The War Camp

The journey had been a long, cold blur of dust and silence. We rode for hours, the Lycan army a dark, disciplined tide flowing through the northern forests. I was always in the center of the Vanguard, a silent, fragile knot of an Omega surrounded by steel and muscle.

When we finally stopped, the sun was dropping fast, painting the western sky in bruised purples and dark reds.

This wasn't a city. It wasn't the Citadel. This was a war camp.

The base was dug into a desolate valley, ...