The flames roared higher, turning the night sky above Refuge into a hellish canvas of orange and black. Smoke choked the air, stinging eyes and burning lungs, but the defenders fought on. Every clash of steel, every shouted order, every desperate cry echoed through the burning settlement like the death knell of a doomed city.

Grizzley stood atop the crumbling inner barricade, his machete slick with blood. His arms ached, his breath came in ragged gasps, but he refused to let the exhaustion take him. Below him, Magnus’s forces swarmed like ants, their chants of “Order from chaos!” rising in unison as they tore through the last defenses.

Grizzley wiped the sweat from his brow and glanced over his shoulder. The remaining defenders were gathered in a ragged line, their weapons clutched tightly as they prepared for the final push. Sam was among them, his face grim as he tightened the straps on Lila’s armor.

“You stay behind me,” Sam told her, his voice firm but not unkind. “No heroics, got it?”

Lila nodded, her grip on the spear steady despite the tremor in her hands. “I’ll fight, Dad.”

Sam placed a hand on her shoulder. “I know you will. Just don’t take risks you don’t have to.”

Grizzley watched them for a moment before turning back to the battlefield. He didn’t have time for sentiment. Not now.

On the western wall, Mara loosed another arrow, her fingers raw from the repeated draw of the string. Below her, Ezra fought like a man possessed, his wrench swinging with brutal efficiency. Each strike sent another raider crumpling to the ground, but the waves kept coming.

“They’re breaking through!” Mara shouted, her voice hoarse.

Ezra didn’t reply. He was too focused on the next attacker, a zealot armed with a spiked club. The man swung wildly, and Ezra ducked, driving his wrench into the zealot’s ribs with a sickening crunch.

“We can’t hold them!” Mara shouted again, desperation creeping into her tone.

Ezra looked up, his breath ragged. “Then we fall back!”

Mara hesitated, her eyes darting to the flames creeping closer to the wall. She nodded sharply, grabbing a handful of arrows and slinging her bow over her shoulder.

“Fall back to the square!” she called to the remaining defenders. “Now!”

Near the east gate, Magnus strode through the carnage, his iron mask gleaming in the firelight. His lieutenants flanked him—Jace to his right, his blade dripping with fresh blood, and Sister Amara to his left, her staff glowing faintly with the heat of the burning settlement.

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“They’re scattering,” Jace said with a sharp grin. “This’ll be over soon.”

Magnus tilted his head slightly, his gaze fixed on the remnants of the inner barricade. “Chaos is resilient. It clings to life like a parasite. But we will cut it out.”

Amara raised her staff, her voice carrying through the battlefield. “The Watcher sees all! None shall escape!”

The Sanctified surged forward, their chants echoing like thunder.

Grizzley braced himself as the Sanctified reached the barricade, their makeshift weapons clashing against the defenders’ last stand. He parried a blow from a zealot armed with a jagged spear, countering with a brutal slash of his machete. The zealot fell, but another took their place almost immediately.

Sam and Lila fought nearby, their movements synchronized. Lila’s spear darted forward, catching a raider in the side, while Sam finished them off with a swift strike to the neck.

“Dad, behind you!” Lila shouted.

Sam turned just in time to block an attack from a raider wielding a rusted ax. The force of the blow nearly knocked him off balance, but he recovered quickly, driving his blade into the raider’s chest.

Grizzley glanced over at them, a flicker of relief crossing his face. “Hold the line!” he shouted. “We don’t give an inch!”

At the square, Mara and Ezra rallied the survivors, their voices cutting through the chaos.

“Form a perimeter!” Mara ordered, her bow drawn. “We hold this ground!”

Ezra knelt beside a wounded defender, his hands slick with blood as he tried to staunch the flow. “We need more time!” he shouted.

“We don’t have it!” Mara snapped, loosing an arrow into the advancing horde.

The square was chaos. Sanctified zealots poured in from all sides, their chants mingling with the screams of the dying. Mara fired until her quiver was empty, then grabbed a fallen spear, her movements fluid and precise.

Ezra fought beside her, his wrench a blur as he took down one attacker after another. But even he couldn’t deny the truth—they were losing.

Magnus reached the barricade, his lieutenants flanking him as he surveyed the battlefield. His gaze locked on Grizzley, who stood at the center of the line, bloodied but unbroken.

Magnus tilted his head, the firelight reflecting off his iron mask. “There he is,” he murmured. “The thorn in my side.”

Jace grinned. “Shall I fetch him for you?”

Magnus raised a hand. “No. Let him come to me. He’ll break soon enough.”

Grizzley drove his machete into another zealot, his muscles screaming in protest. He could feel the line breaking, the defenders falling one by one.

“Sam!” he shouted. “Get them to the fallback point!”

“What about you?” Sam called back.

“I’ll buy you time!”

Sam hesitated, then nodded. He grabbed Lila’s arm, pulling her toward the square.

“But—” Lila started, her eyes darting to Grizzley.

“Now!” Grizzley barked.

Sam and Lila retreated, joining Mara and Ezra in the square as the last of the defenders fell back. Grizzley stood alone at the barricade, his machete raised.

Magnus watched him, his voice carrying over the battlefield. “You fight well, Carson. But this is the end.”

Grizzley didn’t flinch. “Come and get me.”

The Sanctified swarmed the barricade, their weapons clashing against Grizzley’s in a blur of steel and blood. He fought like a man possessed, each strike filled with raw fury. But even he couldn’t hold them back forever.

As the flames closed in and the barricade crumbled, Grizzley fell back to the square, joining the last of the survivors.

“Time to go,” Sam said, his voice strained.

Grizzley nodded, his chest heaving. “Move out. Now.”

The group fled into the night, the burning ruins of Refuge silhouetted against the horizon. Behind them, Magnus stood among the flames, his iron mask gleaming as he watched them disappear.

“Run,” Magnus murmured. “You can’t escape order.”