The rain finally stopped sometime during the night.
For the first time in days, the morning sky above Atlas Base was clear.
The clouds had broken apart, revealing patches of blue overhead while sunlight reflected off puddles scattered throughout the compound. The air remained cold from the recent storms, but visibility had improved dramatically.
From the second-floor window of the administrative building, Marcus watched the base slowly come alive.
Mechanics were already working near the helicopter shelters.
Infantry squads jogged around the perimeter road under Tomas's supervision.
Supply trucks moved between warehouses.
Radio operators switched shifts inside the communications center.
Everything looked normal.
But Marcus's attention wasn't on the base.
It was on the sealed scroll resting on his desk.
The letter from King Aldric IV of Altford.
The same letter Edwin Falkner had personally delivered the previous night.
