"General Grant, where are we headed?" Drake asked.
"To... Boston!" Nathaniel took a deep breath, eyes blazing with determination.
"B...Boston?!"
"You mean... could it be—?!"
Drake froze, his whole body tensing up. His face shifted to shock as he stared hard at Nathaniel.
Now that it was just the two of them, Nathaniel didn't bother hiding anything. He burst out laughing—loud and triumphant. "That's right! Boston. I just got the word. Emily says her brother—Mr. Ethan from the Draconic Pact—has finally logged off the game. He's ready to meet us!"
"If we want any shot at standing up to the Russian Empire… if we want to take on the White Bear Tsar… then Ethan from the Draconic Pact is our only hope right now. So get moving—I need to be in Boston ASAP!"
By the end of his sentence, Nathaniel's face had turned deadly serious.
But deep in his eyes, a flicker of hope had begun to burn.
"Understood!"
…
A few hours later—
Inside a five-star hotel in Boston.