The sky above Dralven was a dull gray, as if mirroring the mood of its people. The streets, usually bustling with daily activities, were now eerily silent, save for the occasional hurried footsteps or hushed whispers from the citizens hiding behind their doors.
They watched anxiously from the cracks in their wooden windows or through half-open doors, observing the foreign soldiers in neat uniforms moving quickly through the streets. No one knew for sure who they were or what their purpose was. What was certain was that they had arrived suddenly, bringing weapons and warships that looked like monsters from another world.
The soldiers did not speak to the townspeople. They appeared busy, setting up strange devices around the city, unloading large crates from the docks, and keeping a watchful eye on the mines. Any locals who tried to inquire were met either with cold stares or complete silence. Confusion reigned.
"What do they want?" whispered an old man to his wife. "They're not like Delos' forces. This... this is something else."
"Quiet," his wife whispered back, her eyes never leaving the gap in the window. "They might hear us."
Amid the growing fear, the sound of marching footsteps echoed from the town square. Those still inside hesitated before stepping out, only to see Baron Valric walking slowly down the road, flanked by two foreign soldiers. His expression was tense, his eyes darting nervously, but he tried to maintain his upright posture.
As Valric reached the square, more townspeople began to gather, though they kept their distance. Their eyes were fixed on the foreign soldiers surrounding the Baron, their weapons slung, yet still menacing. No one spoke, but the tension in the air was palpable.
Baron Valric sighed deeply before speaking. He knew he had no choice but to follow the orders of these newcomers, but he also understood his people needed an explanation—something to ease their minds, even if just a little.
"People of Dralven," he said loudly, though his voice betrayed a trembling hesitation. "Today, our land has... changed ownership."
A whisper spread quickly through the crowd. Their faces were filled with disbelief and fear. Some looked angry, but most were just confused.
"I know this is hard to accept," Valric continued, his voice softer now. "But our new leaders did not come to destroy us. They came to bring change. They have assured me that our lives will go on—perhaps even better than before."
An old woman in the crowd interrupted, her voice shaking. "How can we believe that? They brought weapons and large ships! They don't look like saviors, Baron. They look like invaders!"
Valric lowered his head, shame and helplessness clear on his face. "I know," he murmured softly before raising his eyes again, gazing at the people with a pleading look. "But I ask you to trust my judgment. If we work together, we may survive… even thrive."
Before Valric could continue, a young man in foreign attire stepped forward. His face was familiar to some of the locals who had seen him around the mines. He was one of Cero's subordinates, now proficient in the basics of the local language.
"Starting today," he said firmly, yet not threateningly, "this territory is under the direct oversight of Director Arcana Cero. We have not come to destroy your way of life. On the contrary, we have come to make it better."
A hush fell over the crowd. The people were unsure whether to feel relieved or more frightened. Some began to whisper once again, but the young soldier continued.
"You will see changes in the way the mines are operated. New technologies will be used, and some of you will be asked to work alongside us. We will pay you fairly. However, there are rules to follow. Any form of resistance will not be tolerated."
The stern tone at the end of his sentence silenced any further whispers. The townspeople exchanged glances, trying to comprehend what was happening.
Baron Valric could only stand still, feeling like a shadow of the man he once was. He knew his true power had ended. In the eyes of his people, he was now just a puppet of a far greater force.
Time passed quickly in Dralven. In the week since the foreign forces under Cero's leadership had taken control of the city, the once quiet and simple place had undergone drastic changes. The transformation occurred at an almost unbelievable speed, as if the citizens had woken up in a new world full of bustling activity.
The small town was now filled with the sounds of heavy machinery and construction activities never before seen by the locals. Technicians and engineers from Cero's main base arrived, bringing modern technology that was not only foreign but also astonishing to the townspeople. Sophisticated machines that reshaped the earth, constructed buildings, and set up supply lines left the locals awestruck, but also somewhat fearful.
At the edge of town, piles of wood, bricks, and modern building materials lay scattered. A crew of workers was busy constructing a watchtower at an incredible pace, while others dug into the ground to lay underground pipes.
New roads were being built, connecting the small town to the southern coastline. This area, once overgrown with wild shrubs and small forests, had now been cleared and leveled. The technicians from Cero had transformed it into a strategic location for a large military base. Temporary metal buildings stood along the site, flanked by a runway still under construction.
Although Cero's forces had brought workers and manpower from another world to carry out these large-scale projects, the local people were not completely ignored. Some had been recruited as laborers, receiving basic training in operating the new equipment. The wages they earned, though modest, were far better than what they had ever received from the old mining operations.
Those who had once lived by farming or working in the mines now had new opportunities. Some were employed as construction workers, while others were given responsibilities like running communal kitchens or distributing food to the laborers.
"We've never seen this town so crowded," murmured an elderly woman to her neighbor as she watched the main road, now filled with people. "It used to be just us and the mines. Now, there are these strangers with their technology."
"At least we have more work now," her neighbor replied. "And they pay well enough for us to buy decent food."
Yet, not all of the locals were pleased. Some still felt that this was an invasion—that their land had been taken, and their town was no longer theirs.
At the new military base near the coast, a major project was underway. Cero's first air force fleet was being constructed on the runway, which was nearing completion. Modern aircraft, with designs unlike anything seen in this world, began arriving from Cero's origin through its system.
Engineers and technicians worked tirelessly, testing the engines and armaments, ensuring each unit was ready for the upcoming operations. The long runway stretching toward the sea provided strategic access for aircraft launches, while large hangars were being built to house the planes and their equipment.
Amid all this activity, Cero stood on an observation platform, gazing at the new base that had become the heart of his power. He listened to reports from his subordinates about the progress of construction and strategic planning.
"The runway will be finished in three days, Director," Ragner reported, standing beside him. "Three fighter jets have arrived, and air defense systems are being installed around the base."
Cero nodded without saying a word. His gaze remained fixed on the view before him as he pondered his next moves.
"How many locals are involved in the project?" he finally asked, his tone calm but firm.
"About twenty percent of the workforce," Ragner replied. "Most are engaged in simple tasks. The rest are technicians and workers from our world."
"Good," Cero said briefly. "Make sure they feel involved. But never let them know more than they should."
In the city of Dralven, these changes brought mixed reactions. Children who once played in the dirt roads now stood by the sidelines, watching the heavy machinery at work. Farmers who were used to hoes now carried simple tools to assist with the construction.
However, there was also a sense of awkwardness among them. Although they accepted the change with resignation, many were still confused about their role in this new, chaotic world. Their small, once-familiar town now felt alien, even to those who had lived there their entire lives.
"Is this our future now?" asked an old man to his wife in their small home. "Are we becoming part of something we don't understand?"
"At least we're not starving," his wife answered softly. "Maybe this is better than what we had before." Her words carried both resignation and a glimmer of hope, a sentiment that seemed to echo throughout Dralven—a town caught in the tide of a new era, unsure whether it would rise with it or be swept away.