Major Sarah Chen leaned against the side of the armored carrier, headset pressed tight to her ear. The static was deafening, broken only by clipped reports from the drone squad.
“Target compound in sight. Shield visible. Coordinates locked.”
She looked up, squinting through the night-vision goggles. There it was: a shimmer like heat haze across the treeline, bending the air in unnatural waves. Witchcraft, their analysts had called it. A “protective resonance anomaly.” Sarah called it what it was—magic. And she hated how powerless it made her feel.
Around her, the makeshift forward operating base buzzed with forced efficiency. Radar trucks lit up the clearing with pale green glow. Portable satellite uplinks blinked with error codes as technicians swore under their breath, pounding consol
