General Harnik Vadrel's POV
The room smelled of tension — and fresh coffee. Maps were spread across the table, digital screens highlighting vulnerable border zones, blinking red like open wounds.
General Harnik Vadrel, the highest-ranking military officer in Darnova, stood rigid in his crimson uniform. A seasoned warrior with thirty years under his belt and scars to prove it, he had always believed in Darnova's self-reliance.
But this time… they needed help.
The Blackwood Empire had answered — publicly.
And now… he was about to meet the Devil's Right Hand himself.
The door slid open.
CLANK. CLANK. CLANK.
The sound of armored boots echoed like drumbeats of war. Entering the chamber was General Soren Vask, head of the B.A.M., flanked by two elite Blackwood officers. His armor shimmered in obsidian tones, and his presence felt like a storm barely held back by protocol.
SOREN (calmly):
"General Vadrel."
HARNIK (firmly):
"General Vask."
They locked eyes — two titans from different worlds. One built on honor and borders. The other forged in shadows and absolute rule.
Soren placed a holopad on the table. A 3D display rose from it, showing Blackwood deployment strategies, machinery specs, and fully integrated defense barriers already being installed at the border.
SOREN:
"Within 72 hours, your eastern defense line will be impenetrable. We'll reinforce your weak zones, eliminate any infiltrator threat, and establish aerial dominion over Grid 17 through 42."
HARNIK (stunned but composed):
"That fast?"
SOREN (simply):
"Chris Blackwood doesn't send warnings. He sends results."
Before Vadrel could respond, a young Darnovan officer burst in, breathless.
OFFICER:
"Sir! The troops at the eastern border are… they're celebrating! They say the Blackwood units brought food, supplies, and even mobile med-tents. Morale just spiked to 90%. They're calling them Steel Angels."
Harnik's hardened jaw clenched. Darnovan soldiers — used to rations and underfunding — were suddenly witnessing the wealth and precision of the Blackwood war machine. It stung his pride…
…but it also saved his nation.
He turned back to Soren.
HARNIK:
"This is your show now. Just remember — Darnova still stands. We may need your help… but we do not kneel."
Soren smirked — the only expression he allowed himself.
SOREN:
"Good. We don't work with those who kneel. Only those who rise."
The generals shook hands — an alliance born not of trust… but of necessity.
And outside, in the cold mountain winds, Darnovan soldiers cheered as they watched B.A.M. units install anti-aircraft cannons and deploy exosuit medics for the wounded.
To them, Blackwood wasn't just help…
It was hope.
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