Thane’s POV
The words of Viktor and Damien still replayed in my mind the moment I walked out of the memorial hall.
President Mark Wilson wanted to see me. It wasn’t an ordinary invitation; it was a summon. Every soldier in the capital knew what that meant, when the President called, you either returned with your rank intact, or you didn’t return at all.
The black BMW waiting outside was flanked by three soldiers. They didn’t even bother to salute or acknowledge my presence. That disrespect cut deep, but I held it in.
One of them opened the back door without a word. I climbed in, my face hard and unreadable. My uniform was still stiff with dried blood and dust.
The ride took almost three hours. Nobody said a word the entire time.
Washington’s skyline finally came into view. The White
