disbelief about the recent announcement by the White House. Almost everyone from the Administration has been hitting the podcasts to explain the current war in which the United States has found itself. Riots and protests spread worldwide, with the National Guard being mobilized to provide security and restore peace across the nation.

According to insider rumors, after the President's address to the nation, he and his staff spoke with Heads of States all night, primarily with the French President, Turkish President, and Indian Prime Minister. No details have been released on what was said, but we can assume the subject matter.

More information has been released, including images and videos of American forces engaging the Unity. Infantry fighting alongside unknown warriors has been identified as infantry from Hispana, one of the many Great Powers opposing the Unity Crusaders. All sources from the government and representatives from Salva, all claim that this power on Alagore have been waging a genocidal war across the moon with the intention to force all nations and people into its political-theocratic domain.

There were prerecorded testimonies from the people of Salva. Most were people expressing thanks for the American presence. Many stated how they lived in fear when their formal rulers were the Verliance Aristocracy. One of them, a woman with colorful wings identified as a Templar and key advisor for USAM forces, explained what their expedition had to endure Bridge. Almost all of their party, excluding two individuals, were killed in the process. But they were wishing for assistance from the Altaerrie [their term for Earth Humans, see last episode relating to ancient humans on Alagore].

There has been debate about how long the White House has known about this situation. Most sources confirm that to be true. The environmental terrorist attack back in February-March was a cover for an Vampire-led alien force attacking the research facility. The President responded with a recon in force task force to evaluate the situation and made contact with hostile forces, but also linked with those who wished for our aid. Some believed the government had access to the device, going back to the 1950s and Area 51and only now the Bridge has become public. Regardless of which is true, major military forces have only been sent after the events of March 2nd.

In other related news, POWs from the recent attack were brought to the United States. The Army had constructed a holding area within Fort Carson until further notice. However, relating to yesterday's video, many of these new prisoners are being separated to be charged with war crimes. Secretary of Defense Charles Robinson released photos of Americans from the 3rd Armor Brigade, 4th ID, and Odysseus Battalion, 4th MDTF, being executed and unethical treated during times of war. The Pentagon released three videos with direct statements coming from the Unity soldiers who had committed the act of barbarism, stating:

"All those who resist the forever growing Domain shall be cast aside, those who oppose the teachings of Enlightenment shall be cleansed aside for a greater world. The Domain is forever grown!"

Including Toriffa soldiers who attempted to kidnap civilians during the Salva, the Unity soldiers will begin trial in the coming weeks. We have already covered a long list of war crimes, many of which were committed. please go check those episodes out.

For us, the American people and humanity as a whole, we are left with more questions than answers. With this discovery and answering the age old question, Americans are left divided. Those who support intervention and those who seek to destroy the portal device one point is clear. The United States is at war." - Indie News

April 23rd, 2068 (Military Calendar)

City Hall, Salva, the former Confederacy of Daru'uie

Nevali Region, Aldrida, Alagore

*****

Standing beside the sizeable royal chair, Mathew Ryder watched the nearby chieftains and city lords gather to pledge loyalty to Salva—and by extension, to his House and the American government.

"There's a lot of them," Ryder commented.

"Everyone wants to be on the winning side," Hackett responded.

"One siege equals victory?" Ryder asked.

"It's not about that. It's a symbol. No one cares how you win a football game or how close it is. Sure, there's the rest of the season, but what counts is the scoreboard. That's how you need to look at it."

"I could—if I knew what football was," Assiaya said.

Ryder glanced at his daughter, seated in the expansive royal chair. He could see the nervousness in her mannerisms; it was the first time both of them had to address such a large diplomatic crowd. Placing a supportive hand on her shoulder, he said, "I'll teach you when it's in season."

The Duke turned his attention to the large crowd filling the city hall. Dozens of representatives had arrived, many from factions already in contact with the Americans. Others sent emissaries after hearing of their recent victory over mutual enemies, such as the resort City-State of Mendarium.

