The old conference room felt colder than usual. A single flickering bulb hung from the ceiling, casting long shadows on the cracked walls. The table in the center was scratched and worn, surrounded by eight serious faces—men and women who had seen too much and slept too little. Governor Ramirez sat at the head of the table, silent, fingers pressed together as he looked at the others. Beside him, Commander Ortega crossed her arms, while Councilor Ibanez kept glancing at the door, as if expecting it to open any second.
Engineer Sison leaned back in his chair with a sigh, and Dr. Reyes quietly adjusted her glasses. Across from them, Captain Laurel tapped his fingers on the table without realizing it. Logistics Head Amparo said nothing, but her sharp eyes missed nothing. Finally, Advisor Navarro sat with his hands on his cane, silent but alert.
It had been only a few hours since Rafael and his group had returned. Their sudden reappearance had shaken the entire stronghold. People whispered in the halls, asking questions no one could answer. Where had they been? What happened to the mission? And most of all… what was this "Citadel" they kept mentioning?
Governor Ramirez finally spoke. "Bring them in. We need to hear their story."
A soldier nearby gave a quick nod and left the room. The sound of his boots echoed down the hallway, fading with every step.
Soon, Rafael and his group appeared in the doorway, faces tired but determined. They stepped into the room, feeling the heavy weight of the leaders' gazes. The tension was thick as the group approached the worn table.
Governor Ramirez's voice broke the silence. "Rafael Mendoza, we have been watching. You and your group mention a place called the Citadel. What is this place, and what have you been doing there?"
Commander Ortega leaned forward, arms crossed, her sharp eyes unyielding. "You claim to have found safety there. But we've heard no word of such a place. Are you spies? Or worse, deserters?"
Captain Laurel added impatiently, "And what of your mission? The last we heard, you were to scout for food and medical supplies, not vanish."
Rafael met their scrutiny steadily. "The Citadel is a sanctuary, a stronghold built to protect survivors like us. It is fortified, supplied, and governed by people committed to rebuilding."
Dr. Reyes nodded slowly, her face lined with hardship but showing cautious hope. "We've seen many promises fall to dust. What proof do you have that the Citadel is real and that it can help us?"
Engineer Sison grunted, the scar on his cheek tightening. "We've been scraping to survive here for many years. If this Citadel can help us, why did you not bring aid sooner?"
Rafael swallowed, feeling the weight of their doubts. "We didn't know it was safe until recently. When we arrived, we found people ready to help us, instructors, warriors and healers. They prepared to send support, but first, they need to understand the situation here."
Logistics Head Amparo, silent until now, finally spoke with quiet firmness. "If what you say is true, then our survival depends on this alliance. We cannot do it alone."
Advisor Navarro leaned on his cane and added, "Very well. Tell us everything you know and we will judge whether your story is hope… or folly."
Rafael took a deep breath, steadying himself as all eyes bore down on him. "After we left the stronghold, we traveled to the old ruined city, Metro Manila. Our mission was to find food and medical supplies, as ordered. But as soon as we entered the ruins, we were ambushed."
He paused, memories flashing vividly. "Monsters attacked us from all sides—left, right, even from above. It was chaos. We fought hard, but the creatures were relentless. We lost some of our people that day." His voice cracked slightly.
A murmur rippled through the room, but Rafael pressed on. "Just when it seemed like we would be overwhelmed, a stranger appeared. Master Protheus fought with powerful magic beyond anything we have seen. He saved us."
Governor Ramirez leaned forward. "Protheus, you say? Who is he exactly? Why did you not mention him before?"
Rafael met the governor's gaze. "He is the leader of the Citadel. A man with unmatched magic, strength, and knowledge. After the ambush, he guided us safely through the ruins and brought us to the Citadel, a place of hope and protection."
Dr. Reyes nodded slowly. "So the Citadel is real and has the means to defend against these monsters?"
Rafael gave a firm nod. "Yes. The Citadel is prepared to help us, but they need to understand our situation here first."
The room fell silent again as the leaders absorbed Rafael's words. The story of their ambush, their losses, and their salvation brought a grim reality to their plans—and a faint glimmer of hope.
Rafael reached into his satchel and carefully pulled out a folded piece of parchment, its edges curled from travel. The leaders' eyes followed his every movement.
"I have something to show you," Rafael said, holding the letter up so all could see. "Protheus asked me to deliver this to you."
