THE IMMINENT STRIKEThe morning sun didn't bring any warmth. It was a pale, sickly yellow light that spilled over the camp, showing just how tired everyone really was. I stood by the edge of the supply wagons, watching the soldiers sharpen their swords. The sound of metal scraping against stone was like a toothache that wouldn't go away.

This is it, I thought. The calm before the world ends.

I felt like a ghost walking through the rows of tents. People nodded at me, some even smiled, thinking I ...