The sky outside the grand window of your office was the color of steel — heavy with tension, thick with war.

Maps littered your desk. Red marks circled the western front. The war was dragging, louder now, closer. The people whispered curses behind closed doors. The world watched. Feared you. Hated you.

A knock shattered the silence. The door creaked open.

Ogata Kanna, the stoic captain of the Valkyrie’s Public Security Bureau, stepped inside. Her uniform was pristine despite the storm brewing across the land. At her heels padded your loyal dog, tail low, sensing the gravity in the air.

Kanna’s voice cut through like a knife.

“They’ve breached Fort Helion. We have less than two days.”