War does not explode all at once.
It organizes.
It chooses sides.
It sharpens its teeth in quiet rooms before it ever bares them in the open.
The night after Stonebridge, the valley does not sleep.
Not because it is under attack.
But because it understands what has begun.
Aurora stands at the ridge long after the last lantern has dimmed. The wind is colder than usual, carrying distant ash from a town that almost burned to the ground.
Kade approaches without speaking.
He doesn't need to.
The bond hums between them, steady, alive, but no longer naive.
"You can feel it," he says quietly.
"Yes."
The web is no longer trembling from fracture.
It is tightening in preparation.
"You crossed into their war," he continues.
"They crossed into civilian land," she replies.
Silence stretches.
"You know Obsidian Wing won't stop at towns," he says.
"I know."
"They'll escalate to symbols."
"I know."
His jaw tightens.
"And you're the loudest one."
She exhales slowly.
"Yes."
