CHAPTER ONE
The skies over Beijing were the color of gunmetal — a fitting hue for victory. Drones hovered in silent formation above the Avenue of Peace, streaming live footage to every screen in the nation. The world was watching.
After seven years of brutal conflict, General Li Xuefang, Commander of the Eastern Defense Front, was coming home.
Her motorcade rolled through the capital under a storm of confetti and flashing lights. On both sides of the boulevard, citizens waved red flags and shouted her name. News anchors called her "The Iron Lotus", the woman who ended the Pacific Siege and restored China's borders. Her face — calm, unreadable — filled every broadcast.
"At precisely 0900 hours," the announcer's voice echoed through state television, "General Li returns to the homeland after leading our forces to decisive victory in the East. Her name will be remembered for generations."
Li stepped out of the black armored vehicle, her boots striking the wet pavement with sharp precision. Her uniform gleamed under the cameras — dark steel gray, medals aligned like battle scars across her chest. The applause thundered.
She raised her hand in salute, and the crowd's roar swelled into something primal — relief, pride, and awe fused into a single, trembling sound.
But her expression did not change. Behind her composed gaze, the images of the war still burned — the drone strikes over collapsed cities, the silent faces of the soldiers she couldn't bring home.
Fireworks bloomed above Tiananmen Plaza, painting the sky in crimson and gold. For a nation reborn, it was celebration. For Li Xuefang, it was only noise.
"Victory," she whispered to herself, her voice lost beneath the anthem's roar.
"A word they use when they forget the dead."
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