Legacy of Blackwood

As the great oak doors of the Blackwood Union Convocation Hall shut behind the governors, silence filled the chamber.

Only three remained:

Chris Blackwood, the God of the Empire

Christiana Blackwood, the Dictator

Amara Kane, the new Regent Executor

Chris rose from his seat and walked slowly to the war map on the wall. He studied it for a moment—then spoke without turning.

> "You both stood on opposite ends of a war. Now, you'll stand side by side for what's coming."

Amara's voice broke the silence.

> "With all due respect, my Lord… the Dictator is strong, but she's not a partner. She's an institution."

Christiana scoffed but said nothing. Her pride wouldn't let her look weak—not even in front of her father.

Chris turned.

> "Good. You both still carry fire. That's why I chose you. But fire, uncontrolled, burns empires. So listen closely."

He walked toward the round table and dropped a sealed folder between them.

> "This… is Protocol Titanfall. A contingency plan that only I knew about—until now. One of you will lead its execution. The other will oversee its security."

Christiana finally stepped forward.

> "Why now? What is it?"

Chris's voice was sharp.

> "Because there's a storm coming from the Outer Realms. You think the civil tension here was bad? You haven't seen what the exiled nations are building."

He pointed to the red X's on the war map—regions still outside full Blackwood control.

> "They've united under a name... The Null Order. I created this empire with blood. I won't lose it to cowards hiding in the shadows."

Amara's eyes lit up.

> "Then assign me. Let me burn their lands."

Chris shook his head.

> "No. Christiana will lead this mission. You, Amara, will stay and run the capital—under her command."

That hit hard. Amara tensed.

Christiana blinked once, then turned to her father.

> "Do you trust her to hold my city while I go to war?"

Chris's answer was immediate.

> "I don't trust anyone. That's why I'll be watching both of you."

He took a step back and stared at them both.

> "Leave now. Prepare. Titanfall begins in 14 days."

As they bowed and turned to leave, he added:

> "Christiana."

She paused.

> "Yes, Father?"

> "Fail… and I'll replace you. Title or not."

She said nothing. But her clenched fist promised war in more ways than one.

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To Be Continued…