The morning mist hung low over the outer plain of the First Citadel as dawn broke on Day Twenty-Four.
Beyond the reinforced outer ramparts, a sea of over fifty thousand refugees stretched across the valley, clutching crumpled government seizure notices in their hands.
"Look at the crowd gathered outside the perimeter," Diana said, lowering her binoculars as she stood atop the watchtower.
"They have walked through the night from three neighboring Directorate cities," Diana reported, zooming in on the long columns of weary citizens.
"Many of them have carried their wounded relatives across twenty miles of broken highways," Diana added, her voice full of sympathy.
"They braved wild beast packs and roving mercenary patrols to reach our gates," Diana continued, watching the line stretch toward the distant hills.
"The children are exhausted and shivering under thin plastic sheets," Diana observed, adjusting the magnification on her visor.
