Snow began to fall in thin, slanting lines. It dusted the helmets of the Eternal Night Division as they shifted positions again.A Lone Star captain screamed orders from somewhere below. He never finished. A single, clean shot punched through his throat, and he dropped without ceremony. The shouting in his company broke into incoherent yells.“Keep them pressed, but don’t break the line,” Alessia’s voice carried over the squad comms. “Remember—they cannot move forward or back. The moment they do, they die.”In the distance, faint but growing, came the low rumble of engines. It wasn’t thunder.From the lead troop carrier, Grand General Bina watched the black scar of the ravine grow in the moonlight. Her voice was calm, but her eyes blazed.“All units, final checks. When the green comes, we drop in waves. Secure the north rim first. Alessia has the south locked.”Her adjutant’s grin was wolfish. “They won’t even know where to shoot.”“That’s the idea.”The Lone Star soldiers were still
“I mean to remove the wolf’s shield before it remembers we exist,” I replied.I let them digest it for a moment before I leaned forward, both hands flat on the table. “Understand this—debate is welcome in this room, but once I have spoken, it ends here. I am President of Aeternum, and the sole ruler of this nation. My decree is law, and my law is final.”Oliver’s jaw tightened, but he nodded. Andrea’s smirk deepened just slightly. Alessia’s bow was low and deliberate.“This,” I said, sweeping my hand over the map, “is not ambition for its own sake. It is the betterment of Aeternum. Every move, every order, every drop of blood spilled—ours and theirs—is to secure the future we have built. And when this war ends, Lone Star will be part of that future, whether its people like it or not.”No one spoke after that. They didn’t need to. The chain of intent was set, and it began—and would end—with me.The night over the ravine was a jagged thing—cut by shadows, stitched with the pale glow of
“I mean to remove the wolf’s shield before it remembers we exist,” I replied.I let them digest it for a moment before I leaned forward, both hands flat on the table. “Understand this—debate is welcome in this room, but once I have spoken, it ends here. I am President of Aeternum, and the sole ruler of this nation. My decree is law, and my law is final.”Oliver’s jaw tightened, but he nodded. Andrea’s smirk deepened just slightly. Alessia’s bow was low and deliberate.“This,” I said, sweeping my hand over the map, “is not ambition for its own sake. It is the betterment of Aeternum. Every move, every order, every drop of blood spilled—ours and theirs—is to secure the future we have built. And when this war ends, Lone Star will be part of that future, whether its people like it or not.”No one spoke after that. They didn’t need to. The chain of intent was set, and it began—and would end—with me.The night over the ravine was a jagged thing—cut by shadows, stitched with the pale glow of
The Premier chuckled. “Thought so.”The call from Karzen came next—Foreign Secretary Leistra, always sharp and a little too amused for her own good.“We’ve seen the footage, Mies. Their ‘protests’ wouldn’t fool a drunk farmhand. We can tell it’s the same six countries using the same hired actors. You want us to expose it?”“No,” I replied. “They’re discrediting themselves just fine.”Meanwhile, the smaller UNA nations were buzzing like flies around honey. The emissary from Norvinia sent an encrypted message offering a battalion. Then came Yastrel with a regiment of cavalry, Teyra with an armored detachment. The phrasing was always the same—“in full support of the Aeternum war effort”—but I could read the subtext: they wanted a seat at my table, goodwill in my ledger, and most importantly, a front-row view of modern war as only Aeternum could wage it.I gathered my ministers that evening in the strategy chamber. A map of the Central Continent hovered over the table, its borders traced
“Vanguard supply mule—down.”“Artillery spotter—neutralized.”“Western pass scout patrol—eliminated.”Lone Star’s commanders tried to respond—flaring magical wards, barking orders—but their light sources made them targets, their shouts echoing down the ravine like beacons for death. Alessia had them exactly where I wanted them: frozen in place, unable to retreat without exposing themselves, unable to advance into the kill zone.A junior officer in the chamber shifted uncomfortably beside me. “Sir… won’t the UNA Council question this level of aggression?”I didn’t look up from the map. “This is not UNA’s war. This is Aeternum’s matter. No council will dictate how I defend my people.”At that, the governors—Jelina, Oliver, Alessia herself—nodded in agreement over the secure link. Even the usually cautious Andrea sent in a simple, blunt message: ‘UNA will keep their noses out. Press the advantage.’By 0300 hours, the ravine had gone eerily quiet. Lone Star’s soldiers no longer shouted. T
“Casualties?”“Zero.” Of course.“And morale?”She smiled. Just slightly. “They’re starting to understand.”Back at the table, a new marker blinked into life—amber triangles streaming from the west. The train convoys. The mainland troops. Battalion after battalion already en route, moving through the Wasteland’s newly laid rail network, coordinated by Bina’s military engineers and Andrea’s fuel logistics.They would arrive in full within twenty-four hours. Enough to collapse the canyon. But that wasn’t the point. This war was not to be won through brute force. Not yet.It was to be taught. I watched as Alessia closed her comm bead, then slowly stepped forward to the edge of her cliff, looking down on the Lone Star soldiers below.They didn’t see her. But some of them… sensed her. She didn’t move. She didn’t speak. And yet, something in the camp began to change. A twitch. A shifting of shields. An officer looking over his shoulder too many times.That’s when fear starts to crack discip