The scout returned at midnight, which meant the news was bad.
Harren woke the leadership council immediately. Marcus heard the bells and emerged from the workshop, where he'd been attempting to calibrate the final barrier formations. Lysera was already in the council chambers by the time he arrived, her expression grim.
The scout—a woman named Kessa, who'd been ranging east for two weeks—stood in the center of the room, dirt still caking her clothes from hard travel.
"They're mobilizing," she said without preamble. "The Empire's forces. Not just preparation anymore. Active march westward. I'd estimate they're four days out, maybe five if terrain slows them down."
"How many?" Harren's voice was controlled, but Marcus could hear the tension underneath.
"Soldiers? At least two thousand. Maybe more—I couldn't get close enough to count precisely without being spotted. But they have augmented troops. Creatures. Creatures unlike anything I've seen coordinated before. It's not a raiding party, Harren. It's a military force prepared for siege warfare."
The council chamber fell silent.
"And the creatures?" Anya asked. "The organized packs we've been tracking?"
"Coordinated with the military forces. They're moving as auxiliary troops. I think the Empire is using them as shock units—send them in first to demoralize and damage, then deploy soldiers for organized assault."
Lysera exchanged a look with Harren. "They're using psychological warfare. The creatures will be terrifying. When they fall back, survivors will be exhausted and traumatized. Then the soldiers hit fresh defenses."
"It's an effective strategy," Harren agreed grimly. "We need to fortify immediately. And we need to decide on evacuation protocols."
"No evacuation," Father Thorne said firmly. "We stand. We've survived this long by choosing community over flight. We don't abandon Haven now."
"We also don't throw away lives unnecessarily," Anya countered. "The children need to be evacuated. The elderly. Anyone who can't contribute to defense."
"And where do they go?" Father Thorne asked. "Into the Wilds? Where creatures are even more likely to kill them? At least here, we have walls and preparation."
The argument spiraled. Marcus watched it with the detachment of someone watching people argue about a future he wasn't entirely certain would matter. Lilith's presence was thick in his consciousness now. Heavy. Almost a constant weight rather than an occasional intrusion.
*Soon*, she whispered. *The moment approaches. Your transformation is nearly complete. The girl will be the catalyst, and from her death, the Demon King will finally emerge fully formed.*
Marcus pushed back against the presence, but it was becoming harder. The boundary between his will and Lilith's influence was blurring. Soon, he suspected, the distinction would disappear entirely.
"What about the barrier technology?" Anya asked, turning to Marcus. "Can you have the enhanced defensive formations operational?"
"Partially," Marcus said. "The primary barrier is ready. The secondary formations need another two days of calibration."
"We don't have two days," Harren said flatly.
"Then they'll be incomplete. But better incomplete protection than none." Marcus met Harren's eyes. "The primary barrier will hold for at least the first assault. The secondary formations will give us flexibility for the later stages."
Anya nodded. "Then we focus on getting the primary barrier online and battle-ready. Everything else is secondary."
"The community needs to be informed," Father Thorne said. "They need to know what's coming and what the options are."
"We gather them tomorrow," Lysera decided. "We explain the situation honestly. We let people choose whether to stay or attempt evacuation. But we're clear about what evacuation means. Clear about the risks."
The gathering was held at dawn.
Haven's residents assembled in the central square—approximately two hundred people representing multiple species and backgrounds. The sky above them was bruised purple, the Confluence's version of an overcast morning. The crystalline formations embedded in the walls glowed faintly, as if sensing the approaching threat.
Harren explained the military situation clearly and without euphemism. Two thousand soldiers. Augmented troops. Coordinated creatures. Siege preparations. Everyone understood what that meant. Most people here had lived through military conflict at some point. They understood the mathematics of war.
"We will defend Haven," Lysera said. "We have advantages they don't—defensible position, prepared defenses, knowledge of our terrain, community cohesion. These are significant advantages."
"But they're not guaranteed victory," Anya continued. "We need to be honest about the possibility of defeat. We need to be honest about the possibility of death."
Father Thorne stepped forward. "We're offering evacuation. Anyone who wishes to attempt journey into the Wilds will be supplied with provisions and guidance. The journey is dangerous, but it may be safer than remaining. The choice is yours."
A handful of people volunteered for evacuation—mostly the very elderly and a few families with very young children who felt the risks of travel were preferable to the certainty of siege violence. Marcus watched them being prepared with provisions and supplies. Watched the community gather to see them off. Watched the real weight of choice settle over Haven.
Most people stayed. Because evacuating was acknowledging defeat. Because Haven was home, and people didn't abandon home without exhausting all other options first. Because community mattered more than safety.
