I tossed and turned—
sweat slick against my skin.
My limbs jerked violently, striking at phantoms that weren't there.
Ghosts of fists.
Shadows of pain.
Then—
a hand.
Firm. Real.
It gripped my shoulder.
I shot upright with a scream, chest heaving.
"Commander!" a voice barked—familiar, grounding.
Sirus.
My gaze snapped to him, wild and unfocused, then darted around the room.
Stone walls.
A low-burning lantern.
Clean sheets beneath me.
No blood.
No shattered armor.
No monster looming above.
I was alive.
Barely.
"Where… where am I?" My voice cracked, dry and strained.
"The infirmary," Sirus answered, reading my thoughts. "You've been unconscious for a month."
A month?
My heart pounded. My skull throbbed. Memories surged in like a flood—
The Emperor's final breath.
The arrow piercing his chest.
My shattered body.
My failure.
Pain flared behind my eyes. I gripped the sheets, grinding my teeth.
He was gone.
Caesar was dead.
And I hadn't saved him.
"You did your best," Sirus murmured.
"My best wasn't enough," I growled, rage flickering to life in my chest.
Then another thought struck me cold.
A month.
I turned sharply. "Who sits the throne now?"
Sirus hesitated. His eyes met mine—grim, shadowed.
"Magnus," he said. "The Emperor's younger brother. He's ruled in your absence."
I froze.
Magnus.
That snake.
He was nothing like his brother—cruel where Caesar was just, manipulative where Caesar was wise. He dealt in whispers and shadows, bending the court with cunning instead of strength. And now, he ruled?
My fists clenched.
"Commander," Sirus said firmly, snapping me out of my spiraling thoughts. "The Imperial Knights have been waiting for your return."
I looked at him. His tone was clipped, his gaze heavy.
There was more. Something urgent.
"What is it?"
Before he could answer—
BANG BANG BANG
A loud knock echoed through the room.
"Vice Commander!" someone shouted from beyond the door. "We have a problem!"
Sirus moved at once, jaw tight, hand drifting toward his sword.
Another knock—louder, more frantic.
"Sir! Fighting's broken out—within the city!"
Sirus yanked the door open.
A young scout stumbled in, sweat pouring from his brow, armor half-fastened. He looked like he'd sprinted through a warzone.
"What is it?" Sirus demanded.
"Fighting…" the scout gasped, clutching his knees. "It's the Valors. They're attacking our knights."
Sirus stiffened, eyes going wide.
"What?" I barked, rising despite the pain. "What the hell is going on?"
The room trembled with a tension that hadn't been there before.
And for the first time since I woke up, I knew—
Whatever Magnus had started in my absence…
was already tearing the empire apart.
I rushed to my armor hanging just a few feet from the bed.
Every movement was pain.
Every breath, fire in my chest.
But I endured.
Piece by piece, I strapped it on—
my second skin, dented and worn.
The weight was familiar. Comforting.
I gripped my sword.
Sirus stood ready by the door. I joined him with a limp in my step and steel in my grip.
"Gather as many Imperial Knights as you can," I ordered, voice sharp despite the ache.
"Meet me at the city gates."
Sirus gave a curt nod and sprinted off.
I followed, slower—but determined.
As I made my way through the winding streets, my thoughts churned.
What the hell could have caused this?
Yes, Caesar and Magnus had never seen eye to eye. The tension between the Imperial Knights and the Valors had always simmered beneath the surface…
But this?
This was war.
Then—
BOOM!
An explosion tore through the air.
The ground shook beneath my feet.
Walls cracked. Windows shattered.
I stumbled, barely catching myself with my sword.
Screams rang out.
Steel clashed in the distance.
Battle cries.
Children wailing.
The city was burning.
I gritted my teeth and pushed forward, pain shooting through my ribs with every step. My body wasn't ready. But I didn't care.
I was needed.
And I was angry.
The deeper I went, the worse it got.
Smoke choked the sky.
Flames danced across rooftops.
Collapsed buildings spilled rubble into the streets.
Bodies—both Imperial and Valor—littered the ground. Blood soaked the stones beneath them.
Madness.
"Commander!"
A voice rang out through the smoke.
I looked up.
Helios—one of my high commanders—stood atop a broken building, bow drawn.
He loosed an arrow into the chaos and leapt down, landing with practiced ease.
He rushed to me, eyes sharp despite the sweat and grime.
"Commander," he said, a grin breaking through the dirt on his face. "You're alive."
"For now," I muttered. "What in the gods' names happened here?"
"Valors," he spat. "They turned on us. No warning. Just… started killing our men."
No warning?
That didn't sound right.
There had always been tension—but not this.
Not open slaughter.
Something stank beneath the surface.
And I intended to dig it out.
"Any word from Magnus?"
Helios raised a brow at the question, surprised I'd even asked.
"No, sir," he replied. "Nothing."
Silence from Magnus?
That wasn't like him.
If Magnus wanted a war, he'd announce it. Loudly. Publicly. With banners, speeches, and a smug grin on his snake-like face.
My stomach twisted.
What if this wasn't Magnus?
What if… this was a coup?
"F**k," I muttered under my breath, gripping the hilt of my sword tight.
Something stank. Deep and rotten.
This wasn't chaos. It was orchestration.
"Helios," I barked, snapping my gaze to him. "Lead the rest of our men to the city gates. Sirus is waiting."
He nodded sharply, but hesitated.
"What about you, sir?"
I paused, the weight of the moment sinking into my bones.
"I'm going to the castle," I said. "Something isn't right about all this."
He opened his mouth to object, then thought better of it. With a final nod, he turned and disappeared into the smoke.
I stood alone in the wreckage of our city, heart pounding beneath shattered ribs, eyes fixed on the castle towers above.
If there were answers, they were waiting for me in the belly of the beast.
And I intended to drag them out—kicking and screaming.