Tension snapped like a frayed Thread.
Mira stepped forward, fist clenched, Thread humming faint around her knuckles—binding her own resolve, ready to lash out at the stranger who'd just dropped a Marchwarden like trash. Smoke curled from Drenn's unconscious form, veins still leaking Flux-backlash smoke. Reach survivors circled wary, Brands flickering low.
"Back off, outsider," Mira snarled, stance low. "You drop in, core our bomber, now what? Spy?"
Joren raised empty hands, Echo cooling in his veins—no replay needed for this standoff. Dirt-streaked, breathing heavy, but eyes steady. "Not fighting a defenseless girl. Lower the fist."
Mira blinked—insult or shield?—but didn't swing. Elior coughed behind her, Hearth dimly patching his charred ribs, dragging himself up with Mira's shoulder. He locked eyes on Joren, saw the Echo afterglow fading from the kid's pupils, pieced the takedown: low-Flux precision, no waste.
"Defenseless?" Elior rasped, voice steadying under self-Hearth. "She dropped three March scouts before your show. But you... you read him clean. Knew the Brand. The tells. Who are you?"
Joren glanced at bound Drenn—ropes from Reach survivors, Flux-seals courtesy of a minor Bind user. "Joren. Echo lets me see true—moments, strikes, lies. Saw your whole fight replayed. He's Sera's trigger man."
Elior's gaze sharpened—recruitment math instant. Reach needed edges. Sustain alone wouldn't beat Kael's iron. "Join us. Verdant needs eyes like that. War's Brands clash blind—we fight shadows."
Joren hesitated, Garden stone heavy in pocket. Echo whispered futures: bombs, betrayals, fractures. "I'll think on it. Interrogate him first. Might spill on the next wave."
Elior nodded—wise play. "Mira, drag him to the holds. Joren—walk with us." Reach line reformed, hauling Drenn toward makeshift command tent. Fields smoked behind, war's scar permanent.
400 miles north, Ashen March vanguard camp.
Sera's fist crushed the scout's report—iron splintered. Cindervein ignited wild, veins glowing ember-red, heat warping air. "Drenn's down? Some Reach runt cored him?!"
Scout stammered, face ashen. "Echo Brand, they say. Kid dropped from nowhere—knew Blastcore inside-out. Airship pulled clear."
Sera's scars split, fire leaking. "Elior's breathing. Drenn caged. Neriah's coast rats sat it out. Orun's seals too damn slow." Rage boiled Flux dangerously—overheat risk imminent.
"No more probes. Full assault." She slammed table, map charring. "Hit Reach heartland. Stone Crown's passes next—force Orun's hand. Wildborn scatter? Burn their trails. Coast plays neutral? Sink their veiled ships."
Kael's shadow loomed in tent flap, Ironwake steady. "Calculated?"
"They embarrassed us," Sera spat. "Now we end them."
Scout saluted out. Camp horns blared—marching orders. Ashen forges screamed hotter.
War escalated. Fractures widened. Joren's Echo just became target #1.