The situation at Checkpoint One, 400 miles from the Citadel, was desperate.
Tens of thousands of orcs surged forward like a tide of death, chasing 400,000 fleeing civilians. Overhead, wyverns ridden by dark elves circled, picking off stragglers and spreading terror among the people below.
The civilians, driven by panic, created chaos in their attempt to escape. Fear turned their flight into a disorganized stampede, resulting in countless casualties. Among them, a contingent of thirty magus protectors struggled to maintain order and fend off the relentless orc assault.
"Major! What are your orders? Major Zoller!"
The shout broke through the cacophony of battle, but the grand magus hesitated. His usually steady demeanor faltered as he grasped the dire reality of their situation.