Taren Lantrun, High General of Eden's military, sat alone in the war room, the quiet hum of holographic displays filling the space. A map of the Dothraki Sea stretched before him, with thousands of small red markers crawling across the landscape like a spreading infection. The intelligence reports confirmed his worst fears: the enemy was gathering. They were preparing to strike. The creatures he saw in the reconnaissance footage haunted him—half-human, half-horse monstrosities, their torsos fused into the bodies of warhorses, muscles bulging unnaturally, their faces twisted in expressions of madness and rage.
These were no ordinary raiders. Whatever gods the Dothraki worshipped had turned them into abominations, creatures born of nightmare and magic, fueled by a deep hatred for Eden. The Dothraki weren't coming to plunder—they were coming to destroy everything in their path. The only thing standing between them and the heart of Eden was Project Shield—a buffer zone two miles deep, filled with bunkers, walls, watchtowers, and kill zones.
Taren clenched his jaw, his hands folded behind his back as he studied the progress of the construction. The holographic map displayed the plans in intricate detail. The abandoned city of Hesh, once a small Lhazareen trading hub, was being transformed into Jeddah—a sprawling fortress city, ten times the size of its predecessor. It would become the linchpin of the buffer zone, housing 1.5 million troops.
The city would be more than a military base—it would be a lifeline, the hub that kept the frontlines supplied with everything from food and water to ammunition and medical aid. If the walls of Jeddah fell, the buffer zone would collapse, and the Dothraki hordes would pour into Eden's holdings like a flood.
Taren exhaled slowly. Construction had been on schedule—until the Dome Baby incident. Now, with supply lines disrupted and political chaos spreading through Eden's government, everything was falling apart. The materials needed to build the fortifications weren't arriving on time, and the few shipments that made it through were woefully inadequate. If the delays continued, the defenses would remain unfinished, and Eden would be left exposed.
Taren tapped a button on the console, opening a secure line to Garth, Eden's Minister of Commerce. He hated asking for help, but there was no other option. If the project failed, the Dothraki would burn everything in their path—and Taren had no intention of letting that happen.
The comm line buzzed for a moment before Garth's holographic image materialized. The Minister of Commerce was seated at his desk, his expression calm and composed. Unlike most of Eden's elites, Garth was unaltered, his simple clothing and plain demeanor setting him apart from the wealthy aristocrats who filled the city's upper echelons.
"Taren," Garth said, leaning back in his chair. "What do you need?"
Taren wasted no time. "I need more funding. Project Shield is falling behind schedule, and if we don't finish the buffer zone in time, Eden's holdings will be overrun."
Garth raised an eyebrow. "I thought the project was ahead of schedule."
"It was," Taren admitted, his frustration evident. "But the Dome Baby incident disrupted the supply lines. We're running out of building materials, and the construction teams are working with what little they have. If we don't get more funding—and fast—we'll miss the deadline."
Garth's expression remained neutral, but Taren could see the wheels turning in his mind. The Minister of Commerce was a careful man, always weighing risks and benefits.
"How much are you asking for?" Garth asked after a moment of silence.
Taren sighed, knowing the answer would not be well received. "A lot. We need to expedite the expansion of Jeddah, build out the infrastructure, and reinforce the frontlines. The buffer zone needs to be fully operational within the next six months—or we're finished."
Garth leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. "You know Eden's economy is under strain, right? The Dome Baby incident sparked political infighting, and we've had to divert resources to deal with the fallout. Approving more funds for Project Shield will mean cutting back in other areas."
"Cut them," Taren said flatly. "Delay infrastructure projects in the heartlands. Raise taxes if you have to. Sell bonds. Do whatever it takes, Garth, but get me the funds."
The two men locked eyes through the holographic display. Taren could tell Garth didn't like being pressured, but this wasn't a negotiation—it was a matter of survival.
"Let me be clear," Taren continued, his voice hard. "If the buffer zone isn't completed in time, the Dothraki won't just raid our frontier. They'll tear through everything. Jeddah is the only thing standing between them and Londonium. If they break through, Eden falls."
Garth exhaled slowly, rubbing his chin in thought. "And how long will we need to maintain this force?"
"Until the ritual is complete," Taren replied. "That won't happen for a few decades, so the buffer zone needs to hold until then."
The ritual was Eden's ultimate solution—a grand magical ceremony designed to neutralize the Dothraki threat for good. But rituals of such magnitude took time, and until it was ready, Eden had no choice but to rely on walls and soldiers.
Garth drummed his fingers on the desk, weighing the options. "I'll approve the funds," he said finally. "But understand this, Taren—this is the last bailout. If anything goes wrong, there won't be any more emergency allocations."
Taren nodded sharply. "That's all I needed to hear."
As the hologram flickered off, Taren leaned back in his chair, exhaling a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. The fight to secure the funding was over, but the real battle was just beginning.
He turned back to the map of the Dothraki Sea, his eyes narrowing. The enemy was out there, gathering strength, waiting for the moment to strike. Project Shield would buy them time, but Taren knew better than to trust in defenses alone.
The monstrosities were coming, and Eden's soldiers would need every advantage they could muster to survive the onslaught. Jeddah had to rise—there could be no failure, no delays, no excuses.
If they failed, Eden would fall. And Taren Lantrun would not let that happen—not on his watch.