The long range communications console in the Citadel’s war room let out a final, metallic ping before the green indicator light flickered and died. Heavy, suffocating silence fell over the chamber, broken only by the rhythmic hum of the auxiliary generators powering the tactical map displays.
High Commander Vane’s ultimatum still echoed through the cold stone room: Prepare for total war.
I stood at the head of the obsidian war table, my hands resting flat against its polished surface. Next to me, Gideon leaned over the glowing holographic projection of Blackwood Valley, his amber-shadow eyes narrowed as he traced the strategic points along our northern border. The dual mark on our joined palms pulsed in a quiet, synchronized rhythm, a steady current of gold and starry shadow that kept ou
