Chapter 69: The Eve of War
The atmosphere in Bastion Seven felt like a drawn bowstring, pulled so tight it was on the absolute verge of snapping.
The skies above the Great Wall were painted in bruised hues of purple and dark gray. A suffocating, unnatural stillness had settled over the entire city.
The civilian markets were shuttered, the commercial streets were eerily empty, and the low, constant hum of the Vanguard Knights marching toward the outer perimeter was the only sound echoing through the sectors.
Inside the Rank One Apex Villa, Draven Mordis sat quietly on the edge of the rooftop balcony. The cold wind ruffled his dark hair.
He didn't call a squad meeting. He didn't offer a grand, motivational speech, nor did he drag his teammates into a grueling tactical briefing.
Draven was a military commander, not a babysitter.
He had provided them with flawless weapons, diagnosed their tactical flaws, and exposed them to the brutal reality of the Wildlands.
