POV: Underground Resistance Cell – Sector E7, Exile Zone
The world above was steel.
Steel and silence. Tracks pressed into the earth like tattoos from gods. The sun hadn't truly risen in days—not because of clouds, but because the sky itself seemed afraid to shine over the Blackwood Empire.
But beneath that world…
…resistance was breathing.
Sector E7 was deep within the Exile Zone—one of the last non-Blackwood territories still unregistered in the Empire's vast surveillance web. It was cold. Cramped. Lit by flickering yellow lights and powered by salvaged generators.
A dozen rebels were seated around a war table—a makeshift one formed from old aircraft wings, blueprints, and rusted steel.
Elira Morn, commander of the resistance cell, spoke first. Her voice was low, ragged from weeks without proper sleep.
> "The 40 million-tank march was a message. Not just to us—to the world. To his own people. It said, 'Don't blink.' It said, 'This is mine.'"
Tayo Jinn, tech specialist and ex-Boreal defense engineer, was typing furiously into a modified interface.
> "I've intercepted fragments of Amara's supply routes… and they're not just targeting weapons. They're seizing food. Medicine. Tech parts. This isn't war. This is a chokehold. Slow. Strategic."
Elira nodded.
> "They want obedience through scarcity. Make them dependent. Make them bend."
Another rebel, Kira Vohl, slammed a report down.
> "The nobles he elevated yesterday? They've started seizing property from old families—non-Blackwoods. No trials. No orders. Just declarations. If your blood isn't Blackwood, your rights don't exist."
Everyone turned silent.
Then came a new voice—shaky, young. A new recruit barely 19, known only as Red.
> "But… what do we do? If we can't match their numbers… or their tanks…"
Elira looked up. Eyes fierce.
> "We become what he can't control. Unpredictable. Quiet. Dangerous. He rules the surface—we take the underworld. We hit what matters. Their belief. Their hope. Let the people see that Blackwood power bleeds."
Tayo leaned in.
> "We're working on a jammer. If we can scramble communications for even ten minutes during one of their regional parades—we expose flaws. We show cracks."
Kira added sharply.
> "And we have a target. The Amara Convoy. It leaves Sector B19 in two nights. They're moving critical command chips for tracking civilians. If we intercept it, we can blind a section of their empire."
Silence.
Then Elira stood.
> "No more running. We don't want war—we want a chance. This mission? It won't change everything. But it might light the match."
And underground, where the steel can't see…
The spark began to burn.
—