A pause. Then I force the truth out.
“Now.”
That word changes the air around us. Because now is different than soon. Now is impact. Now is contact. Now is too late to adjust comfortably. Behind us, Magnus steps out of the council building, followed by Delilah and Conrad. He doesn’t ask for confirmation this time.
He just says, “Report.”
I turn slightly toward him.
“They’ve tightened the forest line,” I say. “Not scouting anymore. Formation shifts. Multiple groups aligning along northern and eastern approaches.”
Magnus absorbs that without blinking.
“Timeframe?”
I listen again. Deeper. My tiger presses forward, uneasy.
“Hours,” I say. “Maybe less.”
That lands hard. Even for him.
Delilah exhales slowly. “So the forest strike is coming at the same time as town pressure.”
“Yes,” I say.
Brooke mutters, “That’s… coordinated coordination.”
Conrad shoots her a look. “Not helpful.”
“It’s accurate,” she replies.
Magnus ignores them both.
“What about Damon?” he asks.
That’s the real question. I hesitate just a fraction. Because I don’t have a clean answer. But I do have a pattern.
“He’s not leading from the front,” I say finally. “He’s orchestrating distance pressure. Letting others test us while he maps response thresholds.”
Delilah frowns. “He’s learning us.”
“Yes.”
Conrad straightens slightly. “Then the real attack comes after he finishes learning.”
I nod once.
“Or during,” I say.
Silence follows that. Because everyone understands what that means. There won’t be a warning phase forever. There won’t be a buildup you can clearly separate from impact. At some point, the distinction disappears. Magnus exhales slowly.
“Double all perimeter rotations,” he says. “No gaps.”
Delilah is already typing something into her tablet. “I’ll coordinate civilian alert channels.”
Brooke pushes off the wall. “I’ll reinforce the café district routes. That’s a choke point.”
Conrad nods. “I’ll handle evacuation staging if needed.”
