When The Order Falls

The fortress was silent, save for the sound of Veylan's knee hitting the cold, bloodstained stone. The weight of surrender settled like an iron shroud over the gathered remnants of the Radiant Order. Rain drizzled from the heavens, whispering against broken banners, washing away nothing.

He could feel the stares. Some burned with disbelief, others with barely contained fury. Malakar's grip on his weapon tightened, his knuckles pale as frost. His jaw clenched as if grinding bone to dust. This was not what he had expected. Not what he had fought for.

The Enforcer remained unmoved, watching from beneath the steel weight of his helm. He did not savor victory. He did not bask in dominance. He simply accepted it as the inevitable conclusion to a game already won.