Reality on the other side pressed against us like glass about to shatter.
I released the working.
The Veil let us go.
We landed hard.
Five hundred soldiers hit the forest ground in perfect formation, the impact sending tremors through the packed earth. Several stumbled. A few dropped to one knee. But no one fell, and no one screamed. When I frantically counted the nearest ranks, every single person had made the crossing intact.
Relief hit so powerfully my knees nearly buckled.
Daemon's hand caught my elbow, steadying me before anyone else noticed. "Breathe."
I did, pulling air into lungs that felt scorched from holding the spell. The protective guard closed ranks around me immediately, shields raised despite no visible threat.
Malzaun's voice cut through the disorientation. "Sound off by battalion!"
"First! Accounted for!"
"Second! Accounted for!"
"Third! Accounted for!"
"Fourth! Accounted for!"
The confirmations came crisp and certain. No one lost. No one separated or left behind in the spaces between worlds.
I had actually done it.
But before pride or satisfaction could fully register, the smell hit.
Smoke.
Thick, acrid, and wrong. It wasn’t the clean scent of cookfires or even burning wood. This carried the stench of burning flesh, spoiled meat, and corruption given physical form.
The forest around us stood silent. No birds. No insects. No ambient noise of living things going about their existence. Just oppressive, unnatural stillness, broken only by our own breathing and the distant sound of screaming.
Kaelen moved to the tree line, her expression hardening to stone. "Forward scouts. Confirm position and assess the city."
Three soldiers melted into the underbrush, moving with practiced silence. The rest of us waited, tension building with each passing second.
One scout returned within minutes, face pale beneath dirt and camouflage. "Ma'am. You need to see this."
Kaelen gestured. The battalions shifted formation, spreading into defensive positions while maintaining cohesion. My protective guard moved with me as I followed Kaelen and Daemon toward the forest's edge.
We emerged onto a ridge overlooking the capital.
Horror stole my breath.
The city burned.
Not from siege or attack, but from within. Fires raged through entire districts unchecked, consuming buildings while citizens ran screaming through smoke-choked streets. But they weren’t fleeing the flames. They were attacking each other.
Through the haze, I watched people tear into their neighbors with bare hands. Watched shops being looted and destroyed not for supplies, but for the violence itself. Watched bodies lying in the streets while others stepped over them without pause, eyes fixed on new targets.
The sky above the capital hung blood-dark despite the sun’s position suggesting midday. Unnatural clouds roiled and churned, shot through with veins of sickly green light that pulsed in rhythm with something beneath the city.
Something in the throne room.
