Intro

The last bell falls silent before dawn. Fire still climbs the rooftops, turning the smoke above the village a merciless red. Along the battered wall, soldiers lean on splintered spears. No one has slept. Beyond the gate, the road disappears into darkness—and somewhere in that darkness, the barbarians are gathering again.

Inside, a mother carries water past the ruins of her home. A blacksmith pulls a twisted blade from the ashes. The wounded make room for another man beside the well. They have held through the night, but courage alone will not carry them through another.

Then the gate opens.

You step into a silence heavier than the smoke. A few faces turn. Then more. There is no cheering, no promise of an easy victory. Only the stubborn hope that someone can still give this place a future.

The enemy believes these walls shelter the last hours of a defeated people. Let them believe it. Beneath the ash, embers remain. Before the next war horn sounds, someone must turn them into a fire the darkness cannot swallow.