They mingled, sharing stories, voicing concerns, and exploring opportunities in a world that was rapidly changing. His political advisor moved through the crowd, making connections. Thankfully, the mood was optimistic—representatives were eager to meet the rulers of Altaerrie and Salva.

Among them mingled Capitaneus Flavius-Elpidius Antius, representing the Hispana Republic and the Coalition. At first, Ryder wasn't sure how to receive the Legionary. Though both were Homo sapiens from Earth, the similarities ended there. Their worlds were vastly different. But the recent battle had fostered mutual respect.

Most faces in the hall were unfamiliar—representatives discovered by other Minutemen teams during early contact attempts. Now, with the battle over, they sought to reopen those offers. Many had heard of the Aristocracy and Unity's defeat and were ready to engage with this new power that could rival even the Crusaders.

Still, a few were recognizable: the farian village recently liberated from the Unity's occupation, now led by the newly appointed Nobleman Lord Isrika; Chiefdom San-Dwi from the Nagal fishing village, where Assiaya and a Viking brokered a fish alliance; and Lord Girnick Elkkur of Vagahm, who had sent dwarven engineers to bypass enemy blockades.

One delegation in particular caught his daughter's attention.

As the crowd bantered, Ryder noticed Assiaya scanning the room. "Is everything okay?"

"Yes," Assiaya replied. "I knew it was unlikely. I was just hoping that orc family might come."

"I think they're still on the wrong side of the mountains," Ryder said.

"I know," she said. "I just miss them."

He gently placed his hand on her shoulder. Truthfully, he too often thought about the orc family. Given all the hatred and tension between races, their aid had been nothing short of a miracle. All he could do was pray the Lord would bless their kindness.

Looking back at the crowd, Ryder said, "I have to say, I'm impressed by the turnout."

"That makes one of us," West said.

Ryder turned toward the Ambassador, who was absorbed in her phone again. Her dismissive tone was starting to wear on him. "Almost everyone we contacted rushed to our side after the battle. All eager to pledge loyalty to HIS House. I'd call that progress."

Susan West didn't look up but clearly registered his words. The effort to bring this world's leaders together was finally showing results.

"They're all rural folk," West replied. "Other than Vagahm, none of the major cities came."

"And your point, Ambassador?" the Colonel asked.

After finishing a text and muttering something about the need for Wi-Fi, she dropped the phone into her brown purse—drawing the Princess's attention. "We can't win with people who barely understand pitchforks. We need urban centers if we're going to drive the enemy out."

"I might not be as educated as you, Ambassador," Ryder said, "but if I recall, rural resistance in Afghanistan, Vietnam—even in the Southern States during the Revolutionary War—proved otherwise."

West glared before walking away.

"I do not like her," Assiaya said.

"Neither do I," Ryder replied. "Avoid her for now. Let's not escalate whatever her issue is."

"I do want to know, though," Assiaya said. "What was that bag she was carrying?"

Ryder blinked at the unexpected question. Of all things, it was the purse—not the cutting-edge phone—that caught his daughter's eye.

"A fashionable, overpriced purse. Something Earth women carry around."

Assiaya gave him a pleading look. "Can I get one?"

"When we go to Earth," Ryder said. "Why not? I might go bankrupt, but you're only an evil dictator madman once in your life."

At that moment, Captain Ryder noticed Antius breaking from the crowd and approaching the throne.

"That didn't look productive," Antius said.

"With politicians?" Ryder answered. "Never is."

"Be careful now," Hackett said. "You're one now."

Ryder sighed. "Don't remind me."

The Captain turned back toward the crowd—just as he noticed a Kitsune chieftain standing among them. It was the elder from the village where Ryder had been captured by the Tornlado Knighthood. The elder looked uneasy, trying not to be noticed.

"You saw him too?" Hackett asked.

"I'm surprised they came," Ryder said.

"Who?" Assiaya asked.

Looking at her confused expression, Ryder explained, "His village let the Tornlado take me. They didn't tell my team."

Her eyes widened. "What do we do? We can't trust them."

"Of course not," Antius interjected. "Disloyalty and weakness spread like rot. Show no strength now, and all will remember."

