“Thank you for joining me, Mr. Vice President. It has been a big couple of weeks for your Administration,” – Logan said.

  “That is an understatement. I do believe we have handled the situation well, and that the American people are on our side,” – Shaw replied.

  “Announcing that we are at war with Zealot space aliens and the Earth not going nuclear on itself, that would be an accomplishment. That does lead me to my first question: how long has the United States controlled this device and operated on Alagore?” – Logan asked.

  “Everything the President said was honest. We learned about the Bridge earlier this year because refugees were seeking our aid. When the Bridge first opened, these people were under attack, with a genocide happening at Salva. Our recon forces successfully defeated the Aristocracy and liberated the city,” – Shaw said.

  “That sounds very noble of us. And it has nothing to do with alien technology and resources?” – Logan asked.

  “Of course we want to investigate what Alagore has to offer, why wouldn’t we? NASA Astro Resource and Mining Management Agency has been working with one of our allies around Salva, Vagahm. Apparently, these dwarves specialize in merging or alchemy steel or other ore with something called Karvernite. What this rock does is allow steel and iron with magical properties. From what I understand, this is the heart of magitech,” – Shaw explained.

  “This magic stuff is wild, and I can understand the government wanting to study these new… resources…. My concern is that, and I am not including any of the other conspiracies like Roswell and who built the Pyramids, we made contact with space aliens for the first time and the first thing we do is declare war with them,” – Logan said.

  Shaw laughed. “Trust me, has been pointed out multiple times within these last five months. This was one of the reasons why we did not go public the moment we made contact with these refugees. We did not want to say we are engaging in military operations, and then a cease-fire was announced. Sadly, we did not get that outcome, and the President believed this was the time to tell the American people and the international community,” – Shaw said.

  “And it had nothing to do with the fact that leaks came out of Fort Carson about that final battle around Salva. I do want to press this point. I get that the President wanted to prevent a genocide and that your Administration had to act fast, but why? Nations and tribes on Earth ask for the US's aid all the time, and we say no. Why? Because it is not our business. Why should we send our troops and spend trillions of dollars on a war on another world when we have our own problems here?” – Logan asked.

  “That is a fair point, and that was a point of conversation. When the White House learned of what happened on March 1st, we had a decision to make. Let me be clear, the Bridge and making contact with these aliens is the greatest discovery in recorded history. Either destroy the Bridge or get involved. While we all would love to have a middle option, where we explore Alagore in peace, the Unity will not allow that. We tried the diplomatic route, and our Special Forces had to use force to get some of our people back. They laid siege against Salva and our troops for a month. There is no peace with these extremists. We all wish that first contact was Vulcan's landing in Montana, but that isn’t the option that was given. The President had a choice, and he chose to act. We are not going to abandon the people of Salva, Vagahm, and others to the hands of these genocidal utopianist,” – Shaw said.

  “It is a hard choice. I wish we could mind our own business, you made some good points. This will be a defining moment for humanity; I hope your administration is up to the task. I do wish to end on this. Princess Assiaya. Is it true that an American Captain saved her?” – Logan said

  “I was wondering when we would get to that subject. The story is true. During an operation to save US and Salva prisoners, Captain Ryder saved this twelve-year-old girl from the Vampire Lord, who which attacked us and now wages war against us and the people of Salva. At that moment, we had no idea of her identity as the natives believed she was dead.” – Shaw said.

  “According to the report, she disclosed this to that Captain? This was to save the prisoners at Vagahm.” – Logan asked.

  “That is correct. The two built a bond and by the time we have learned the truth, they already built a familial bond. And regarding the Vagahm situation, they were not prisoners. The dwarves had no idea who we were and didn’t want to release the civilians. That was why Princess Assiaya became so vital. With her, we gained much needed creditability and influence in the region. And let me be clear, she is an ally.” – Shaw responded.

  “And yet, rumor is that this Captain how holds a royalty title. Under US law, that is forbidding. Last time I check, having a royal title of any kind is unamerican.” – Logan said.

