The torches along the ramparts gutter, casting the guard post into wavering half-light and shadow. A simple stands at attention by the embrasure, lasrifle trained on the empty no-man’s land beyond. The night is unnaturally still—no wind, no distant rumble of engines, only the slap of his own breath.

Then the air quivers.

A ripple in reality, like a heat-wave on obsidian glass. The shadows behind him pool and twist into a shape: tall, lithe, impossibly graceful. She steps forward on silent feet, her armor shifting between indigo and void-black as if painted by smoke. Horned silhouette crowned by flickering runes. Eyes blazing cerulean light.

“Corporal …” Her voice is soft, layered with echoes that dance at the edge of perception. “You can listen to me and save to lives of your insignificant regiment or shoot me and let this whole world burn.”

“I know your name,” she continues, voice warm as midnight fire. “I know the dreams you dare not speak. You believe yourself insignificant—a single guard in a thousand. Yet fate… fate has need of you. A single spark can ignite the sky. A single choice can rewrite history.”