June 30th, 1938 – Late Afternoon
The smoke had settled, and the battlefield was quiet now, save for the distant rumble of Valorian tanks moving through the ruined streets. The final stronghold of the Matalebe had fallen. Commander Kagiso lay on the ground, barely conscious, his body broken, blood seeping through the torn fabric of his uniform. He struggled to breathe, each inhale sharp and painful.
All around him, his city—the heart of the Matalebe resistance—was in ruins. The walls that once stood tall had crumbled, and the streets were littered with debris and the bodies of his fallen soldiers. The sound of battle had faded, replaced by the methodical march of Valorian boots advancing toward him.