The work began immediately.
Anya and Marcus operated the workshop continuously, calibrating the barrier technology, finalizing defensive formations, creating contingency systems. Lysera worked with Harren on tactical positioning, establishing kill zones and fallback positions. Father Thorne maintained community morale through ceremonies and gatherings. Cairn retreated into meditation, offering cryptic warnings about timing and alignment that sometimes helped and sometimes made things worse.
And Mira worked through her own channels.
Marcus wasn't supposed to know about the political maneuvering happening beneath the surface, but word filtered through the community regardless. Mira was positioning herself as essential to survival. She was creating divisions—subtle suggestions that certain people were less committed to defense. Insinuations that resources were being hoarded by leadership. Careful words designed to make people question whether following Anya and Lysera was actually the best strategy.
"She's dangerous," Lysera said quietly, finding Marcus in the workshop during one of the rare moments when they were alone. "And she's escalating because she knows the siege is coming. She's trying to build a power base before everything destabilizes."
"What will you do about her?"
"Nothing, yet. If I move against her now, I'm the aggressor. Better to let her overreach. Better to let her make the mistake that gives me justification to act." Lysera paused. "But after the siege. If we survive this. Then we deal with Mira permanently."
Three days before the estimated arrival of Valerius's forces, Lily appeared in the workshop with the kind of certainty that children sometimes possessed about important things.
"It's going to happen soon," she said simply, watching Marcus work.
"The siege?"
"No. The thing that changes everything." Lily sat down on the edge of his workbench. "I can feel it. Like something big is coming, and it's going to hurt a lot of people, and you're going to be different after."
Marcus set down his tools. "How do you know that?"
"Because you're different now already. And you're getting more different every day. And I can feel the different thing inside you getting bigger." Lily paused. "It's not bad. It's just big."
Marcus wanted to correct her. Wanted to explain that what was inside him was Lilith—a cosmic force using him as an instrument. Wanted to warn her that she was the trigger for his complete transformation. Wanted to do everything except accept what Lily was saying as simple truth.
"I know," he said finally. "And I need you to know something too. I need you to know that no matter what happens next, no matter how things change, this—us—this has mattered. Your existence has mattered. Your trust in me has mattered."
Lily took his hand with her small fingers. "You're going to survive the siege."
"Probably."
"And you're going to change into something I don't recognize."
"Probably that too."
"But you're going to remember me," Lily said. "And that's going to matter too. Even if you become something else, remembering me will keep some of you human."
She was six years old, and she understood more clearly than any adult what was approaching. Understood that Marcus's humanity was the real siege—an internal battle against the power that was consuming him. Understood that her only value to him now was as an anchor to what he was losing.
Marcus pulled her close and held her, and for those few moments, the weight of what was coming felt almost bearable.
The final night before Valerius's forces were expected to arrive, Haven held a gathering.
Not a war council or strategic meeting. A community gathering. People came together in the central square with food they'd prepared and shared. They sang old songs from Earth. They told stories about their lives before and after the Stitching. They spoke about what they valued in Haven and why they'd chosen to stay.
Father Thorne offered a prayer that was beautiful and complicated—not asking God for victory but for courage. Not expecting survival but requesting meaning. Asking that if people had to die, they die knowing they'd chosen to stand with their community.
Marcus stood at the edge of the gathering with Lysera and watched. Watched his people—because they had become his people somewhere in these past months of integration and work and connection—prepare to face what was coming.
Lilith's presence was almost overwhelming now. So thick it was hard to remember where the Weaver's consciousness ended and Marcus's began. But he held on to the knowledge of Lily's trust. Held on to the memory of her small hand in his. Held on to the fragile understanding that some part of him would remain human even after transformation consumed the rest.
"They're afraid," Lysera observed quietly.
"So am I," Marcus admitted.
"Good. Fear keeps you sharp. Fear keeps you honest." Lysera glanced at him. "What happens after the siege?"
"I don't know. Lilith won't say. She just keeps pushing me toward something she calls 'the Demon King's emergence.' I don't think I get a choice about that."
"There's always a choice," Lysera said. "It might be a terrible choice. It might be a choice between bad and worse. But you always have agency."
Marcus wanted to believe that. Wanted to hold on to the possibility that he could choose something other than what Lilith intended.
But as he watched the community gather and prepare for battle, he suspected that choice had been taken from him the moment Lilith pulled him back from death in his bathroom. That everything since had been inevitable. That the only question remaining was how much of himself he'd remember after the transformation completed.
The siege would begin tomorrow.
And with it, everything would change.