"I wouldn't say they were disloyal," Ryder said. "We weren't allies. They just—"

"They allowed your capture without warning your comrades," Antius cut in. "Your daughter even said so our first night."

Ryder exhaled deeply, still unsure. He understood why the village hadn't spoken out, but it still stung—especially after risking so much to save them.

"I don't know what to do with them," Ryder admitted, arms crossed.

"When I served Kallem," Assiaya said, "I saw how he dealt with disloyal Houses. He'd annex their land, give it to loyal ones, or uplift new nobility."

"I don't know…" Ryder muttered. "Antius, what do you suggest?"

"Simple," Antius said. "Seize their lands. Publicly execute or exile them. Make it clear: defiance will not be tolerated."

"Kill them?" Assiaya asked, horrified. "That's what Kallem would do."

"With respect, my lady," Antius replied, "this is war. They call your House false for a reason."

"Execution is off the table," Hackett cut in.

"What about the prisoners?" Antius asked. "Those who killed your people during the siege?"

"We built a holding facility on Earth," Hackett answered. "War criminals will stand trial."

"With all Unity did—and the J'avais trying to steal our people," Ryder added, "I suspect a few death penalties may come."

"Only through legal means," Hackett clarified. "The White House wants a public trial to rally Earth's support."

"Then it's exile or imprisonment," Antius concluded. "Harsh, but if you want to prove your House legitimate, you must show strength."

"I hate to admit it, Matt," Hackett said, "but he's right. Exile may be our best tool—and the land can reward allies."

Ryder inhaled sharply. "I should've stayed a Sergeant."

"What?" Antius asked.

"Forget it," Ryder muttered. "I assume it's my call?"

"Correct," Hackett confirmed.

Ryder surveyed the room, weighing his options. This decision would shape how their House was seen and how his daughter would lead in the future. It wasn't just a political move—it was a lesson.

Then he saw it—in the fearful yellow eyes of the Kitsune elder. And it hit him.

"I know what to do."

Before anyone could ask, Ryder descended from the throne and walked through the crowd. The room fell silent. All eyes followed him—especially Roaton.

"My lord…," Roaton began.

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Ryder silenced him with a firm grip on his shoulders. "Elder Roaton, good to see you again. I owe you an apology."

"Apology?"

"Yes!" Ryder's voice rang through the hall. "I regret not returning after the Tornlado captured me. I got tied up with the siege. I hope to resume talks. Please don't feel my House abandoned you."

Roaton hesitated, unsure of the game. Ryder gave him a subtle nod, helping the elder realize the lifeline being offered.

"Duke Ryder," Roaton said carefully, "I came to thank you for saving our young. If you'll accept my village, I pledge our support."

"Granted." Ryder clapped him on the back and walked away.

Cheers erupted. Roaton looked embarrassed—but that was part of the plan. Ryder had chosen public humility over vengeance, strength with grace. A clear message without blood.

Back at the throne, Assiaya met him, eyes filled with excitement and concern. Even Antius looked thoughtful.

"Do you think that'll work?" Assiaya asked.

"The Princess raises a fair point," Antius said.

"When I was a kid," Ryder said, "I stole a candy bar. My mom dragged me back and made me apologize in front of the whole store. I never forgot that moment. Not because I stole—but because I had to own up to it."

"I see," Antius said. "Public humiliation. But you didn't tell the others."

"Didn't need to," Ryder said. "Roaton knew what he'd done. I gave him a way out. What happens next is up to him."

"Your kind… truly unorthodox thinkers," Antius said.

April 25th, 2068 (Military Calendar)

Salva, the former Confederacy of Daru'uie

Nevali Region, Aldrida, Alagore

*****

Walking through the streets of Salva, Assiaya Balan/Ryder observed a new sense of life blossoming within the City-State. Only weeks ago, it had been normal to hear artillery echoing in the sky, sirens warning of imminent attacks, and the screams of citizens running in fear—all of it now gone. There was no fear in the air as the townsfolk went about their lives undisturbed. Children played in the streets while mothers gossiped over fresh goods at open stalls.

