Game Changing?

The wooden doors of the inner keep slammed shut behind Roux as his men rushed in, panting and bloodied from the brutal fight outside. The air was thick with the smell of gunpowder, sweat, and the metallic tang of blood.

Fort Saint-Louis was falling.

And Roux knew it.

His forces had fought fiercely, but Masséna's assault had been relentless. The east gate had crumbled under cannon fire, and now, Elysean troops swarmed through the breach like a flood. If they had remained any longer, they would have been overwhelmed.

Roux turned to Captain Giraud and Lieutenant Vasseur, his most trusted officers, who had followed him into the keep. Their expressions were grim, their uniforms stained with the blood of both friend and foe.

"We hold here," Roux said, his voice sharp but unwavering. "Masséna wants to end this today? Then let's see if he has the stomach for a final fight."

Giraud wiped a streak of dirt from his forehead. "How long can we last?"