  “There is nothing more American than a father standing by and protecting his children, and that is what we have done. Let me be clear, the United States will never adapt a nobility class like our European cousins have. The United States is a republic were all are equals. However, when she retook her throne, Captain Ryder was her father and step up to assist and protect. That required him to adapt the title of Duke within Alagore political system, otherwise it would undermine our objectives. The President support this, because family is what will win this war. Two people form different worlds working together to find peace. That is why we are there. That is why we are defending Salva and fighting the Unity.” – Shaw said. – Logan Show

  May 13th, 2069 (Military Calendar)

  Orackoo, the former Confederacy of Daru'uie

  Murbol Mountain Range, Nevali Region, Aldrida, Alagore

  *****

  Walking through the tight undersection of the City-State, Orackoo, the stench was overwhelming in the barely lit section, causing many in Ryder's party to become nauseated.

  The hallways were dark, with no torchlight within these sections, forcing Fraeya to use her limited knowledge of atomacy magic to cast a small illumination spell. This, combined with the attached flashlights on Ford's rifle and his Hispana ally, Vestalis, holding a glowing crystal attached to a metal rod, provided just enough light.

  "I am going to need a bath when I get home," Fraeya said.

  "Gonzales," Ford said. "I bet your medical training is flipping out right now."

  "Seeing all the black mold," Gonzales said. "We are going to need more than a bath after a Level Two decon."

  "You people fear the elements too much," Canina said.

  Gonzales stopped and turned toward the Centurion. "Black mold is not something to laugh about. We burn buildings down because of that stuff. That stuff ruins entire apartment complexes. People get lung rot. It's like inviting a plague into your house and giving it a blanket."

  "I fought in the Perios Fields and Vermia Swamps," Canina replied, with great weight to his words. "I understand the viral threat, but our duty comes first. There shall be potions once our mission is complete." He then brushed forward, following the Nagal representative.

  "If you have not noticed," Vestalis said, "our Centurion doesn't believe in letting the elements oppose you."

  "When I first enlisted," Ford said, "our company Sergeant was a hardcore like you. Rain, snow, heat—none of that mattered. We trained or fought. My men nicknamed him the Old Knight, and for good reason."

  "Then he might have earned the mark," Vestalis said.

  "What is this mark?" Gonzales asked. "I heard you guys mention it before."

  The Primipilus Centurion stopped, staring at the Altaerrie warriors. He then untied the armor plating on his right shoulder. To the Americans' surprise, it wasn't a tattoo or any form of ink modification, but a brand that said IX.

  "The Mark of the Ninth is given to only those who have shown great honor and duty to the Imperium."

  Ryder studied the brand. It wasn’t just the pain required to earn it—it was the pride behind it. There was something ancient about the number. A Roman ‘IX.’ For some reason, all the Captain could think about was the mysterious disappearance of the Roman Ninth Legion in Britain. Historians had never figured out what happened to them—only that it vanished from history.

  When Fraeya activated the command orb on the Alagore Bridge, it also activated the one on Earth, located in Britain. Those who discovered the device centuries ago believed it was only a Druid tribal relic, not an alien magitech portal.

  What if this wasn't a coincidence? What if the Legion hadn’t been lost, but... discovered the Earth Bridge and came here? It was obvious by now that the Lats of this world came from Earth, but no one had been able to confirm anything—only rumors based on their interaction with Horatius.

  He filed the thought away—crazy, maybe, but too specific to ignore.

  “The Lost Legion,” he murmured under his breath. “Christ, are we stepping into their shoes?”

  The Elf Girl shrieked and flailed as her foot slipped through what looked like solid ground, plunging into a pocket of wastewater. Her hands lit up in a panic, violet magic spiraling around her wrists as she called atomacy. The filthy liquid rippled unnaturally, forming a twisting vortex beneath her. She hovered, weightless for a second, before the spell flickered.

  Ford lunged in, grabbing her forearm and dragging her back just as the vortex collapsed.

  "This is horrible," Fraeya said after catching her breath. "How much longer?"

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  "Iffra?" Ryder asked.

  "We are almost there. I told you this would be unpleasant, but necessary."

  Watching the Nagal representative walk away through the City-State sewer, Ryder couldn't help but feel his elven mage's frustration.

  Over a decade ago, Toriffa annexed Orackoo to utilize its strategic position on the peninsula. Using the wider war with the Unity as a distraction and the weakening of Balan House's lordship over the region, the J'avais saw their opportunity to spread their influence and expand their slave-based war economy—and they attacked.

