“If you can, if you’re ready, if you’re able—Come fight with us. Save Earth with us. For the human race. For the Icarean race. For all the people we lost. And for all the people who still need us. Fight with us! Yellowstone Caldera. Two days. Do you hear me, Nox? We. Will. Win.”
Goosebumps pricked Nox’s skin. Unsure anymore if he reacted out of fear or lust, he stared at his arm. He expected the next two days to elicit many unusual reactions from him.
Korac clicked his tongue. “I don’t know, sire. The sprite almost has me convinced she can take you.”
Nox glared at his General. “Sprite? I didn’t realize you assigned pet names to the enemy.”
With an elegant shrug, he explained, “Only the ones worth fighting.”
“Quite.” Nox nodded. He gave a dismissive wave to the Icarean comms console. “Between her and her brother, they’ll rally plenty of troops for the Villam.” He acknowledged with raised eyebrows. “I’m actually curious to see the turnout. How many strong are we?”
Korac retrieved the layout of the battlefield on the console. In three-dimensional imagery, he pointed to their staging. “One hundred legions of fifty thousand. I don’t believe Earth will provide enough resistance to quantify more troops than this.”
“Double it.”
“Your majesty, with all due respect, the terrain won’t support that many soldiers. Especially with the war machines.”
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“Then deploy them as air legions like Valkyrie.”
Korac blew the air from his cheeks on a whistle. “Gonna be some dark skies in two days.”
“You’re not happy with the Tantamount,” Nox proclaimed matter-of-factly. He narrowed his gaze at Korac as the Icarus looked away.
He rapped his knuckles on the desk before answering, “I question the merits of such a radical threat.”
“You’ll understand when it’s over.” Nox turned his back on him, unwilling to let him see a trace. He finished writing earlier that day. The leather-bound notebook lay heavy on the desk. “But I swear to you, it is in Cinder’s best interest that we take this route.”
“I trust my King knows best for our people.”
Nox rewarded his loyalty with a nod. “You’ve executed my commands even when you harbored doubts. Your loyalty is commendable, as always, General.” He faced the other Icarus as he asked, “On that note, how is our Seamswalker?”
Korac gave nothing away as he answered, “Stagnant at Iona-29.”
“Any news of the facility?”
“As of an hour ago, several migrating units arrived there, including the train. More are on the way. Shall we make trouble for them, sire?”
Nox shook his head and peered at the three-dimensional image. “No. The Villam requires bodies. We maintain the course.”
The General cleared his throat before asking, “Your majesty, did you gather anything from General Callahan’s presence at the stronghold? Anything I might utilize for our stratagem?”
For a moment, Nox could only think about Rayne driving the dagger under ribs and screaming in pain. Her lonely tears. Entirely too intoxicating and fascinating all at once. He drifted back to the present conversation in the observatory. “A few details of benefit to me and of no concern to you.”
“Yes, sire.”
The black-haired Icarus stared at the notebook. Korac caught his gaze and followed. She suffered. Nox understood. But she would never hear him out. And he accepted that. He licked his lips before saying, “General, I need you to perform an imperative task for me. One I can trust only to you.” For the first time in millions of years, Nox prayed to Elden for this to work.