Nyx
The Citadel feels colder these days. Not from the weather, but from the quiet hum of betrayal that lingers in the corridors. Every screen, every whisper, every courier report carries the same undertone. Something’s wrong with Orion’s forces.
At first, it was small things. Minor delays in border patrols. Supply convoys rerouted without notice. Soldiers “forgetting” to check in on time. Nothing that screamed defiance. Just enough to irritate, to make me question whether I was losing control or if the universe was testing my patience.
Now it’s no longer subtle. Two days ago, an entire squad under Orion’s command crossed into unmarked territory without clearance. The press spun it into a victory headline before the ink was even dry. “Orion Secures the Northern Ridge, Acting in Nyx’s Nam