It had been five days since Unity and the Aristocracy lifted their blockade, withdrawing back to Irishia to lick their wounds. The layered defenses had fallen silent, confirming what everyone already believed: they had won the Second Siege of Salva—or the Third Battle, depending on one's interpretation. With no further attacks, peace prevailed, reinforcing the perception that the recent battle was over and normalcy had returned.

The Americans, too, needed time to recover. The temporary peace gave them space to lick their wounds. Since the U.S. President had gone public with the campaign, thousands of reinforcements from the 10th Mountain and 101st Airborne Divisions had arrived, underscoring that the war was far from over. While not a military expert, even Assiaya could see both sides regrouping for the next stage.

For the first time in her life, she wasn't living in constant fear. No one was attempting to attack or capture her—not for now. Death no longer lurked around every corner. Peace had finally returned to the city.

But what surprised her most was a strange, unfamiliar feeling: pride.

She could only assume it stemmed from their victory against her former master and against a global superpower. She saw that same pride reflected in the eyes of everyone around her. Since Fraeya and Natilite had arrived to activate the Bridge, it had been a brutal journey for the people of Salva. Now, they had something to show for it.

As the Princess walked, she turned to see her father and uncle talking about the future, with Ceka walking silently behind them. The two officers debated the President's address and its implications for the war ahead. The Head Maid reviewed documents regarding Palace staff, managing responsibilities as expected.

Assiaya had heard countless speeches and declarations from her former master—many rehearsed in private, some during live events. She understood the importance of controlling a narrative. Still, something about the American President's recent speech confused her. Some points simply didn't add up.

"Excuse me," Assiaya said, drawing their attention. "I was listening to your conversation, and I was wondering—why did the President lie?"

"What do you mean?" Ryder asked.

"I mean…" she hesitated. "He said I was with the Salva prisoners and that all of Comanche came to rescue me. He didn't mention Father being captured and saving me."

"It's simple," Hackett said. "Our government is pushing out a lot of information. It has to be careful how it presents it."

"What he means is," Ryder added, "admitting one of their officers was kidnapped right under everyone's noses wouldn't exactly inspire confidence."

"Exactly," Hackett continued. "Since the Bridge was activated two months ago, we've been stuck in a quagmire. Now that we've gone public, we need a confident, clean narrative. Otherwise, we risk civil unrest—or worse."

"Okay," Assiaya replied. "But why did the President blame Unity for everything Kallem's empire did? This is his territory, not theirs."

"You're right," Hackett acknowledged. "But that's not the point. Matt?"

"It's obvious Unity is the bigger, long-term threat," Ryder said. "If the President focused on the Aristocracy, people back home would assume they were the main enemy—not the Utopian Crusaders."

"Is that not lying?" the voice asked.

"That's lying though, isn't it?" Assiaya asked.

"Yes and no," Hackett said. "Leaders are responsible for casting a vision for their nation. You can focus that vision narrowly or broadly. If we say the war is with the Aristocracy, then that's all people will focus on. And they'll question why we fight anyone else."

"If the President blames everything on Unity," Ryder added, "then we've got wiggle room to go after both factions. Otherwise, it would be harder to explain expanding the war."

"I see," Assiaya said.

"That does not make sense," the voice added. "The President said they're only fighting to restore our former kingdom."

"Then why did the President say you're only fighting in Nevali?" Assiaya asked.

"Ask about Hispana and Thali'ean!" the voice urged.

"And what about the Coalition?" she continued. "It was Hispana that sent troops to summon you here. The President didn't mention that."

"No one summons the Americans," Ryder said dryly. "That wouldn't go over well."

"Your father is right," Hackett said. "As I said, the President needed to point to a recognizable enemy—Unity—and a clear goal. That way, the public doesn't think we're here to conquer the moon. We're here to restore the Confederacy of Daru'uie."

"Under Father's and my leadership?" Assiaya asked.

Ryder scratched the back of his head, making her chuckle. "Yup."

