Smoke curled above the horizon of the Duskmire Port, the black plumes rising like ominous flags in the sky. Merchants scrambled to extinguish fires as the chaos from the recent infiltration rippled outward, and the once-celebrated trade haven groaned under the pressure of political tension, sabotage, and hidden war.
Standing atop a shattered observation tower, Orion Drayce surveyed the wreckage with cold precision. Behind him, Zadra hovered silently, her mechanical wings flexing in readiness. Kyra stood at his flank, datapad in hand, her face grim.
"The fire was no accident," she said without looking up. "Incendiary particles, concentrated in storage bay four. Planted well in advance."
"By who?" Orion asked, his voice low, each word cutting like tempered alloy.
Kyra flicked her wrist and brought up a hologram—a schematic of Duskmire's security layers. A blinking red point pulsed.
