The sky had begun to darken by the time Lumberling returned to the Duskspire base.
He walked the familiar stone halls slowly, the murmur of soldiers training in the courtyard echoing in the distance. Yet his steps felt ungrounded, like the weight of the road still clung to his boots.
His thoughts churned.
'Are there others like me? Earthlings? How many? When did they come? How… did they get here?'
He turned a corner without looking, barely nodding to the guards stationed near the inner chambers.
'If one came before, then more might have.'
The image of the printing press flashed again in his mind, mechanical, clean, precise. Out of place. Out of time.
His jaw tightened.
'And if they came from Earth like me… do they have powers too? Cheats? Skills? Knowledge that could shift the tides?'
He clenched a fist, then forced it open again.
'What if they're in this Empire? What if they're on the other side of this war?'
