A world worth fighting for
Bell towers over a lake. Olive terraces. Towns that have stood for five hundred years, in a world full of them. Then the Empire of Zod decided it wanted all of it.
Zod does not open with armies. It opens with drones: cheap, loud, one-way, launched by the hundred to break a people's will before a single soldier crosses a border. The sirens became routine. The smoke on the ridge became routine. That was the plan.
