The violet sky of the Frost Tide Empire had long ago ceased to be a novelty for the soldiers of the vanguard. For them, the indigo hue was the color of the end of the world.
Within the 50 times time dilation field, the soldiers of the Million Man Army had lived through decades of shared history in what the outside world perceived as mere months. Young recruits who had joined during the first migration were now grizzled veterans in their fifties, their bodies kept at the peak of physical perfection by the divine hydro regeneration of the Sea God's domain.
Captain Kaelen of the Black Sun stood on the leading edge of a floating basalt platform, his hand resting on the hilt of a claymore forged from Abyssal Steel and tempered in the heart of the Red Dragon Tower's volcanic vents.
