The night was restless. A weight hung in the air over Ironhold, thick and oppressive, as if the heavens themselves knew war was approaching. Ren stood on the northern wall of the fortress, the cold stone beneath his boots and the lantern-light throwing shifting shadows across his face. Below, his men—miners, mercenaries, former deserters—shuffled uneasily as they prepared weapons, stacked crude barricades, and whispered about what tomorrow would bring.
The System had not been silent. Ever since Varik’s shadow had appeared on the horizon, new alerts had been ringing in Ren’s mind:
System Alert: Faction Threat Approaching. Estimated Enemy Forces: 2,000+ Estimated Arrival: 36 hours. Recommended Action: Fortify, Rally Allies, Prepare for Siege.
Ren had expected this. What he hadn’t expected
