It doesn’t take long.
Fear never does.
What starts as whispers… becomes stories.
What becomes stories… turns into belief.
By the third day, the shift is undeniable.
Messengers arrive with “concerns.” Scouts report hesitation at borders. Allied Alphas who once stood firm beside Redmoon now send careful, measured words instead of loyalty.
Not refusal.
But not trust either.
Inside the war room, the tension is suffocating.
“They’re pulling back patrol support,” Dean says, frustration clear in his voice. “Not all of them—but enough.”
Felix scoffs from the side. “Of course they are. Easier to blame us than face what’s actually coming.”
Genelia crosses her arms, her expression tight. “It’s spreading faster than we thought.”
Jack stands at the head of the table, unmoving.
Too still.
