The healers' war always lasted far longer than the violent clash of swords and shattered barriers.
Hajin sat upon the cold metal grating of a dead ventilation walkway, looking down through the iron slats at the dormant shield conduits.
Below his feet, the municipal shield breathed with a shallow, irregular rhythm that lacked its former tyrannical harmony.
Vella ascended the spiral staircase, holding a freshly penned casualty parchment in her ink-stained fingers.
"The final tally is confirmed across all four sectors," the physician stated, delivering the numbers without theatrical grief.
"Eleven citizens died during the initial compulsory mobilization before we could establish our Phase Lock."
"Four thousand one hundred and six men and women are officially freed from the entity's mental commands."
"Of those liberated survivors, exactly nine hundred and twelve citizens chose to retain their voluntary civic bonds to the municipal hearth."