Hackett joined in the chuckling. "And that's the point. We just linked freeing this region to defeating Unity. That message—on the back of a major victory—calms our people. It tells them who our friends are, who our enemies are, and what our goal is. Simple, clean, effective."

Assiaya glanced away, reflecting. It was fascinating how different Earth's politics were. Kallem's word had been iron law. Here, leaders had to convince others with half-truths.

"Enough politics," Ryder said. "Now, for your surprise."

"Oh yeah!" Assiaya perked up. "What is it?"

"Wouldn't be a surprise if I told you," Ryder grinned.

Excitement welled inside her as she darted ahead, only to stop mid-step—she didn't know where to go. Her father and uncle laughed.

After walking through Salva's busy streets, they arrived at a gated facility surrounded by a seven-foot wall with vines and broken lamps hanging from above. Inside was a courtyard with a statue of an unknown elf and an inactive fountain pond. The gardens were long dead, with dried trees and wilted flowers.

The compound itself was a three-story U-shaped building with balconies and exterior walkways. Its maroon-wood base and fading upper stories were topped by green roofs embedded with solar leaves that powered a few still-functioning lights.

"What is this?" Assiaya asked.

"I was speaking with the Estate Guild about properties," Ryder replied. "They recommended this place."

"We were using it as storage," Hackett added. "But with the northern fort completed, our military personnel are relocating, letting civilian life return to normal."

"I still don't understand," she said.

"These are apartments for the upper class," Ryder explained. "In Latin, they call it insula. If we're going to be a family, we'll need a home."

Assiaya stood in the courtyard, stunned. A home—just for them. Away from the Palace, away from politics.

Her father ascended a wooden staircase, and she followed. The hallways were lined with dead electric crystals and dusty walls, and some wood panels were cracked, yet they were livable.

Hackett explained that the compound was now designated for long-term officials like Ryder, especially those involved in diplomacy and military command.

They stopped at a door on the third floor. Most railings needed replacing, and the hallway bore years of neglect. But further down, a Nagal worker had already begun restoration—signs that Salva was returning to life.

Her father opened the door. She didn't wait—she burst inside.

She froze.

To the right, an ample space with cracked windows and a fireplace overlooked a small balcony. A tight kitchen sat to the left. Stairs led upward, and the walls showed decay—but she could see it had potential.

"A little dusty," Ryder admitted. "But we'll fix that soon."

"This is amazing," Assiaya whispered.

"Maybe," Ryder said with a smile. "But we're not done. Follow me."

Down a dark hallway, he opened the first door and gestured for her to enter.

Inside was a dusty room with a straw bed and a chair. A window bore bullet holes.

"I know it doesn't look like much," Ryder said. "But this is your room. We'll get you a canopy bed, LED light strips—Kurt says girls love that. A mirror, maybe bookshelves…"

Assiaya stared blankly. The room was empty. Quiet. Private.

"I think I understand," the voice said.

"Please explain," she thought.

"Ere-hian and Ornnallia had their own rooms. Father is doing the same."

She turned, realizing that she had never had her own space, not as a slave, not as a refugee. The idea had never even crossed her mind.

She had a home.

Overwhelmed, Assiaya burst into tears. Ryder rushed over and hugged her.

"There, there," he said gently.

Ceka entered, kneeled beside her, and helped clean her up with a handyman.

When she regained control, she bowed. "Thank you, Father."

"You don't need to bow," he replied. "Your English is getting better, though."

"Where Father and Ceka sleeping?" she asked.

"We'll each have our own rooms," Ryder said. "Speaking of which—Ceka, let's go check yours. Assiaya, stay here and picture how you want your room to look."

Alone now, she tried to imagine. It was harder than expected. She had no reference point for how to personalize a home. She thought of Ornnallia's room… then the warm, simple aesthetic of the Orc family's cottage.

"Father said something about American girls."

"I do not know what that means," she replied. "Something about bed lights?"

"No idea. But maybe bookshelves. A dressing stand."

"Are we rich enough for a book collection?"

"I think they're on those tablet things."

