(Main Highway – Dawn, Blackwood Capital Outskirts)
Engines roared in perfect rhythm — hundreds of armored B.A.M. trucks slicing through the morning mist like a living beast of steel and discipline. The air was thick with exhaust, the scent of metal and command.
At the center of the formation rode General Soren Vask, head of the Blackwood Armed Militia. His armored vehicle, "Titan One," led the front column. Inside, the hum of tactical screens and encrypted radios filled the cabin.
Lieutenant Rafe:
"Convoy Alpha through Echo are locked in, sir. We're ten minutes from Central Command Bridge."
Soren didn't reply. He simply adjusted his gloves and looked out the window — eyes cold, sharp, the kind that measured loyalty before breath.
Sergeant Deen (smirking):
"Capital's watching, sir. BBN says this convoy's the largest movement since the Siege of Meridian. Guess the King's flexing again."
Soren's jaw tightened.
Soren:
"The King doesn't flex. He reminds."
A heavy silence settled in. The only sound was the rhythmic growl of engines.
Then—static crackled in the comms.
Comm Voice:
"Titan One, be advised — we've got an unregistered vehicle parked dead center of the main road, sector 9A. Request clearance to remove it."
Soren (frowning):
"An obstruction? On this route? Who authorized the lockdown?"
Comm Voice:
"No one, sir. It's just… standing there."
Sergeant Deen (laughing):
"Probably some drunk fool trying to go viral. Should we move them?"
Soren's instincts kicked in. Something was off.
He switched the monitor feed to the drone camera. The image flickered — and then, his eyes widened.
On screen:
A lone figure, standing in the middle of the massive highway.
No guards. No armor.
Just a woman in a flowing silver cloak, her hair catching the wind like molten gold.
The B.A.M. convoy slowed — one by one, the engines dimmed, vehicles grinding to an uneasy halt. The drone zoomed in.
Sergeant Deen (stammering):
"Is… is that—?"
Soren (hoarse whisper):
"Her Majesty."
Inside every truck, soldiers froze. Some whispered prayers. Others dropped their weapons in disbelief. The queen of the empire was standing directly in their path — no warning, no escort.
Lieutenant Rafe:
"Sir, orders? Do we—do we secure the area?"
Soren's voice dropped to a command tone that made the air itself obey.
Soren:
"No one moves. No one breathes. That's the Queen of Blackwood. If she stands there… we stop there."
---
The entire convoy — over 400 armored vehicles — halted in synchronized silence. The sound of roaring engines died out completely. The only thing left was the wind and her presence.
Soren (into comm):
"All units — stand by. Weapons down. Helmets off."
Across the convoy, soldiers obeyed instantly, removing their helmets in unison — a metallic wave of submission.
Through the front windshield, Soren watched as Amara raised her hand slightly, signaling them to hold. Her eyes met the lead vehicle's — his.
And in that moment, General Soren, the most feared man in the empire after Chris himself, felt his heart pound in reverence.
He pressed the intercom.
Soren (solemnly):
"Men of Blackwood, remember this moment. You're not looking at weakness."
(He pauses, gaze locked on her silhouette.)
"You're looking at the only person our King bows to."
No one spoke. No one dared to.
Then, Amara took a single step forward — her cloak brushing against the asphalt, calm and steady.
Soren exhaled.
Soren (to himself):
"By the gods… she's really doing it."
The camera drones hovered above, broadcasting everything live across the Empire.
From the throne room to the slums — the world watched the Queen of Blackwood stand before an army of iron and make it stop.
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