The dawn broke over Centrical City, casting a pale, eerie glow upon the crumbling ruins of the once-grand fortress. Smoke curled into the morning air, a remnant of the brutal battle that had torn through the halls of power. But there was no triumphant cheer, no banners raised in conquest—only silence, thick and suffocating, blanketing the city like a funeral shroud.
Beneath the ruined castle, deep within a hidden underground chamber, three figures sat in tense silence, waiting for the right moment to emerge. Jill, her fiery red hair unkempt and her face streaked with dried tears, leaned against the damp stone wall, her arms wrapped around her knees. She had scarcely spoken since the battle. In her heart, she feared the worst. Her brother, Jim Slavn, Between dead or not . She clenched her
