The war council started at six in the morning.
Balthazar hadn't slept. The general stood at the head of the table, his earth-channeling gauntlets still on, his scarred face grey with exhaustion. He looked like a man who was being ground down to nothing and refusing to fall.
"Sit down," Balthazar said. "All of you."
The war room was the same cramped bunker space, with the same glowing map and the same monitors. But the data on the screens had changed. The red dots representing Abyssal forces had multiplied overnight, spreading across the eastern corridor.
Holden stood at the far end of the table, with Cora and Sera flanking him.
Emric, Renna, and Lyra stood at the opposite wall. They had been on the battlements all night, rotating shifts and catching sleep in thirty-minute increments between patrols. Emric's shield was propped against the wall, its surface covered in new dents. Renna's eyes were red from lack of sleep. Lyra looked the same as always. Composed. Ready.