  According to the representative, the native Nagal population is being occupied and ruled over by the Toriffa City-State, which is used as a staging ground for raids and slave capture. Since then, they had been ruled with an iron fist, with the noble House acting more like a puppet than an ally.

  This was more than just backdoor diplomacy. If they could win over Orackoo without bloodshed, it meant securing the peninsula, establishing a friendly foothold, and weakening Toriffa's grip. Ryder knew this kind of political leverage was worth more than any battlefield victory.

  Because of this, a direct assault was ruled out. The 101st Battalion wasn't mobilized enough to begin any form of siege, and the primary objective of this operation was to make contact with the Hispana Republic Legion. The original plan was that when a second battalion arrived, they would attack the city while the evacuation began. However, if the American Duke could negotiate an alliance and remove the Toriffa garrison, it would give his people a vital anchor on this peninsula—let alone a strong defensive position for LZ X-Ray.

  To do this, though, a small team had to infiltrate past the Toriffa walls and head directly into the palace. It took another twenty minutes to navigate the city sewers, bypassing the walls. This required leaving half of Comanche and Horatius at the tree line, waiting with two other Minutemen Combat Teams to either assault if things went wrong or join in the city liberation.

  The representative stopped at a wooden manhole.

  "This is the place, leading into a food storage room."

  "Your food storage is under a sewer?" Gonzales asked.

  "It has always been like that," Iffra responded. "The ceiling is stone."

  The Comanche Captain had to comfort his medic, stating that the Filipino had to drop the subject. Once the representative opened the wooden door and stepped inside, the infiltration team rushed in. They quickly spread out, securing the flanks.

  "Everyone accounted for," Ford said.

  "Except for the Nagal," Vestalis said.

  For a split second, Ryder didn’t understand what the Legionary was saying before it finally clicked. Their guide had gone in first and could have easily disappeared. The ground glowed with lines, which Fraeya stated was a rune activating. Before the Comanche Captain could order an abort, everything went bright—then dark.

  *****

  The next thing Mathew Ryder felt was his vision hazing over, a massive migraine pounding in his skull. His muscles were numb, though strength slowly returned. That’s when he realized—he was being dragged across the floor.

  Soldiers clad in Toriffa silver and blue-tinted armor tossed the infiltration team onto the stone floor, landing them on an old, duty-worn red and green rug. Flags hung from the wooden ceiling, and candlelight illuminated the royal hall. The room was surprisingly warm thanks to two long, rectangular fireplaces.

  They were using fire as their primary source of heat and light, which surprised Ryder. At Salva and Forlace, electricity powered everything. But here, it didn’t.

  With a glance, Ryder confirmed Ford, Gonzales, Fraeya, Canina, and Vestalis were all present—no visible injuries. All were kneeling. Relief surged through him, but it quickly gave way to scrutiny as he assessed the people surrounding them.

  Their Nagal representative, Iffra, stood beside a throne. Another figure occupied it—presumably the city lord. Karnwyth remained still on his throne, watching the exchange with unreadable eyes.

  Other than the Nagal and Toriffa soldiers, most in the chamber were elite guards—at least this City-State’s version of them. Nearly a dozen Toriffa soldiers, all J'avais, stood watching. Some bantered, enjoying the fact they had captured them.

  From the group, one figure emerged. A human cousin with a heavy brow ridge, deep-set eyes, a broad, flat nose, and a chinless jaw sloping into a low forehead. He wore standard Toriffa armor—silver, with a faint blue tint.

  "You Lats continue to prove your inferiority to my kind," he said. "I am Santawirya, Chief of my File—the one who outsmarted you."

  "Inferiority?" Ford scoffed. "We humiliated your forces at Salva. Your armies are running."

  A guard slammed the butt of his staff weapon into Ford’s chest, knocking him to the ground. The Comanche Captain warned the others to stay silent, but he noticed Chief Santawirya approaching Centurion Canina.

  "The famous Centurion of the Imperium," Santawirya said with disdain. "You Lats delude yourselves as superior warriors. But look at you now. Your end has come. We will reclaim our rightful place as the dominant humans. And in celebration, I will slit your throat and display your corpse for all to see."

  Ryder watched Santawirya draw a knife from the vest of his medieval-style tactical armor. Fearing Canina would be executed, Ryder stood.

  "Of course you ignore me, you coward."

