The flickering lamplight cast shifting shadows across the table as Scarlet flipped through the pages in front of her, her eyes narrowing. The reports were dense with updates; figures, notes, status updates, but it was all text. No maps. No diagrams. Just walls of annotations.
“What’s the state of the territories?” she asked, her voice steady but edged with concern. Her mind added silently, This is nothing but annotations. This would have been better designed with diagrams.... Why didn't I make diagrams?
Across from her, Ciel didn’t look up from the thick stack of folders they were sifting through. “The plans you authorized last year have been in full swing since early this year. So, despite the global upheaval, we’re in a unique but stable position.”
To Scarlet’s right, Porter muttered under his breath, “That Colonel, always one step ahead of the game.”
Karmela gave him a gentle elbow to the ribs and whispered, “Scarlet helped.”
Scarlet exhaled sharply, but it was more resignation than protest. “Doesn’t matter,” she said aloud, her fingers tightening slightly on the paper. “I didn’t even know where to start, or what to implement. We’d be in a far weaker position without her foresight.”
There was a beat of silence, broken only by the faint rustle of pages and distant thunder. Outside the window, the world continued to reel, but inside this room, the foundation laid a year ago was holding firm.
There was a beat of silence, broken only by the faint rustle of pages and the distant rumble of thunder. Outside the window, lightning stitched the sky with light. It had been like this for weeks now—torrential rains to the east, fires sweeping the western drylands, and tremors unsettling once-quiet coasts. The world had shifted, tilted into a new and uncertain rhythm.
And yet, here… her territory stood.
Scarlet leaned back in her chair, letting the paper fall against the table. Her eyes drifted across the room, not really seeing it. Instead, her mind replayed the memory of long nights spent reviewing proposals and half-scrawled strategies. She’d felt lost, out of her depth. When the Colonel had offered her the framework; layered defenses, supply redundancy, protected trade corridors, it had felt overwhelming. Scarlet had simply nodded and signed, trusting someone else’s vision because she had none of her own at the time.
But now…
Ciel slid a sheet toward her without a word. Scarlet glanced down.
Aerial delivery routes, still operational, thanks to staggered elevation platforms and glide-wing pilots. The underground cistern network, uncontaminated and feeding into purified water caches. Emergency housing hubs, three new ones active, with rotating staffing schedules and enchanted climate buffers.
All of it was real. Functional. People were safe.
Her throat tightened unexpectedly.
She had thought herself a placeholder. A clever squirrel trying to play leader until the real ones could return. But the results in front of her argued otherwise.
Maybe I didn’t know what I was doing, she admitted silently, but I listened. I learned. I trusted the right people. And maybe… that counts for something. The realization hit her, ‘This is what the other me wanted to see… To open herself to trust instead of trying to handle everything herself. Wisdom knew when to reach for help, understood the importance and need.’
She looked back up. “Have the outposts in the northern ridge reported in?”
Porter nodded. “Steady check-ins. Supply lines still running. We lost a few outer fences to the wind, but no breaches.”
Karmela added, “They’ve already begun repairs. Locals are pitching in, even without being asked.”
That made Scarlet pause. Community effort: unprovoked. Not out of obligation, but out of belief.
She folded her hands over the table, feeling the faint hum of hope inside her chest. Maybe for the first time in a long while, it didn’t feel so out of place.