The wind hit hard outside the summit building, curling through the cracked fortifications. Sunlight filtered through a haze of sea mist and residual fog, casting long shadows that stretched across the uneven courtyard. The summit hadn’t adjourned so much as dissolved, and now the factions spilled out of the hall without a word, each moving as if they’d known their next steps all along.

  Kade stepped out with the others and pulled her greatcoat in tight against the wind. Captain Voss walked beside her in silence, his own coat brushing lightly with each pace. The courtyard below was already in motion. Tidebound Front soldiers were already mustering. Their formation resembled more of a mob than a group of guards. Twenty men were already shifting toward the wagon depot at the yard’s edge, where rust-scarred haulers waited with canvas flaps peeled back.

  Haskett didn’t shout. He just turned, gestured once, and his aide took off running, as if the orders were already written on what was happening with the artifact.

  Kade caught the Restoration contingent filing into view from the opposite arch. Ten soldiers who looked like they spent more time learning how to march in unison than fighting, formed a half-arc behind Callan, who looked down the line as if expecting a saluting crowd. His voice rose as he addressed Haskett.

  "The Council will commit ten to the artifact transfer," he said. "I trust the Front will respect parity."

  Haskett didn’t slow down from directing people around the courtyard. "Respect isn’t automatic."

  Callan turned toward him. "Then consider this a request."

  "You’re short ten men if you want it honored, as I've got twenty men here."

  The words landed like a slap. A few heads turned, and guards on both sides tensed. Kade didn’t see anyone reach for a weapon, but she knew exactly how many people in that yard could if they needed to.

  Then Voss stepped between them.

  "The Horizon Talon will provide a ten-man squad," he said. "Burrell, I ask the Front to do the same. Same number of people but all sides are equal in representation."

  Haskett’s eye twitched as he weighed the options, then gave a slow nod.

  "Fine. Ten."

  He accepted it without argument, and Kade took note of that more than the words themselves. The Front didn’t need to bare its teeth here. They already had the numbers. Letting this one go made them look reasonable.

  Mireya arrived at the makeshift leadership cluster last, her presence quiet but immediate. She stopped near the edge of the gathering, just outside the easy reach of the soldiers’ weapons. Kade noted the distance and couldn’t tell if it was caution or simple self?definition, whether Mireya was avoiding blades or placing herself above the need to care. Kade had an opinion on which it was and kept it to herself.

  "We’ll dispatch our unit directly to the bank," she said. "They’ll be in place before the artifact arrives."

  She didn’t raise her voice, didn’t glance around for approval.

  "They will establish wards and magical defenses before the artifact arrives."

  It wasn’t offered as reassurance. Just a fact, calmly delivered. Kade knew that tone. It was what a planner sounded like when they were already two steps past everyone else on the board.

  Kade drifted toward the far side of the courtyard, skirting past the tail of Callan’s contingent. A narrow stone lip jutted from the wall nearby. It was waist-high, probably a remnant of some building from before the Front took over and converted the area into a stronghold. Lawson stood beside it, arms folded, gaze fixed on the wide churn of movement filling the square.

  She joined him without preamble.

  "Feels like we’re halfway to a parade," he said.

  "Parade with a bunch of ex-lovers," Kade said. "The kind where everyone’s pretending not to look at the knives."

  He gave a small grunt of agreement.

  "Too many leaders," Lawson said. "Everyone giving orders. No one giving directions."

  "Everyone moving at once usually means no one’s actually in charge."

  Kade watched the tide of activity swirl around them. Wagons were being hitched and repositioned, lieutenants shouted across open ground, and aides sprinted past with folded notes clutched like live grenades. It looked less like an organized deployment and more like someone had kicked over an ant farm.

  Lawson didn’t look over. "Was it really that bad? Down in the dungeon?"

  "Worse," Kade said. "If any of them had gotten their hands on the artifact down there, they’d have thrown the rest of us under the nearest falling ceiling."

  Lawson raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

  "Callan would’ve claimed it for civic duty. Haskett would’ve grabbed it in the name of the people and dared anyone to stop him. Mireya..." Kade paused, lips twisting. "I'm not sure what is going on with that one, but she probably would’ve dissected it to figure out what it wanted, then acted shocked when it exploded."

