Despite his reluctance, the Mayor eventually conceded to move the remaining civilians even farther inland. He authorized a broader, more distant perimeter, this time focusing all their efforts and fortifications toward the sea.
The trauma of the last wave of attacks lingered fresh in their memories. Too many had died, too many had been injured, and now, no one was willing to take any chances.
The military forces and evolvers who had once stood divided were now unified under the Mayor's command. Yet, their cohesion did not come from loyalty or respect, but from fear. Fear of what they had seen. Fear of what was coming. General Jul, stripped of his authority and confidence, moved like a ghost among them. He no longer barked orders, no longer carried his chest high.
Everything had been taken from him in a single night, and he knew he didn't have the right to demand it back.
Then, as though destiny kept to its cruel schedule, the next morning brought bad news.
