The Imperial army, which had been frozen in shock from witnessing the explosion, began to move again.
Not with enthusiasm, not with confidence, but with the grim determination of soldiers who understood that disobedience meant death from their own command structure.
Thousands of them, advancing in waves, weapons raised, ready to die if it meant burying Jorghan under sheer weight of numbers.
Constance kept dragging Caden toward the crater's edge, toward where a medical transport had been held in reserve, her only focus getting her brother to safety, keeping him alive long enough for Imperial medicine to save him.
Jorghan watched her struggle, watched the army advance, and felt something cold settle over his features.
He'd tried mercy.
Tried to let them leave.
Tried to avoid unnecessary slaughter.
They wouldn't let him.
So be it.