She disliked the tablets. They felt unnatural. But the idea of owning books… of having a library—it thrilled her. She was royalty now. Maybe she could have one.

"We can dream," she said aloud.

"Can I see?" the voice asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Like during the goblin battle—when I was floating?"

She nodded. She remembered the sensation. She focused—closed her eyes—calmed her breathing. She thought of the battle, the embassy.

"Hello?" she thought.

"I… can see you," the voice said.

She opened her eyes.

A glowing orb—yellow, green, and blue—floated in front of her. The Princess reached out and focused hard. Pain flared behind her eyes, but she succeeded. The orb grew, and a face—transparent, alien—briefly appeared. A girl's face with shoulder-length hair and two antennae on her forehead.

She saw herself. But also… not.

The dual-eyed girl looked in the cracked mirror and noticed a slight glow within her eyes. Blood dripped from her nose.

"I saw… like before," the voice whispered.

"Was that you?"

"I think so. Wait—!"

The orb shattered. Assiaya collapsed, panting, drenched in sweat and blood.

"That almost worked!" the voice said.

"Yes," she said. "Maybe there is something different about us. Maybe that's why master—"

Her father's voice called out.

Panicked, she wiped the blood and dust from her dress. Ryder opened the door and saw the mess.

"What happened?"

"Ahh…"

"Say the dust infected your nose," the voice suggested.

"The dust got into my nose," she said.

He raised an eyebrow, then nodded. "Then we better start making this place livable. But first, let's get cleaned up."

They walked back to the entrance. Assiaya paused and turned, taking one last look at the living room—at her new home.

April 25th, 2068 (Military Calendar)

Imperium HQ, Nervia Glevensium, the Hispana Republic

Nevali Region, Aldrida, Alagore

*****

Praetor Stabius Fabius stared at the long battle map of Hispana. It was a tan sheet of paper, extraordinarily detailed, crafted by the finest cartographers. It depicted cities, road networks, distances, and more. Hundreds of small figurines were scattered across the board, each representing an Imperium Legion or hostile battlegroup. This was a sight the Remistu Lat had grown accustomed to during this war.

Military staff surrounded the crystal table, engaged in heated discussion about the upcoming campaign to counter the current Unity incursion near Uridash.

The Imperium had been pushed back to the heartland of the Republic, failing to stop the crusade from breaching their borders. The only thing preventing total defeat was the Evercour Shield Mountain Range—a natural barrier with few viable choke points for large armies between Hispana and the rest of the continent.

This barrier had proven both a blessing and a curse. The Unity, unable to advance large ground forces, was forced to rely on airborne tactics to invade Hispana territory. With their superior air power, they could strike with little warning, conquering cities and key areas. However, without reliable land routes for reinforcements, the Imperium could often counterattack and repel the invaders.

This reality forced Praetor Fabius—grand strategist appointed by the Legate himself—to adopt a defensive posture. Determined to avoid losing entire legions in singular engagements, he had distributed his forces widely. When the enemy struck, nearby units could respond quickly and delay the Crusaders until reinforcements arrived.

But it was only a matter of time.

The officers debated strategy. Some argued for a more aggressive posture, while others urged caution. Every decision cost resources they could barely afford. Responding to this latest incursion would mean sacrifices elsewhere.

As the debate continued, a messenger entered the room. A Neko boy weaved through the crowd, stopping before the Legate and saluting.

"Remistu," the messenger whispered, "Message from Horatius."

The Legate raised an eyebrow, surprised. He hadn't expected to hear from the Palatini. It had been over a month since he dispatched them to investigate the disappearance of the previous Palatini sent to Nevali. With no word, he had assumed the worst.

Taking the note, the Legate glanced around the war room. All eyes were on him.

"What is it?" asked Photius Nasica.

"Simple," muttered Fernard Warclaw. "Another defeat somewhere."

"Worse," added Henness. "Their mission was to confirm the Aristocracy's mobilization against us."

Iulinus slammed his fist into the table. "We cannot fight another front."

"We can," another general interjected. "We have no choice."