  He nodded slowly. "And now it’s going to a bank."

  "Which is about the safest place it could be," Kade said. "Not because it’s secure. Because every faction’s watching it so closely, they’ll stop each other from making a move."

  "Stalemate."

  "Exactly." She gestured toward the far end of the yard, where Talon marines had begun assembling.

  "No one’s dumb enough to make a play for the artifact now," Kade said.

  Lawson nodded. "Too many eyes."

  Kade let the moment stretch. Wind stirred loose grit across the courtyard. The tide of motion around them wasn’t slowing, just shifting gears.

  "Briggs takes the ten-man," she said. "He’s solid. Calm enough to keep things steady without getting provoked."

  "And us?"

  Kade turned toward the outer wall. Beyond it, somewhere in the ruins of Portland, the sea wall stretched between them and whatever mass of undead was still gathering. Thin lines of smoke curled along the skyline. Too distant to act on, but too close to ignore.

  "We’re heading south," she said, standing up and starting in the direction of the gate. "I want you with me at the wall."

  The walk to the main gate took less than ten minutes, though the crowd gave the illusion of distance. Kade and Lawson, along with the bulk of the remaining Horizon Talon Marines, moved past open crates, tents, and the shell of a gutted bus stop that now served as a vendor stand. Around them, Fort Talon guards and non-combatants rushed around, preparing for the expected attack.

  When they reached what had once been the scenic harbor walk, the sea wall came into view. It wasn’t visible all at once, just in segments, jagged through the haze like something surfacing from the mud. Rebar twisted out from collapsed barricades along the path, and the flood doors across the old roadway were already sealed shut. Heavy reinforced steel built to hold back rising water, not whatever was coming now.

  Tidebound Front units were already dug in along the parapet. Sandbag lines doubled as cover and staging points. Spotters moved between the gaps, scopes sweeping the terrain southward across the various bridges at the narrow part of the bay where it transitioned into a river. A converted command bus stood near the center of the makeshift fortifications. Whatever this was, it wasn’t an ad hoc defense. It was something the Tidebound Front had been planning on using for a while now. Though the original intended purpose was unclear.

  Kade took in the breadth of it without slowing. While everything looked semi-organized, Kade could see several groups of Tidebound Front and Restoration Council members engaged in active arguments about who was in charge or assigned to a specific area.

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  Restoration Council forces had made better time than she’d expected. They had arrived from their stronghold, and checkpoints were already in place behind the main line, layered two deep with clear lanes marked for movement and fallback. Most of the men looked sharp, well-rested, and freshly armed. Callan stood at the center of it all with a security ring thicker than the one he’d brought to the summit. It wasn’t exactly posturing. He’d positioned himself close enough to offer support, but far enough back that someone else would be the first to take a hit.

  Lawson stopped beside her, hands on his hips, taking in the same field. He didn’t speak for a long moment.

  "This holds if nothing unexpected happens," he said.

  Kade didn’t answer. Not aloud.

  Something always happens.

  She kept walking. They followed the makeshift trench path that paralleled the wall for a hundred meters or so, pausing as couriers passed or as work crews hauled up fresh sandbags from the rear. Even here, the coordination was fractured. Orders came from three directions, none of them quite synced. The Front ran the perimeter. The Council claimed logistics. And Ebonwake was limited to maybe a dozen individuals standing off to the side.

  It looked functional. Even confident. But not unified.

  By the time they reached the edge of the command platform, the Tidebound Front had set up at the top of the wall, a scout team was already returning from their forward post across the bridge. There were five runners in layered leathers and stitched cloaks, boots caked with ash and wet soil. One of them, a tall woman with a Tidebound Front armband, handed a folder to Haskett.

  Kade shifted closer. Haskett skimmed the pages, slowed, then read them again with more care.

  A few murmurs passed between the officers as they whispered off to the side with the scouts that had returned. There was a subtle change in the demeanor of the combatants that rippled outward in waves as the rumor mill spread.

  Lawson stepped in beside her again.

  "Problem?"

  Haskett handed him the folder without a word. Kade leaned over his shoulder as he opened it.

  "Well… I think we can safely say that this isn't just a surge of monsters as the Ebonwake was trying to imply." Kade said after a moment.

