-5/07/2988-

Two days have passed since the truck’s breakdown. In truth, little of note has occurred since the incident—just endless stretches of road, the landscape blurring into an indistinct haze as we pressed onward. The days have been consumed by nothing more than the hum of engines and the ceaseless crunch of tires against gravel, a slow crawl through miles of empty, unremarkable terrain.

To stave off the crushing boredom, I’ve buried myself in a few books, trying to keep my mind engaged as the hours drag by.

The only occurrence of any interest was during our brief stop at a small, isolated town along the way. The locals I spoke with seemed gripped by a quiet but palpable unease, their conversations laced with hushed whispers of an impending war. According to the rumors circulating, the Union States was on the brink of launching an invasion into Gix, setting the stage for a conflict that would engulf the region.

Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

Now, I’ve never claimed to be a man well-versed in the world of geopolitics, but from what I understand, there hasn't been a major war between Gix and the Union States for centuries. The occasional skirmish at the border, yes—small, inconsequential spats that hardly merited attention. But a full-blown war? That seemed far-fetched. I chalked it up to nothing more than idle speculation, the kind of rumors that small towns tend to breed in the absence of real news. Still, I couldn’t shake the nagging thought that I might be wrong, and the consequences if I were wrong would be disastrous.

A war between Gix and the Union States would decimate our expedition before we even reached our destination, as the Graylands were right on the border. Going anywhere near the border while a war is going on would not be the greatest idea. I could only hope that these rumors would die as quickly as they had arisen.