Chapter 10: Massacre Unveiled

The cave walls dripped with melted frost, the air heavy with exhaustion and old ash. Nora stood near a holo-projector salvaged from Blackstone’s ruins, arms crossed, jaw clenched.

“Play it,” she said.

Sable hesitated. “Once we see it, we can’t unsee it.”

“Play it.”

Lyall tapped the console.

The recording flickered to life—drone footage, timestamped six years ago. Greywing village. Smoke rising. Figures running.

Then the gunships.

Then the command.

*“Open fire. Full sweep. No survivors.”*

A young male voice.

Calm. Cold. Certain.

Cyrus.

Lyall’s breath caught. “That’s him.”

Sable stared. “He gave the order.”

Nora didn’t blink. She’d known.

But knowing wasn’t the same as hearing.

She watched the screen show her neighbors falling. The grain shed exploding. Her mother’s scarf trampled under a soldier’s boot.

And still—she watched.

Until the last frame: the silver insignia on a young officer’s cloak.

She turned off the projection.