Erwin’s office is quiet, thick with the scent of old parchment and the low, steady hum of fluorescent light. He sits behind his desk, pen in hand, unmoving. His gaze is lost somewhere beyond the reports in front of him. His mind thinks back to his cooperation with the priestess girl. She had a plan to change things, but then the city experienced turmoil and she vanished. It was a foolish endeavor he now understands, yet he still can’t say he regrets it. This city has persisted in its elitist attitude for far too long, and too many innocent lives have been lost.
A knock breaks the silence and interrupts his thoughts. “Enter,” he says without looking up.
The door creaks open, and Elnora steps inside. Her posture is formal, her tone measured, but there’s a flicker of hesitation in her eyes. “Commander, I’ve returned with my field report.”
“Elnora,” Erwin replies, glancing up. “You’re early. I expected you later tonight.”
