The Ember Protocol ignited more than just warnings—it summoned ghosts.From the scorched depths of the Southern Reaches to the frostbitten peaks of Orlavan, Berdiezland's hidden fleets activated. War Golems stirred from their hibernation vaults. Cryptic sigils pulsed on bunker walls. Across the continent, old alliances broke into hushed conversations, and ancient debts came due.Dann stood at the Red Tower’s shattered balcony, overlooking the rubble-strewn courtyard below. His grip on the broken phoenix gauntlet had not loosened. Neither had his fury.“Sir,” Ares said, approaching again, his face tight with unease. “We found a survivor in the west wing. A mage—she was part of Eva’s retinue.”Dann turned sharply. “Alive?”“Barely. But conscious enough to talk.”“Take me.”They entered what was left of the infirmary. Debris, blood, and stifling heat choked the air. The mage lay on a cot—her hair matted, her robes burned, her fingers twitching with residual arcane energy. Her eyes flicke

The tension in the war room was thick enough to cut with a blade.Dann’s gaze swept over the holographic map projected in front of him—the Teluk Arasha glowed in an ominous red, dotted with markers representing naval fleets from six different nations. The supply lines were shrinking fast, like veins slowly closing off from the heart of the battle.“Admiral Caine,” Dann said, his voice low but razor-sharp, “you told me two days ago that the Arasha corridor was secured. So explain to me why three allied fleets are now at each other’s throats over a shipment of grain and fuel?”Caine stiffened, his jaw tightening. “Sir, intelligence reports indicate that rogue factions infiltrated the supply convoys. They’ve been redirecting resources—”“Don’t you dare give me that sanitized briefing,” Dann cut in, slamming his palm onto the table. “We’re talking about men starving, engines dying, and nations ready to fire on each other. This is more than a ‘rogue faction.’ Someone is orchestrating this,

Her eyes blazed. “I’m not abandoning my post—”“You’re not dying here either,” Dann growled, hauling her up just as a grenade clinked across the deck.His eyes widened. “Down!”The blast ripped through the air, the shockwave throwing them both against the bulkhead. Dann’s ears rang, vision swimming—but through the smoke, he saw something that froze his blood.The mutineers weren’t just attacking.They were flying the enemy’s colors.Dann’s knuckles tightened on the edge of the table, his voice carrying the steel of command though his chest burned with rage.“Who told you this?” he demanded, eyes locked on General Rowan.Rowan shifted uncomfortably, his jaw tense. “The report came from inside Konzia’s council chambers. Their envoys spoke of a private negotiation—one not listed in any official record. Someone from within our own war councils may be trading information for favors.”The hall erupted in mutters, the generals exchanging wary glances. Treachery within the ranks was more dang

A dangerous smile ghosted across Dann’s lips. He leaned forward, placing both hands on the polished table, his eyes burning into the President’s.“Be careful, Mr. President. Nations don’t bow to politicians. They bow to the men who can burn empires down with their bare hands. And I…” Dann’s voice dropped into a chilling whisper. “…I’ve already proven I can.”A few ministers audibly swallowed, shifting in their seats.For the first time in years, the President felt the weight of fear creeping up his spine.The President’s smile returned, polished and practiced, though his knuckles whitened against the glass he held.“You threaten me in my own chamber, Mr. Riddect?” His tone was calm, but beneath it was steel. “That may work on a battlefield, but here… words are weapons sharper than swords.”Dann didn’t blink. “Then sharpen yours, old man. Let’s see whose cut deeper.”A nervous chuckle escaped one of the ministers, quickly silenced when Dann’s gaze snapped to him like a predator to prey