The shed sat at the edge of an abandoned grain field, a few kilometres from where the battlefield still bled crimson into the horizon.
It had no walls left worth mentioning, just a rusted metal roof propped up on four crooked beams, barely enough to keep the worst of the blood rain off their heads. It was the perfect place to disappear into, forgotten by everyone except the people who needed exactly that kind of place.
Bai Zhang sat on an overturned crate beneath the shed, his fingers trembling as he stared at the encrypted feed glowing faintly on the small screen in his lap.
The battlefield footage had cut out nearly an hour ago, swallowed whole by that impossible crimson ocean, but the aftermath reports had already begun trickling in from their scattered informants.
"It's confirmed," he said quietly, not looking up. "The Divine Blood Empress is dead."
