The northwestern military base stood like a concrete scar against the desert horizon—isolated, disciplined, loyal to the flag.
At least, that's what it looked like.
Inside the command wing, fluorescent lights hummed softly overhead. Screens displayed troop movements, logistics routes, satellite feeds.
The middle-aged general stood at the head of the operations table, hands clasped behind his back, listening as his subordinate delivered the report.
"General, good news!" the major said eagerly. "Kuta stronghold in Mount Ourea has been wiped out. Total eradication. Our forces recovered a substantial cache of weapons—high-grade rifles, explosives, encrypted devices. The rebels didn't stand a chance."
The room felt smaller.
The general's face did not change.
But something behind his eyes hardened.
The more he listened, the darker his expression became.
Kuta.
It was not a "rebel" nest. It was an investment, a supply artery.