  That drew the J'avais attention. Santawirya marched toward Ryder, amber eyes seething with hatred. An escort leaned in and whispered something—explaining Ryder’s identity. The Chief grinned, as if this capture would make his career.

  "The fake American Duke of Salva, from my halls."

  “Within our halls,” corrected Karnwyth, the city’s lord.

  Santawirya chuckled, tension rising between the occupying J'avais and the proud Nagal lord.

  "Remember our agreement," the Chief growled. "Now, where was I?"

  Ryder’s eyes flicked to the drawn blade. He had to buy time. "We were about to make a deal," he said quickly.

  Santawirya laughed. So did the guards.

  "A deal? Why would I make a deal with your kind?"

  "Simple. I’m from Altaerrie."

  "You speak to me as if I’m a fool. Everyone knows this."

  "You miss the point. We’re all human. J’avais. Nagals. Lats. We come from the same birthworld—your orilla, the ancient homeland. Think about it."

  "And your point?"

  Ryder swept his gaze across the room. Every eye was on him. He glanced at Canina, who subtly nodded toward the ceiling. Ryder followed the cue.

  Kirath Trimptus—the neko scout—was maneuvering silently across the wooden rafters.

  Ryder exhaled sharply, intentionally drawing attention.

  “Chief Santawirya. Noble Karnwyth. The Centurion and I are Lat. You may be J’av, and he is Nagal. But we’re all human—rooted in the same origin. We don’t have to fight.”

  "I agree," Santawirya replied coldly. "So long as you recognize your status—beneath us."

  The arrogance in the Chief’s tone made Ryder’s stomach turn. This wasn’t just propaganda. It was a deep-rooted obsession with dominance.

  "That’s not going to happen," Ryder said. "And it doesn’t need to. You have access to your orilla home. I’m the American Duke. Father to the Princess of this region. There’s a history of distrust, but the Bridge can change that. We share a common origin. If we set aside rivalries, we can focus on the real threat."

  The Toriffa laughed again, louder this time.

  "You speak of kinship, yet we all remember what happened in the Altaerrie Orilla. If we’re all human, why did your kind slaughter ours?"

  He turned to address the room.

  "There shall be only one who rules! We fight—and all fear us! The Unity offers a great correction. The elvish pets—the Lats—will be crushed. The J'avais will become the dominant humans of Alagore… and Altaerrie."

  He leaned close, breath foul, blistered lips cracking.

  "If you want peace, fake Duke, have your slave princess surrender the throne. My Lord Chieftain will rule Nevali."

  "You can’t be that foolish."

  "We’re already halfway there. All of Nevali will kneel. Even the Vampires will recognize our greatness."

  "You think Toriffa can rule?" Ryder sneered. "You enslaved the dwarves. You’ve never built anything. I may be a self-appointed Duke, but in three months, we’ve done more than your whole history. Work with us—or get crushed."

  The Toriffa soldiers tensed.

  From the throne, Karnwyth finally spoke. "You speak of human unity. Why should we oppose the mighty Unity for you?"

  Santawirya pointed the knife at him.

  "Remember your place. Or we renegotiate our agreement."

  Ryder stepped forward.

  "My daughter didn’t have to retake the throne. She did it not from blood, but from conviction. We value freedom and liberty. That will be the foundation of our nation."

  The Toriffa scoffed.

  "Freedom—the cry of the weak. The bottom-feeders. You show your true colors, Altaerrie."

  Ryder clenched his jaw. The threat to his daughter had crossed a line.

  "You want to know why your kind lost power? You ruled Earth for millennia—and still lost. Not from faith, but failure. I’m offering you a second chance. My daughter and I want to build something better. A nation where everyone thrives. But your arrogance will be your downfall."

  Santawirya studied him—then laughed again.

  "A great people do not associate with the likes of you. Our time has come. Your death will prove it."

  He stepped aside. Another warrior stepped forward, raising a charged staff weapon.

  Before he could fire, a flechette ripped through his back.

  Panic erupted. Another enemy fell. The Chief pointed to the rafters.

  Kirath fired once more, then scrambled across the beams as energy blasts struck the ceiling. He leapt down, daggers drawn, and cut through two Toriffa warriors.

  Canina broke free of his bonds with a dagger-embedded rope. He freed Vestalis and tackled a J'avais. The elite Centurions, trained for hand-to-hand combat, struck terror into their captors.

