The air was still—too still.
Above the Sanctum, clouds churned unnaturally, a quiet pressure weighing down on the land as though the heavens themselves were waiting to breathe.
From the control chamber of the Command Nexus, Arlen finished tightening the final etherium bolt into the core relay. A low hum rose from the chamber's foundation—arcane lines pulsating across every floor, etched deep into metal, mana, and stone.
"Reactors stable," he muttered, wiping grease and sweat from his brow. "We're ready for ignition."
Across the hall, Kael stood beside Iden at the command podium. A shimmering interface floated in front of them, displaying the map of the realm—territories, alliances, hostile signatures, and in the center: Sanctum.
Floating above the capital marker was a new glyph.
PROJECT: FALLOUT (PROTOTYPE – STAGE ONE)Status: Final CalibrationPower Source: Triple Concentrated Mana CoreArmament Payload: 200 'Big One' aerial assault constructs, each equipped with mini warhead clustersMana Depletion Cost: 90% of regional ambient energy
Iden studied the readouts, then lowered his hand.
"No one else knows," Arlen said, softly.
"They will soon," Iden replied. "But only when it's too late to stop it."
The first drone lifted into the sky at 0800 hours, launching with a silent burst of compressed air and reverse-mag pulse.
The sleek construct—a hybrid between ancient blueprints and Arlen's weaponized engineering—bore the shape of a bird forged in the crucible of war. No feathers. Just angular alloy plating and reactor veins pulsing blue-white.
Kael watched with restrained awe as more drones began to rise in perfect formation.
Ten.Twenty.Forty.
By midday, all two hundred aerial warframes hovered above the outer Sanctum barrier, locked into rotational orbit by the sky-anchor pylons installed the week prior.
"They're sleeping titans," Nyra whispered from the courtyard below."And when they wake, the world will remember why they feared the skies."
In a chamber buried beneath the inner forge, Iden personally oversaw the vault where the master control rune was kept—etched with both Arlen's code and Kael's soul-sealed barrier.
Only Iden could utter the phrase.Only Iden could trigger what they now referred to as Skies of 1945.
And the phrase was not to be spoken in haste.
Rumors of Sanctum's sudden rise spread like wildfire.
The Silver Coast Kingdom sent its envoy.The Verdant Circle activated its war council.The Blackfang Remnants—once rulers of the southern mountains—started fortifying their borders.
None of them knew the truth.None of them understood what Sanctum had become.
But they all feared one thing:
What kind of power does it take to silence Valtross and raise an empire from bone and flame?
At the edge of the portal gate, a cloaked figure emerged from the fog of transit.
He wore no armor, carried no blade—but his eyes shimmered like coin, and his presence carried weight.
Trader_Viper—one of the first known candidates, and a shadow from Iden's earliest days in this world.
He brought with him a crate marked "Sealed—World Relic Grade."
Inside:
A Mana Infusion Catalyst, capable of accelerating blueprint testing by 300%.
Two legendary defensive schematics, never before seen.
A silent scroll, inscribed with the phrase: "We remember the one who fed the desperate."
"I owe you," Viper said plainly. "And I trade in survival."
Iden welcomed him—quietly, without ceremony.
Behind his eyes, new plans began to form.
As dusk fell over Sanctum, the sky-patrol drones held their positions—silent, unmoving, waiting.
Rael stood by Iden as they watched the stars break through the black.
"You think we'll have to use it?" she asked softly.
"I hope not," he replied. "But if the abyss answers our silence with war…"
He turned, eyes glinting cold with resolve.
"In ruins, let hope ignite. A flicker of madness, a beacon of light."