---
Meanwhile the morning did not arrive kindly for Iron House. It arrived in layers of humiliation.
The first men reached the warehouse shortly after dawn with the ordinary arrogance of workers sent to open a place they still believed belonged to them. They had come carrying keys, account slates, and the dull confidence of people who expected routine. The western roads had been restless since yesterday, yes, but Iron House had moved fast. They had consolidated stock, shifted reserve ledgers, tightened guards, and brought the most important business under one larger roof. That had been the smart move. The safe move. The move was made by men who believed they understood pressure well enough to stand above it.
Then they opened the front.
The first thing they noticed was the smell.
Blood.
