The door groaned shut behind us, sealing out the frantic noise of the village. Inside the tower, the air felt cooler. Torchlight flickered along the walls, throwing wild shadows as soldiers rushed past us.

  Chaos. Controlled chaos, but chaos all the same.

  Boots pounded up and down the spiraling staircase that wrapped around the tower’s interior. Men shouted orders. Someone sprinted by carrying a crate of arrows. Another group hauled a rolled-up ballista rope as thick as my arm. Their faces were pale, sweaty, tense.

  Yeah. These people were preparing for war.

  “Up,” one of the guards said, motioning me onto the stairs.

  Lexi hovered behind my shoulder, silently taking it all in, her pages fluttering in the draft from soldiers running past.

  We climbed. Thirty steps. Forty. My legs burned slightly. Each level we passed had something different: a hastily assembled medic station, an armory stacked with spears and crude shields, a storage floor filled with barrels of water. The higher we went, the louder the building creaked, like the tower itself was bracing for what was coming.

  Finally, we reached the top.

  The guard opened a heavy door, and I stepped into what had to be the commander’s war room.

  It was impressive. A massive circular table dominated the center, carved from dark wood and reinforced with metal bands. On top sat a 3D map: miniature hills, trenches, trees, and tiny carved figurines representing troop placements. A dim magical light glowed beneath the pieces, red lines pulsing to mark enemy approach routes.

  To the left, another desk lay buried under parchment. Maps, reports, scrawled notes. Beside it stood a tall man with broad shoulders and streaks of gray in his dark hair. He wasn’t young. He looked like someone who’d seen real battles and survived them through equal parts grit and stubbornness.

  Three advisors stood near him, whispering about troop numbers and supply shortages.

  “Commander, sir,” the guard escorting me said, saluting sharply.

  “At ease,” the commander replied without glancing up. His eyes stayed on the glowing map.

  “This person was outside the gates,” the guard continued. “He claims he’s here to help with the incoming monster wave.”

  “Is that right?” the commander murmured, still studying the table.

  I stepped forward. “That’s right. I was told you needed help.”

  “Oh, yeah?” He finally looked up at me. “And who told you that?”

  “Uh… the System?” I said, hoping he was conscious about where we were, like Orsik had been.

  That got his attention.

  The room went quiet. The advisors stiffened. One of them crossed himself. Another muttered something under his breath about “finally.”

  The commander straightened slowly, eyes narrowing as he looked me over from head to toe. Not judging. Evaluating. Measuring the kid the universe had just dropped on his doorstep.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  “The System,” he repeated. His voice softened a little. “But you’re so young.”

  I opened my mouth to respond, but he cut me off. “What’s your name, kid?”

  “Mike, sir.”

  “Mike,” he echoed, like he was imprinting it into his memory. “Alright, kid. Come here. Let me show you what we’re dealing with.”

  He waved me toward the table.

  On the miniature battlefield, about fifty little wooden figures were positioned around the walls, separated into three divisions: left flank, center, right flank.

  “The wave is coming from the east,” the commander said, tapping the glowing red lines. “My men are seasoned, but they’re not strong enough to hold without help.”

  He pointed to the center group. “I’ll lead the main defense here.” Then he gestured to the right. “Lieutenant Harry Chase will take the right flank.”

  The lieutenant gave me a short nod. He was sharp-eyed, lean, and tense like a drawn bowstring.

  Then the commander tapped the left side of the board. “And you, Mike… you’ll take command of the left flank.”

  I blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

  “You heard me,” he said. “If the System sent you, then you’re the strongest one here.” A few soldiers exchanged surprised looks. “That makes you at least a lieutenant here, whether you want the job or not,” the commander continued.

  Behind me, Lexi scribbled:

  “CONGRATS ON THE PROMOTION!”

  I ignored her and activated Inspect.

  Names and levels flickered in front of my eyes.

  James Hart — Commander — Level 10

  Harry Chase — Lieutenant — Level 9

  Both higher level than me. I let out a small breath of relief, until I inspected the rest of the room.

  Level 5. Level 6. Level 7. Every soldier around the table was lower level than me.

  The relief vanished. I wasn’t just joining the battle. I was responsible for a third of the soldiers here. Lives. People with families, routines, inside jokes… who now expected me to help keep them breathing.

  “Commander,” I said quietly, “I don’t know if I’m the right guy to lead. I’ve been more of a solo guy lately.”

  “Kid,” he said, never looking away from me, “you don’t get a say in the matter. If you want to help, this is where we need you.”

  “I understand, but—”

  “Mike.”

  He put a firm hand on my shoulder. The grip wasn’t crushing. It was steady. Grounding. When he met my eyes, everything else in the room faded.

  “We need you. If you’re not there to lead those men, they will die.”

  I swallowed and looked down. My voice felt small. “I’ll do my best, Commander.”

  “That’s all we are asking of you, kid.” His tone softened. “Now go. Get ready. We don’t have much time before the first wave.”

  The guards escorted me back down the spiral staircase and out of the tower. Soldiers streamed toward the battlements, torches flickering in their hands, armor clanking with every hurried step.

  The village felt different now. Heavier. More real.

  When we reached the battlefield, I broke off and headed toward the left flank, the one I had been assigned to lead.

  Dozens of soldiers were already there, forming rough lines. Their eyes drifted to me as I approached: expectation, doubt, fear, and somehow, hope. They were waiting for me to say something. Anything.

  I cleared my throat. “Uh… hi. My name is Mike.”

  A few men blinked. Someone coughed. It felt like one of those awkward first-day-of-school icebreakers where everyone has to stand up and share a fun fact.

  “I, uh… I swear I’ll do everything I can to keep every one of you alive.”

  There was a short silence, then a few cheers. Quiet at first, then louder. Not many, but more than I expected.

  I glanced at the timer.

  00:02:34.

  My palms grew sweaty around my bat. “Alright, Mike,” I muttered under my breath. “You’ve got this.”

  Out in the distance, the tall grass rustled in a way that had nothing to do with the wind, like something hungry was crawling just beneath the surface.

  The first wave was almost here.