Amidst the growing tension over Lord Kallem Verliance potentially entering the war, Fabius understood their concern. The Imperium was already struggling to maintain sovereignty. Ever since the Vampire Lord annexed the Confederacy of Daru'uie—a former Hispana-aligned buffer state—many expected him to strike next. But instead of turning on the Lats and Noble Elves, Kallem had gone silent, as if consolidating his gains.

Some speculated he had played both the Unity and the Coalition to secure territory long sought after. Whether due to internal unrest or fear of reprisal, the Aristocracy had gone into a defensive stance. Still, the Imperium had lived in dread, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"Enough!" the Legate snapped.

The room fell silent.

"Remistu Praetor Fabius," the Legate ordered. "Read the note."

Fabius nodded and opened the envelope. This entire affair had begun when an exiled Wood Elf, Raegel Holiadon, convinced Hispana's leadership to send an expedition into the Nevali Region to locate the orilla Bridge—the mythical portal the Orcs supposedly used to bring the Lat race to Alagore.

Most considered it legend. Nearly two thousand years of searching had yielded nothing. Yet the elf insisted not only that he knew where the Bridge was, but that he could activate it. Most scoffed, yet to everyone's astonishment, the Legate had assigned a Palatini team to aid him.

The Legate claimed it was a sign from Tekali, despite Raegel never invoking her name. The council debated the wisdom of this decision, fearing failure would draw the Vampires into war. Yet the order stood.

Now, Fabius scanned Horatius's report and found the details more troubling than expected.

"What does it say?" Henness asked.

Fabius placed the parchment on the table. "Palatini Horatius has reported in. The Aristocracy is fully mobilizing. The Unity has deployed multiple battlegroups in support."

"More battlegroups?" Fernard growled. "They seem to have endless manpower."

"Conquering the world tends to do that," Iulinus muttered.

"My apologies, Legate," said Nasica. "But I warned this would happen. It was a mistake to provoke the Aristocracy."

"We cannot withstand attacks from both Kallem and the Unity," Iulinus added. "We've already abandoned many allies to defend the homeland."

"Enough," Henness said, his gaze fixed on Fabius. "What of my son?"

Fabius felt the weight of the news. "I'm sorry. All members of Orias were killed."

Henness lowered his head. Silent tears fell onto the table. Officers around him expressed their sympathy, some walking over to console the grieving Praetor.

"I'm deeply sorry," Fabius said. "But Horatius also reported the mission was a success. The mobilization is not aimed at us—but at the Altaerrie around Salva and Indolass."

The revelation stunned the room. You could hear a pin drop.

"Altaerrie? What are they?"

"Where's Salva?"

"Wait, I've heard of Indolass… wasn't that the orilla temple the Wood Elf spoke of?"

It was Henness who cut through the confusion. "You're telling me that lunatic elf was right?"

"I believe so," Fabius said. "The legends are true. Our ancestors have returned."

"And how does this help us?" Fernard demanded. "Nevali isn't exactly nearby."

"We must link with them," Iulinus said.

"Why?" Nasica countered. "We know nothing of these Altaerrie. Better to let them distract our enemies."

The Legate slammed his fist into the table, cracking the crystal surface. "It is true, and the Mother has given us this opportunity. We must seize it. Henness, I grieve for your son. But at least he did not die in vain—assuming we can trust these Altaerrie."

"Agreed," Henness said quietly.

"Fabius," the Legate continued, "You have kept this Republic from collapse. Now, it's time to go on the offensive."

Everyone turned to look at Fabius. Truth be told, he had no plan. No one expected the expedition to succeed. Yet even a tirones could see the gravity of the situation: if these humans had defeated a combined Aristocracy-Unity force at Salva, they could change the course of the war.

Fabius glanced at the map and found the 10th Caesar's Legion figurine—a twenty-thousand-strong formation recently returned from a grueling campaign. They had repelled three incursions and were considered elite in engagements with the Unity.

He picked up the figurine, walked around the table, and stopped in front of Henness.

He handed him the piece.

"Make contact with the Altaerrie and Horatius," Fabius said. "Take command of operations in Nevali."

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