The sky deepened into shades of bruised violet, as though the heavens themselves recoiled from what was about to unfold. Crescent lanterns flickered high above the plaza, their orange glow swallowed by something heavier like fear and grief.
A palpable weight pressed upon the city, like the air before a storm.
Then—
BOOM.
BOOM.
BOOM.
War drums thundered through the avenues, their dull roar rippling across tiled roofs and echoing through the bones of every citizen.
The beat was slow, each strike a reminder of the Oolong Group's authority. Citizens gathered in uneasy clusters around the plaza's perimeter, as Merchants whispered, pale-faced behind embroidered sleeves.
Children clung to their mothers, burying their faces against worn cloaks and trembling quietly. It had been years since Oolong officials invoked the Drums of Mandate. The last time… a rebellion had ended after a great deal of bloodshed.
Tonight, the drums returned.
