Dawn came grey and cold through the briefing room windows.

The benches were packed. Hunters from every squad filled the space—some still in field gear, some rubbing sleep from their eyes, all of them quiet. The usual chatter was gone. No one joked. No one complained about the coffee.

Alistair stood at the podium. His face was grim, the lines deeper than usual. He hadn’t slept. The team could see it in the way his hands gripped the edges of the lectern.

He spoke without preamble.

"The Ashen Guard is moving to full war footing. All leaves are canceled. All patrols are doubled. The Council has authorized emergency protocols not used since the last major breach."

The room stayed silent.

Hunters exchanged glances. Some nodded. Some just stared at the floor. They knew what this meant. They’d heard the rumors—the pendant, the coalition, the blood moon. Now the rumors had teeth.

Alistair continued. "Effective immediately, every available hunter will be assigned to Veil defense. No one sits out. No one watches from the sidelines. We are all in."

He dismissed the room.

Hunters filed out in silence.

---

Alistair called Ashen Dawn forward after the main briefing.

The team gathered around the podium. Cora stood with her arms crossed. Mason’s gauntlets were already on. Sera had her crossbow slung across her back. Derek’s ghosts hovered close, agitated.

Alistair spread a map across the lectern. Three locations marked in red.

"Veil weak points. The barrier is thinnest here, here, and here." He tapped each one. "You’ll patrol them in rotation. Expect demon activity. Possibly coalition scouts."

Cora frowned. "Are we on our own?"

"Reinforcements are spread thin. You’ll have backup if things go sideways, but not before." Alistair looked at each of them. "You need to be self-sufficient."

Mason nodded. Sera adjusted her crossbow. Derek swallowed but said nothing.

Lucian studied the map. "We’ll handle it."

Alistair held his gaze for a moment. Then he stepped back. "Dismissed."

---

The Training Yard

The training yard was empty when they arrived.

Lucian took charge. He’d been studying tactics since the Atlantean ruin, since Voss’s infiltration, since the moment the pendant slipped through his fingers. He’d learned from failure. He wouldn’t repeat it.

He gathered the team in a loose circle.

"New formations," he said. "Diamond for defense. Wedge for breaking enemy lines. Tight circle for protecting Derek while he summons ghosts."

Cora raised an eyebrow. "You’ve been busy."

"Someone has to be."

He ran them through the drills. Diamond first—Cora at the point, Mason on the right flank, Sera on the left, Derek in the center, Lucian at the rear. They moved across the yard, adjusting positions, correcting angles.

Cora protested at first. "This leaves me exposed."

"It leaves you where you’re most effective."

She opened her mouth, then closed it. She saw the logic.

They moved to the wedge. Mason and Cora at the front, Sera and Derek behind them, Lucian at the back. They practiced breaking through a line of training dummies, cutting left and right, reforming.

Mason adapted quickly. Sera adjusted her positioning without being told. Derek struggled—his ghosts kept drifting out of formation—but he kept trying.

Lucian corrected him. "Keep them close. They’re your shield, not your scouts."

Derek nodded. Pulled the ghosts in.

They ran the wedge again. Better.

---

Cora pulled Lucian aside during a water break.

The others were across the yard, catching their breath. Derek was leaning on his staff, his ghosts tucked close. Mason was checking his gauntlets. Sera was reloading her crossbow.

Cora’s voice was low. "Are you ready for this?"

Lucian looked at her. "I have to be."

"That’s not what I asked."

He was quiet for a moment. The training yard stretched around them, empty and cold.

"I don’t know if anyone’s ready," he said. "But I’ve been thinking about Voss. About the pendant. About what happens if we fail."

"And?"

"And I won’t let that happen."

Cora studied his face. "You’re not alone."

"I know." His voice was distant. "But sometimes it feels like it."

She put a hand on his arm. "Focus on the team. We’ll get through this."

He nodded. "I am."

She didn’t believe him, but she let it go.

---

Later that day

Alistair gathered the team in the library that afternoon.

The restricted section was a narrow room behind a locked door. Shelves lined the walls, filled with old texts—some bound in leather, some in stranger materials. The air smelled of dust and age.

He pulled a heavy volume from the highest shelf and spread it open on the table.

"The Veil wasn’t built all at once," he said. "It was layered over centuries. Each generation added wards, anchors, reinforcement."

He pointed to a diagram—a series of concentric circles, each one labeled with a date.

"The pendant was one of the anchors. It held the barrier steady in the eastern region. Without it, the Veil is weaker."

Cora leaned forward. "How much weaker?"

"Enough that Valentine can exploit the gaps."

Alistair flipped pages. Maps of past breaches—where the Veil had torn, how hunters had sealed it. The First Crossers were mentioned as the original threat, but no Elohim. The team absorbed what they could.

Derek pointed to a sketch. "What’s this?"

"A seal from the last major breach. 1802. Hunters used it to close a rift that had opened for three days." 𝐟𝚛𝕖𝚎𝕨𝗲𝐛𝚗𝐨𝐯𝐞𝕝.𝐜𝗼𝗺

"Could we use it again?"

"The knowledge is here. The materials are not." Alistair closed the book. "We fight with what we have."

---

Night patrol.

The city’s edge was quiet. Too quiet.

Ashen Dawn walked the line of the Veil’s weak points—alleyways, empty lots, the backs of warehouses. The streets were deserted. No cars. No pedestrians. Just cold wind and the distant hum of the barrier.

Lucian led, his blades drawn. Cora watched the shadows, her hand on her sword. Mason scanned for heat signatures, his gauntlets glowing faintly. Sera extended her life sense, feeling for anything that shouldn’t be there. Derek kept his ghosts spread wide, their cold presence a warning.

They found the corpse in an alley behind a boarded-up shop.

A demon. Low-rank. Freshly killed.

Cora crouched beside it. "Coalition markings."

Mason pointed to a symbol carved into the creature’s chest. "This isn’t ours."

"Someone else is hunting," Lucian said.

He scanned the shadows. Nothing moved.

"Stay alert."

They moved on.

---

Back at the Keep, Alistair examined the markings.

He was quiet for a long time.

"The Coalition is probing the Veil’s defenses," he said. "Looking for the weakest point. This demon was a scout—killed by another faction within the alliance. They’re not united."

Cora frowned. "That’s good for us."

"It means they’re desperate. Desperate enemies are dangerous." Alistair looked at them. "The blood moon is days away. We need to be ready for anything."

The team dispersed.

Lucian lingered.

Alistair didn’t look up. "Get some sleep."

"Alistair."

He looked up.

"Do you believe we can win?"

Alistair held his gaze. The lines on his face seemed deeper in the low light.

"I believe we have to."