Two days since the escape.
The sun over the Salt Flats was cruel now, casting white-hot spears down onto the endless stretch of glittering desolation. The Dawnbreakers moved in tight formation, cloaks pulled tight against the glare, wheels kicking up powdered dust behind their convoy.
Their destination was clear: Valkar's Reach, the last Lucent-controlled city before the Whispering Hollows gave way to true Empire territory.
But there was smoke on the horizon.
Aera stood atop the lead transport, her hand shielding her eyes as she stared into the wavering distance. The wind carried a faint metallic scent—ash and ozone.
"Elian," she said through comms. "We've got signs of a skirmish up ahead."
Elian's voice was clipped. "Want me to send scouts?"
Aera hesitated, then shook her head. "No. We go together. Carefully."
As they crested the next dune, the scene unfolded—twisted wrecks of vehicles, shattered mech limbs half-buried in salt. The air shimmered with residual heat. At least three small fire zones, all within a narrow perimeter.
"Recent," Elian muttered as they dismounted. "Day old, at most."
"What the hell happened here?" someone asked.
One of the Dawnbreakers, Kira, crouched beside a crater and sifted through charred fabric and alloy fragments. "Lucent vehicles. But these marks…" She trailed her gloved fingers over a gouge in the ground. "Too precise. This wasn't just an ambush."
"This was a message," Aera said, her tone tightening.
Her datapad beeped softly. A recorded beacon, buried beneath a pile of rubble. She accessed it.
A ragged soldier's voice crackled through static: "—to any surviving Lucent forces… this is Commander Faleen of the Second Vanguard. Valkar's Reach is compromised. Evacuating west—repeat, do not approach—"
The message cut out.
Aera clenched the pad. "Shit. We're heading straight into a fallen city."
Elian nodded grimly. "Which means either it's crawling with Empire troops—or it's a trap."
They set up camp just outside the blast zone that night. No fires, just rations and hushed conversation beneath camo tarps.
The stars above shimmered faintly through the residual gases still hanging in the atmosphere from the Hollows. But they were finally out of the worst of it.
Aera stood alone atop a rise, staring toward Valkar's Reach.
She thought of Syrix. Of Kael. Of the hidden war playing out behind fronts and flags.
"Why'd you build this world so damn hard to live in…" she muttered, her voice lost to the wind.
But there was no answer.
Only the promise of another dawn.
And another battle.