**Mira's Log, Supplemental**
**Rothguard – Hidden Resistance Camp**
**Elven Lodging**
**40 days after Rothgard's Fall**
An ocean away, the anvil holds.
Here, we wait in the dark.
And we remember why we fight.
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The Elven lodging breathed with quiet, ancient life. Bioluminescent vines climbed the woven walls in slow, golden pulses, casting soft, shifting light across the low-ceilinged space. Outside, the forest whispered its eternal song — the rustle of leaves, the distant call of night birds, and the occasional low murmur of Resistance fighters moving between the hidden shelters. Inside, the air was warm and still, thick with the scent of pine resin, damp earth, and the faint metallic tang of charging equipment.
Mira sat cross-legged on a woven mat, her black Delta operator armor stripped down to the underlayer. Across from her, the three remaining members of Delta 3 were gathered in a tight circle around a small holo-projector. Their gear — rifles, comm units, and powered armor plates — rested on portable charging cradles, thick heavy-gauge cables snaking from the units to a compact Mana Induction Core Field Power Unit that hummed steadily in the corner. The device pulsed with a soft, rhythmic glow, converting the ambient mana of the ancient forest into clean, stable power.
They had been here for nearly three weeks. Three weeks of teaching farmers, hunters, and broken soldiers how to fight like Guardians. Three weeks of breaking old habits and forging new ones. Three weeks of watching the Resistance slowly transform from desperate survivors into something sharper, something dangerous. Now they watched the feeds from an ocean away.
The small holo-projector displayed live satellite imagery of the western front. Blue icons marked 1st Company and Albion positions. Black icons showed the Imperial lines, still thick and defiant. The tension in the room was palpable, a quiet, electric current that ran beneath every breath. Mira leaned forward slightly, her scarred face illuminated by the shifting light of the display. Her voice was low, almost reverent.
"They're moving into final positions," she said. "Alpha and Charlie are locking the flanks. Delta's already on the ground behind their lines." One of the Delta operators — a quiet man named Reyes — exhaled slowly through his nose. "Those kids we trained are about to get their first real test," he murmured. "All of them." Another operator, a woman with short-cropped hair named Vale, gave a small, proud smile. "Remember that first night in the woods? When we ran them through the obstacle course in the rain? Half of them were ready to quit. But they didn't."
A low chuckle moved through the group, warm with shared memory. "I remember how they started moving together by the second week," Vale continued, her voice softening. "Like they could feel each other's positions without speaking. That was the moment I knew we'd done something right."
Mira's gaze remained fixed on the projector, but her mind drifted to quieter moments — the way the recruits had begun to move as one during night drills, their footsteps falling in perfect rhythm. The pride she had felt the first time one of them correctly called out an enemy position without being prompted. The quiet determination in their eyes when they realized this was no longer training — this was survival.
*We left them ready,* Mira thought. *Now we watch them prove it.* The Mana Induction Core hummed steadily in the corner, its soft pulse filling the quiet spaces between words. Outside, the forest continued its ancient song, unaware that an ocean away, the fate of two continents was about to be decided in fire and steel. Mira reached out and gently adjusted the projector's focus, sharpening the image of the western front."Four hours," she said softly. "Four hours until the hammer falls." No one replied.
They simply watched.
And waited.