  Lawson didn’t answer immediately. He flipped through the next few pages, eyes narrowing as he read the scribbled margin notes with Kade reading over his shoulder. The scouts had observed active patrols, camp formations marked into three clean sectors, and a simple command structure. Lawson's finger paused against a tight cluster of numbers. He tapped once, then again, as if he were confirming something he already suspected.

  "This reads like a ground force staging up," he said. "You don’t run patrols unless you’re guarding something. Or getting ready to move."

  Kade said nothing, letting her eyes drift southward. The river split the city here, a thin line of water winding through the ruins of Portland’s old commercial blocks and turning into the bay. Between shattered buildings and skeletal high-rises, she could make out movement. It was small but constant. Just enough to confirm a massive gathering of monsters, but enough to trigger any analyze feedback.

  She mentally zoomed in using the magic of her eyepatch. The broken grid of streets sprang closer. Undead moved through the ruins in patrol-sized clusters, flowing around debris with mechanical intent. Paths remained open where choke points should have formed, which appeared to confirm that it wasn't just random wandering by monsters.

  She turned slightly, scanning toward the mouth of the river where it widened into the bay. The faint silhouette of the Horizon Talon's mast cut against the gray horizon, just visible through the haze. Still docked. If the scouts had sent this intel ahead, the captain would already have known what they were facing.

  He’d act accordingly.

  By the time she turned back, Callan was stepping onto the platform. Haskett stood beside the command table, the folder now resting between them. Callan had already read it. His expression didn’t show concern, just a hard-edged decisiveness that Kade had learned to distrust.

  "This isn’t sustainable," Callan said. "We let them mass like this, we lose the initiative. We should blow up the bridges. Trap them on the far side."

  Haskett didn’t even glance over. "We hold the wall. Let them come. Then break them."

  Callan stepped closer, voice rising. "That might’ve worked when they were dumb and disorganized. This isn’t that. These aren’t just undead. This is some kind of organized deployment. You want to wait until they’re at the gates before you start making calls?"

  "If we blow the bridges, we lose our ability to respond. They're just dumb monsters."

  Kade didn’t move, but she watched the space between them tighten. Callan gestured to the tactical map on the table. "They’re crossing in strength. We cut the bridge now, we force them to bottleneck. Lose it, and we hand them the entire shoreline."

  Haskett’s arms stayed folded, jaw locked. "They cross, we kill them. That’s the plan."

  Kade didn’t speak. But this time, she leaned closer to Callan’s side of the argument.

  Lawson stepped forward, half a breath behind the pause. "We should consider…"

  "No one asked for naval input," Haskett snapped.

  Callan didn’t bother to look at him. "Agreed. This is none of your business."

  The dismissal was personal, and Kade saw it land that way. Haskett cut Lawson off to assert control. Callan backed it to deny him any opening. Neither of them cared who was right. They cared about not letting the other win. Lawson hesitated, then stepped back without a word, his face settling into something flat and contained. When his eyes met Kade’s, she gave a small shrug. There wasn’t anything to say that would change how this was going to play out.

  If they didn’t want help, they could choke on their own plans.

  She jerked her head toward the edge of the platform, and Lawson followed. They stepped off the command post platform together, past the message runners and the half-circle of junior officers watching the argument unfold.

  Before they could speak, the Simulation intervened with a twist of its own.

  Contested Zone Claimed! A faction currently contesting control of a local Safe Zone has secured one of the five needed objectives. You were within the contested area at the time of the claim but did not participate in the engagement. No loot or experience awarded.

  Contested region 3 of 5 secured for the Restoration Council

  The projection faded a second later, but the effect rolled through the command like a spark on dry powder.

  Raised voices behind them. Accusations already forming. Haskett and Callan were shouting again, now with fresh ammunition.

  Kade didn’t turn. She’d heard it all before.

  Lawson exhaled, gaze fixed ahead. "Two men who’ve never fired a round in combat, ignoring the only ones here who’ve fought anything with a plan."

  His tone wasn’t bitter, just flat with hints of exhaustion from having to listen to the two men.

  Kade chuckled quietly. "Modern warfare, right?"

  "Still has its uses."

