The deal with General Maren weighed heavily on Isaac. He had fought so hard to escape the cycle of power and destruction, but now he found himself once again on the edge of becoming a tool for war. The alliance with the military council was necessary for survival, but the price was steep.
Isaac spent hours going over maps and data with Nyla, identifying the rogue factions that had seized control of critical regions. They were brutal, opportunistic groups that ruled through fear and violence, and the council wanted them eliminated.
"I didn't sign up for this," Isaac muttered as he scanned a list of the targets they were expected to neutralize. "I wanted to rebuild, not become an executioner."
Nyla was silent for a moment before responding, her voice calm but firm. "We have no choice, Isaac. If we don't deal with these factions, they'll wipe us out before we even have a chance to rebuild. They don't care about progress or survival—they just want power."
Isaac knew she was right, but the moral weight of the situation gnawed at him. He wasn't a soldier, but now he was responsible for sending people into battle—people who might not return. Still, there was no other option. If they failed, the world's collapse would be complete.
With a deep breath, Isaac made his decision. "We move forward."