"The Kingdom was not rebuilt by kings or generals, but by those who remembered how to laugh after the silence."
The heavy oak door of the communications annex clicked shut behind me, the sound a soft, definitive seal on a chapter of history I wished I could forget. The air in the corridor was cool, clean, and utterly devoid of the oppressive shadows that had defined the past few months. Vorath was dust, the Vayne Law was victorious, and the Crownspice Anchor, though critically exhausted, was safe. My own exhaustion was bone-deep, a leaden weight that pressed on my limbs and dimmed the usually vibrant colours of my Seer Law. After hours spent with General Silas, confirming the official narrative and establishing the military protocols for the truce, my head ached with the effort of guarding the truth from the official record. The secret of the final purge was locked down tight, and the release of that strategic burden was almost intoxicating.
