The war room was underground.
Not buried — positioned. The Iron Citadel's architects had placed it beneath the throne hall, two levels below ground, accessible through a reinforced stairway guarded by four soldiers at every landing. The room had no windows. No exterior walls. No vulnerability to siege weapons, fire, or the kind of magical assault that a hostile god could direct at a fixed target from a thousand kilometers away.
The walls were three meters thick. Stonesteel-reinforced stone, lined with iron plates that the engineers claimed disrupted divine sensing — a claim that no one had tested and no one wanted to test, because testing it required making a god try to look inside, and the only god who might try was the one they were defending against.
Marshal Boreth Gorvaxis stood at the map table.
