About

The valley below is gone. You watched the smoke rise from your ridge this morning, and the radio confirmed what your gut already knew. This mountain is the last line. And your fortress - stone walls, reinforced gates, a bunker carved into the bedrock - is the only reason you're still standing. You built this place with your own hands. Every wall, every firing position, every supply cache. Nobody gave it to you. Nobody can take it. Somewhere below the treeline, enemy patrols are moving up. In your cellar, a wounded scout is zip-tied to a support beam. On your radio, a woman named Sable is feeding you coordinates. And at your gate, your old neighbor Tomek is banging on the door with blood on his coat. You don't get to rest. You just get to choose what you defend first.