  "Sure," she said. "So I'm thinking we break the marines into two teams. Five each. Flexible support. Focus on plugging holes when the weird stuff starts showing up."

  Lawson nodded. "Bravo squad with me?"

  "You’ve got the steadier hand. I’ll take Alpha. Wherever it gets ugly. Sort of regretting that we sent Briggs to the bank."

  "It was the right choice."

  "Most certainly was. I just think things are going to get interesting here really quick once the proverbial shooting starts." Kade said.

  Lawson didn’t argue. "You’re expecting elite units?"

  "I’m expecting problems," Kade said. "And I’ve got command buffs. Might as well put them where they’ll make a difference."

  He looked east. "Fallback positions?"

  "Let’s not plan for retreat," she said, then paused. "But if it turns bad, take the spillway by the east breach over there, and we'll regroup at the ship. It doesn't look like the Front or the Council have stationed a lot of forces there."

  He followed her line of sight.

  "Not many Ebonwake, either."

  Kade narrowed her eyes and then glanced around at the entire defending force. He was right. There were fewer Conclave than expected. Barely a dozen, and none of them positioned on the line itself. They stood back from the wall, loose, disconnected, almost waiting.

  Then she saw Robin.

  She stood among them, her coat marked with the Conclave's silver spiral, arms crossed, posture unreadable. She wasn’t moving. Just standing there watching, almost as if she were waiting for something specific to happen. Their eyes met, and Robin sat there watching Kade.

  Kade watched her back.

  They called themselves researchers. Said they weren’t a military force. But nothing Kade had seen matched that narrative.

  They had powerful mages. Resources. Access.

  And yet here they were, planted well behind the fighting. Waiting for something.

  The stare-down was broken by a commotion on the other side of the river.

  The horns came first in a low and distant octave that was more felt than heard. The sound rolled across the river like a pressure wave. Just a long, grinding tone that made every conversation stop mid-sentence.

  Kade turned toward the southern shoreline.

  They were coming.

  A mass of movement stretched across the far avenue. Undead foot soldiers marched in formation, shields slung over half-rotted shoulders, weapons drawn. Cavalry units flanked their sides. Some mounted on skeletal beasts, others on creatures that looked like they'd been built from ribs and wire and molded sinew. Dust kicked up from their march, but there was no urgency to it. It was no wild charge but rather an army marching to war.

  Kade watched in silence. The bridge ahead stood clear, its concrete spine stark against the haze. On any other day, the empty span might’ve seemed like a trap.

  Haskett stepped up beside her, hands behind his back as if he were inspecting a parade formation.

  "Well," he said. "There’s your army."

  Callan said nothing as he joined them.

  "They’ll break before they reach the wall," Haskett went on, his tone casual. "And for the record, Councilor, it looks like we didn’t need to blow the bridges after all."

  He didn’t wait for a reply. He was already walking away, calling orders to his forward squads to ready ranged attacks.

  Kade stayed where she was. The shape of the battlefield was visible now. Infantry funneling toward the bridge. Cavalry angling to flank along the riverbank.

  But something was off.

  She focused on the broken buildings to the left of the formation. It was partially collapsed storefronts, twisted scaffolding, shadows too deep for even her ability to see in low light to penetrate.

  Then she saw it. A brief second of movement followed by a sudden crash that tore through the block as an entire wall gave way in a burst of stone and dust. Four figures poured through the breach. Twice the size of standard undead, plated in blackened plate, moving with unnatural speed.

  Not ceremonial guards or corrupted soldiers. These were shock troops. Elite units.

  [Analyze] Hollow Vanguard | Level: 12 Elite | Status: Hostile | Class: Dark Paladin

  [Analyze] Hollow Vanguard | Level: 12 Elite | Status: Hostile | Class: Dark Paladin

  [Analyze] Hollow Vanguard | Level: 13 Elite | Status: Hostile | Class: Dark Paladin

  [Analyze] Marshal Cadrex of the First Blade | Level: 14 Rare | Status: Hostile | Class: Dark Paladin

  Kade drew the blade she’d taken from the dungeon, the steel whispering free as faint wisps of ghostfire traced its edge before fading

  "Well, shit," she said. "Out of the frying pan..."

  So seriously, thank you for reading.