  Ryder ordered them to free Fraeya. Once unshackled, she touched the ground. Her hand glowed cold-blue as she sent a tremor through the stone beneath them. The building shuddered. The concrete cracked, walls splintered. Enemies dove for cover.

  She cast a freezing spell, encasing a J'avais in ice. Then formed a water orb and lashed it like a whip, striking down two more enemies.

  Ryder, now free, tackled Santawirya—only to be struck hard in the back by an unseen attacker. The Chief kicked him off and fled.

  As Ryder fell, another J'avais raised a reverse staff. Before he could strike, Ford tackled him. Fraeya froze the armor, formed five alg spears, and drove them into the hostile’s chest.

  Ryder snatched an elecprobus and aimed at the nobleman—but Karnwyth held back his guards, merely observing. The Captain turned his focus on the remaining hostiles.

  "Ford, get our weapons. Canina, secure the chamber."

  "Where are you going?" Fraeya asked.

  "After the commander. If he escapes, we’re outnumbered."

  Ryder sprinted through the palace halls. Smaller than Salva's, less advanced. Torches replaced crystal lights. Patchy stone walls showed years of neglect.

  He burst into the entry chamber—intercepted by a guard. Their staff weapons clashed, exoskeleton joints equalizing Ryder’s strength. He swept the staff low, tripping the Nagal.

  About to strike, he hesitated—remembering Karnwyth’s order not to intervene. He stunned the guard instead.

  Cursing the delay, Ryder blasted the exit door. Splinters flew as he smashed through.

  A bang. Pain. He was down.

  A Nagal guard was reloading a musket-like coil gun. Santawirya stood beside him, sword raised.

  Ryder stood. The J'avais panicked—not because Ryder had survived the flechette, but because they were now vulnerable.

  Ryder fired at the coilman’s feet. Santawirya charged.

  The Captain fired again—miss. The blade came down. Ryder blocked, but the strike shattered his right elbow joint.

  He backed away. No cover. Couldn’t aim one-handed. Another block—he dropped his staff.

  Desperate, he attempted to grab his tomahawk melee weapon strapped to his left leg and deflected a strike—but lost the weapon.

  He tackled the Chief, grabbing the sword hilt. For a moment, he nearly overpowered him. But Santawirya broke free and slammed the blade against Ryder’s chestplate, knocking him down.

  Santawirya raised his sword for the kill—then was shot in the back.

  He turned—fatal mistake.

  Ryder lunged, wrapped him in a chokehold, locking the arm and legs.

  "Surrender," Ryder grunted.

  "Never!" Santawirya gasped.

  Seeing the dagger reaching for Ryder’s throat, the Captain tightened his hold and, with grim resolve, cracked the neck.

  The fight was over.

  With one arm, Ryder struggled to roll the body off. Fraeya and Ford helped him.

  "Thanks," he muttered. Ford unclipped the joint module.

  At the doorway stood Karnwyth— holding a circiletum sidearm.

  "Did you fire that?"

  "Yes, Duke of Salva."

  "Thank you."

  "Now what?" Fraeya asked.

  "Can I ask you something?" Karnwyth said.

  "Better than getting shot at. Shoot."

  "Did you mean what you said?"

  It took Ryder a second to understand. Then he nodded.

  "I did. We don’t carry that history between human races. I hoped we could build something together. The Unity is the enemy, not us."

  Centurion Canina entered, dragging a terrified J'avais.

  "I respect the attempt, Duke Ryder. But your world’s lack of racial politics doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist here."

  "The Lat Centurion is right," Karnwyth said. He looked at Ryder, placed a fist to his chest. "That said—I am open to hearing an offer. You seem more diplomatic than the J'avais."

  From the stairwell, more Toriffa warriors charged. Blasts impacted around them. The hostiles advanced in shield formation.

  Fraeya iced the floor—many slipped.

  Canina hoisted a fallen enemy and tossed him down the stairs, taking the rest with him.

  He laughed. "I always wanted to do that."

  Ryder stood, stunned. His goal had been to win over the city's nobility without a siege.

  He had expected failure.

  Instead, he reached out and shook the Chieftain’s hand.

  "Earth custom," he explained.

  In that moment, something shifted—not just in the palace, but in the city’s future.