The war table wasn't a table at all.
It was a slab of cracked stone—what remained of an ancient altar, now repurposed in the heart of the ruined fortress that had become Assembly Point Alpha. Around it stood five figures, each cast in the wavering torchlight that danced across fractured walls and exposed roots. A worn banner of black and ash was draped over a leaning column behind them, flanked by two silent golems.
Fornos stood at the head. He didn't sit—he never sat when the future was being carved.
"We begin," he said.
Martin, the logistics head, unrolled a map onto the stone surface. The parchment, stained with sweat and dirt, barely held its form. A riverline was scratched with coal. Trees were dots. Elevation was a joke.
It was, in short, trash.
Fornos didn't say it aloud—but the thought flashed through his mind with bitter clarity: "Damn, this is trash."
Still, this was his army, and this was his choice.
"As we know," Martin began, tapping a bent finger at the center blotch marked 'Fort', "the structure is nestled in a basin. Forests to the east and south, a river to the west, and a rise to the north."
"A cliff," Peter, the engineer head, corrected. "Not a hill. It drops steep on the other side—if we try to climb it directly, we'll be bottlenecked."
Fornos nodded. "Any thoughts on how to lay the siege?"
Despite the command in his tone, his posture was almost bored. He leaned one hand against the table's edge, masked face unreadable.
Roa crossed her arms. "If we come from the forest side, we get cover. But they'll see the trees move. Golems that size don't go unnoticed."
Park tapped a gloved hand twice on the stone near the southern tree line.
Mark followed with three slow taps near the hill's base.
Roa glanced at the spots, then nodded in understanding. "Flank from the south, while feinting from the north. You want to draw their heavier defense up the cliff path."
"Exactly," Fornos said. "Force them to split. Then crush."
Peter leaned in. "If we put Kindling and Thornjaw in the southern vanguard, we can use Craterhoof to pummel the north from range—long enough to make them commit to a counter."
"We'll need platforms or elevation for Craterhoof," Martin added. "The slope's not natural. It'll collapse if we overload it."
"We have seven engineers," Peter said flatly. "We'll build scaffolds. Temporary fire decks. Give me two days."
Fornos gestured with a tilt of his chin. "Granted."
"What of the handlers?" Roa asked. "Sixty new bodies, most of them scared, some of them dangerous."
"Eighteen trained handlers under Mark and Park," Fornos replied. "They'll sort through the chaos. I don't care if it's coercion or camaraderie—so long as it works."
Martin raised a brow. "Supplies?"
"We're not building a siege engine line," Fornos said. "We don't have the time or material. This isn't a siege of attrition. This is a targeted strike."
Peter frowned. "Then what are we doing?"
"A reverse flood," Fornos said. "We plug every path. No one in or out. We collapse their lines, then offer surrender. If they refuse, we torch them."
Roa's tone was low. "You're assuming they'll surrender?"
"No," Fornos said. "But some always do. And those who do can be… repurposed."
There was a silence—unspoken, heavy.
Park tapped the map again—this time near the river.
Mark circled the spot with a piece of charcoal.
Peter squinted. "You're thinking infiltration."
Roa stepped closer. "We don't have trained swimmers. If we try to enter through the river, we'll lose bodies."
Park waved a finger, then mimicked a golem's heavy steps with two slow knuckles against the stone.
"…They don't mean humans," Peter realized.
Fornos looked at him. "Exactly."
"Submerged golems?"
"Aegis-1 and Aegis-2," Fornos confirmed. "Waterproofed, reinforced. Low-profile. They'll follow the riverbed to breach the west wall. Not to fight—just to trigger chaos."
Peter whistled low. "That's risky. If the core fails, we lose two prime assets."
"If the west wall holds," Roa added, "we lose nothing except the illusion of surprise."
Mark made a so-so gesture.
Even Fornos chuckled.
"I'll allow it," he said. "But the moment they hit resistance, pull them back. We're not losing Aegis units for a trick."
Peter nodded. "Then we'll build an access point at the bend in the river."
Martin chimed in again. "Food will hold for five days if we ration. Longer if we get more from the north valley. But we'll need runners."
"Fine," Fornos said. "Draft the Witch's Hollow captives. Test their loyalty. Let them sweat with a task that won't kill them."
"Guards?" Roa asked.
"Pair them with handlers. If they try to run, drop them."
Park and Mark nodded in unison.
Fornos leaned over the map again. He traced a circle around the Fort symbol with a gloved fingertip.
"Their defenses?"
"Unknown," Peter replied. "But if they're built like us, they'll have five to seven golems. Maybe less."
"They won't be elite," Roa added. "This far out? They'll be secondhand. Like the people they sent us."
Fornos stood upright.
"Then we outnumber and outclass them."
Another long silence. The sound of wind howled through the broken walls above them.
Fornos finally looked to each of them in turn. "I want readiness in forty-eight hours. Craterhoof's fire decks in place. Thornjaw and Kindling flanking the forest. Aegis units submerged and prepped. Logistics tightened. Combatants drilled. No excuses."
No one objected.
"I will not lose momentum," he said. "I will not let this become another slog. The era of slow sieges is dead. We carve the path now, while the iron is hot."
Mark raised a single hand and then mimed a blade coming down.
Park tapped once, sharply.
"Understood," Roa said.
Martin rolled the map up. "We'll move."
Peter stepped back with a nod. "I'll work with what we have."
The meeting dispersed.
Fornos stood a moment longer, watching the flickering flames. His mind was already two steps ahead.
One more fort, he thought. And then the next.