The sun had barely risen when the Greenland army entered the outskirts of Durnhal. Grey clouds loomed above, casting long shadows over the dry, crumbling fields. The silence was unnatural—like the town was holding its breath.
Among the fresh recruits marching under Greenland's banner, many bore the blood of Forun. Their boots crushed the soil of their ancestors. Gad and Jimi walked in that uneasy silence, both sons of a land they were now ordered to subdue.
But only one of them carried the weight of a deeper secret.
Durnhal fell with little resistance. A few skirmishers, ragged and underarmed, appeared like ghosts among the ruins, only to vanish or die under the steel advance of the Greenland battalion. No mines. No traps. No coordinated ambushes. Just the sorrowful retreat of a people whose spirit seemed already broken.
Gad's heart pounded, not from fear, but from confusion.
He had expected something different. Much different.
As he stepped over the remains of a shattered barricade, his eyes searched the broken windows and rooftops, expecting the sting of sniper fire, the thunder of an explosion. Nothing. The few rebels they met barely fired before dropping their weapons or falling dead. No sign of a true resistance effort. No word from Asa. No signal that the rebellion was prepared.
Gad's face tightened as he passed a burning bakery, flames licking the morning sky. The smoke stung his eyes—but it wasn't just the smoke. He looked up into the sky, as if the answer might be there.
Jimi, meanwhile, stood frozen over the body of a woman in a red shawl. She had pointed a shotgun at him but hadn't fired. Neither had he. He hadn't been able to. It was Captain Otunba's bullet that ended her, and she collapsed silently at Jimi's feet.
"You hesitate again, you die," the captain growled, grabbing Jimi by the collar and shoving him back toward formation. "And if you don't die, someone else will. Choose, soldier. You or them."
Jimi had nothing to say. His legs moved, but his heart stayed in that alley.
---
Ashen Fold came next. The settlement was smaller but dug into a canyon, its defenses naturally fortified. Here, the fight was real. Rebel fighters held the high ground, dug into towers and rocky ledges. Mines claimed two trucks in the first hour. Drones were jammed. Every step forward came at a cost.
Gad welcomed it. For the first time since they left the capital, it felt like something real was happening. Resistance. Action. But even here, something felt off. The rebels fought hard—but not smart. No signs of Asa's signature tactics. No coordinated retreats or feints. Just desperate, bitter defense that collapsed after a day of combat.
And again—no message. No sign.
He felt the doubt creeping in.
Jimi changed during Ashen Fold.
During one of the firefights, he froze again—just for a second. Long enough to nearly take a bullet to the chest. It was Luro who tackled him out of the way. Luro, who was shot instead.
Jimi held him as he bled. Gad didn't hear what was whispered between them, only saw the change after. Something in Jimi's eyes hardened.
Later, when they were ambushed near the collapsed bridge, Jimi moved like a different man. Clean shots. No hesitation. He covered Gad's flank with grim precision. Captain Otunba didn't say a word afterward—just clapped a hand on Jimi's shoulder and walked on.
That night, Gad sat beside a dying fire, staring out toward the north. Ember Line waited there.
The supposed heart of the rebellion.
He kept his thoughts to himself. Jimi didn't know. No one did. And with every step they took, Gad's world unraveled further.
Why didn't they fight harder in Durnhal?
Why were there no traps in Ashen Fold?
Why did Asa—his father—remain silent?
Had he chosen to abandon the outposts? Was there some plan Gad couldn't see? Or had the rebellion already died, and Gad just hadn't realized it?
He didn't know what frightened him more—his father's silence, or the thought that Asa had nothing left to say.
---
As the unit made camp at the edge of Ember Ridge, Jimi sat polishing his rifle, distant but focused. He looked at home now in the Greenland uniform—at least on the outside.
"You ever think about what we're doing?" Gad asked quietly, testing the waters.
"All the time," Jimi replied. "But I also think about what happens if I don't."
Gad nodded, eyes fixed on the horizon where the shadows of Ember Line stretched into the clouds.
The final stronghold.
The end—or the beginning.
He didn't know which one scared him more.