Governor Ramirez nodded sharply. "Let us hear what this Protheus has to say."
Rafael unfolded the letter and read aloud, his voice steady but filled with the weight of the message:
"To the leaders of the stronghold in Laguna,
I am Protheus, the one who once saved a group of survivors who now call this Citadel their home. I write to you with an invitation. If you are willing, I welcome you to send your strongest, your wisest, or your leaders to our Citadel. Here, they may learn healing, magic, combat, and the ways of survival.
You are not forgotten.
If you accept, your messengers will find safety here. If you choose to stay where you are, we will still offer aid whenever we can.
Hope remains, so long as we stand together.
Protheus."
As Rafael finished, he carefully refolded the letter. Silence lingered like a fragile promise.
Governor Ramirez's steely gaze softened ever so slightly. "This Protheus does not only offer aid but a future—training in the skills we will need to survive what lies ahead."
Dr. Reyes exchanged a glance with Engineer Sison. "Healing, magic, combat… These are the very things we lack here."
Logistics Head Amparo tapped her fingers thoughtfully. "Sending our best to learn and return could strengthen our entire stronghold."
Commander Ortega, who had remained stern, finally spoke. "It is a risk to send our strongest away, but the alternative is staying isolated and vulnerable."
Advisor Navarro nodded. "This letter is more than words. It is a lifeline."
Rafael looked at the group earnestly. "We have seen the Citadel. It is real and safe. And they are ready to help."
The leaders shared a long, heavy look before Governor Ramirez stood slowly, breaking the silence. "Then we will consider this invitation carefully. The survival of our people depends on choices like these."
The atmosphere shifted from suspicion to cautious hope as the promise of aid rekindled a spark within the weary hearts gathered around the table.
Rafael carefully folded the letter and placed it back into his satchel. He exchanged a determined look with his companions. Without waiting for any further questions, Rafael motioned for the group to follow him. Together, they turned toward the heavy metal door. The atmosphere inside the room remained thick with tension and anticipation as they walked steadily out.
The door creaked shut behind them, muffling the voices inside. The corridor felt cold and quiet compared to the charged energy they had just left. Rafael and his team moved down the narrow passage, footsteps echoing softly against the cracked walls. Each carried a mixture of relief, exhaustion, and the weight of what they had shared.
Behind the closed door, the eight leaders remained seated around the rough wooden table. The letter from Protheus lay in the center, a fragile thread of hope in the heavy silence.
Governor Ramirez was the first to break the quiet, his voice low but firm. "If what Rafael and his group say is true, if Protheus truly exists and wields such power, then this could be the turning point we have been searching for."
Councilor Ibanez's eyes narrowed with suspicion. "True or not, how can we trust a stranger? We have been deceived too many times by empty promises. What if this Citadel is just another trap?"
Engineer Sison leaned forward, fingers stroking his chin thoughtfully. "We need evidence. Supplies, weapons, or anything tangible that proves the Citadel's existence and strength."
Dr. Reyes adjusted her glasses, speaking calmly. "The offer of healing, magic, and combat training is tempting. If this place exists, it could mean the difference between life and death for many of us."
Captain Laurel drummed his fingers nervously on the table. "But what about those left behind here? If we send away our strongest fighters, won't that leave us exposed?"
Logistics Head Amparo nodded slowly. "Perhaps a small delegation, only the best fighters and strategists, could go. They would gain knowledge and return stronger to help us all."
Commander Ortega's tone was grave. "We must be careful. Sending people without a clear plan could cost us dearly. What if Protheus's invitation is a lure to weaken us?"
Advisor Navarro looked steadily at the letter. "Still, this is the only offer of unity we have received. Alone, we fall. Together, we have a chance."
Governor Ramirez sighed and pushed the letter toward the center of the table. "We will consider this carefully. For now, no word of this invitation leaves this room. Our people need certainty, not false hope."
The leaders exchanged solemn looks, the weight of their responsibility heavy on their shoulders. Outside, the sun set slowly, casting long shadows over the stronghold walls. Inside, the fate of their people rested on the fragile promise of a letter from a stranger named Protheus.
The stone corridor was still. The muffled sound of the council's ongoing discussion echoed faintly through the heavy doors. Rafael and the others stood gathered outside, their shoulders tense, their faces clouded with uncertainty.
