The stronghold’s final outer gate rose with a dying metallic groan.
Cold air rushed in
raw, wild, unfiltered, tasting like metal and ancient ice.
Snow blew horizontally across the opening, sharp enough to sting the skin.
But the moment I stepped forward…
The wind hesitated.
Not fully.
Not obviously.
But enough for Kira to turn to me with a slow, disbelieving stare.
“…This never stops being weird.”
The civilians behind us pressed closer, tension rising like steam from a boiling pot.
Halverson climbed atop a broken loading crate, shouting:
“SECTOR D MOVE OUT IN FORMATION!
Wave One, stay tight!
Wave Two, wait for my signal!”
His voice cut through the storm, authoritative and steady.
But nothing cut through the rising fear.
The outside world was worse than the corridor.
Much
