The citizens of the citadel waited. Waited for the coming of the storm that would surely soon be upon them. The invaders would march into the city and demand that they become part of the glorious imperial dream. Faith in the soldiers standing between them and conquest, butchery and to put it bluntly enslavement was not to be found it seemed. Sam saw no hope in the faces around them. No hope that their own soldiers could withstand the wrath of an empire clawing its way back to existence and relevance. Like a revenant rising from its grave centuries after meeting its entirely deserved demise. There was not faith to be found in their defenders or leadership.
No faith in the competence of their ruling class. Sam didn’t blame them. It made sense. No one spoke of the possibility of victory aga
