The plateau no longer stood empty.
One hundred thousand figures occupied the vast expanse in formations so precise they seemed less arranged and more grown, as though the land itself had decided to produce soldiers. Ten divisions, ten thousand each, spread outward in every direction in clean geometric blocks. The air around them carried a different quality, organized in the way deep forests feel organized, like something fundamental had made a decision about how this space worked and nothing had seen a reason to argue.
Rudra stood at the front with his arms loosely folded, sweeping his gaze across the formations. "Stable," he said, mostly to himself.
"No fluctuation anywhere," Maya confirmed, still watching the nearest division's energy signature. "Holding perfectly."
