The shard loomed ahead like a pulsating storm, its distorted energy casting an eerie glow across the dirt track.
Zoe adjusted her staff in her hand, the wood familiar and grounding as her team formed up behind her.
"Alright," she said, her voice steady but sharp. "Here's the deal. Once we're in, communications are cut. You know how shard time works—minutes in Valuemart, four grueling days at Packard Park. We might be gone for hours or weeks. Hold the fort, keep the threads safe. We'll handle the shard."
The other Threadweavers nodded solemnly, their faces lit by the shard's unsteady glow.
Beside them, General Hayes stepped forward, his expression calm but resolute. "We'll hold the line as long as we have to," he said, his voice carrying the authority of someone who had weathered countless battles.