"So... what do you think they'll say?" Joshua asked, arms crossed. "The council, I mean."
"They'll say no," Patricia answered bluntly. "They'll debate, hesitate, and in the end, decide it's too risky."
Miguel sighed. "Maybe. Or maybe they'll just say we're naïve."
"But we can't leave them here," Sofia murmured. "Not the kids. Not the old ones…"
"They're starving," Maria whispered. "The stronghold's breaking apart, even if no one admits it."
Then, from behind them, a calm but firm voice cut through the quiet.
"You won't have to wait for their answer."
The group turned in unison.
Thalion emerged from the corridor's far end like a shadow taking shape—his boots barely making a sound on the cracked stone floor. His expression was as unreadable as always, but his voice carried the weight of finality.
Rafael stepped forward. "Master Thalion?"
The elven warrior nodded once, eyes sharp as ever.
"I waited for the right moment. Now is that moment."
He reached into the folds of his cloak and drew out a rolled parchment, bound in dark silk. His fingers unwrapped it slowly, with care. But instead of reading, he spoke.
"This is a direct order from His Majesty—meant only for your ears."
They leaned in instinctively.
Thalion's next words were quiet but clear. "We are to begin the immediate evacuation of the children, the elderly, and the willing women of this stronghold. Not after the council decides. Not if they agree. We start regardless."
Shock rippled through the group.
"What?" Angela blinked. "We're doing it… now?"
Thalion's tone never wavered. "Three nights from now. Quietly. No attention. No debate. His majesty has made the decision. We are not to delay hope because of fear."
"But how?" Vincent asked. "We can't just walk them out the gates. That's suicide."
That's when Vaelrya and Lythiel stepped forward from the nearby corridor, having waited for Thalion's signal.
Vaelrya's silver eyes glinted in the dim light. "We won't walk."
Lythiel's smile was soft, almost mischievous. "We'll fly."
Rafael's eyes widened. "You mean… actually fly? With the evacuees?"
Vaelrya lifted a hand. Light shimmered along her fingertips, forming delicate a magical circle with runes.
"We've spent time mapping air currents, identifying safe paths, and testing weight limits. Lythiel and I can both fly and more importantly, we can make others fly."
Lythiel added, "Not with wings or machines. With magical flying spells and wrapped in silence spells. The air will carry them like feathers on the wind."
Joshua let out a breath. "That's insane. Brilliant. But insane."
"Can we even lift that many people?" Maria asked, skepticism warring with awe.
"We won't do it all at once," Lythiel said. "Small groups. Quietly. Each night. We enchant them in their homes or shelters. Then we lift them from the rooftops and guide them through the cloud cover, out over the southern hills."
"We'll rendezvous in the highlands beyond the ruins," Vaelrya added. "From there, we open a portal and send them directly to the Citadel's inner fields."
Rafael stared at them, stunned. "You've already thought it through."
Thalion gave a small nod. "Of course we have. This was never just a visit. It was reconnaissance."
Clarisse looked between the instructors. "If we start in three nights… how long will it take?"
"Five to six days total," Vaelrya answered. "We'll need that much time to get them all out safely. Less if we split into more teams."
Mark grinned. "Now that's His Majesty-level plan."
"Not just his," Thalion said. "Ours. You're leading the coordination inside the stronghold. Choosing who gets out first, making sure the sick are stabilized. Caelum, Nythorel, and Serael will prepare those who can't stand or speak. The rest of you—" he looked at Rafael's team "—you'll be our ground team. You know this place. You know who needs help."
Patricia's eyes burned with purpose. "We'll start with the nursery blocks and the southern infirmary."
Miguel was already making calculations. "We can put a mark on which are ready each night."
Vincent cracked his knuckles. "And I'll deal with anyone who asks too many questions."
"Quietly," Angela warned.
"Quietly," Vincent agreed, grinning.
Sofia turned to the instructors. "What if the council finds out midway?"
"We'll already be too far along to stop," Lythiel said. "And if they confront us, they'll find the people already gone."
"Gone to where they can live again," Vaelrya finished.
There was a long, charged silence. Then Rafael nodded.
"This is it," he said. "We do what the council is too afraid to do."
Thalion rolled the parchment again, slipping it back into his cloak.
"Hope doesn't wait for permission," he said. "It just moves—quietly, and with purpose."