Morning arrived without ceremony.
No sunrise seemed capable of reaching the prison beneath Alexandria.
Only the sound of iron.
Doors opening.
Chains rattling.
Boots marching across stone.
Captain Aldric Rowan had not slept.
Neither had anyone else.
No one needed to ask why.
Every man imprisoned there had spent the night listening to wives crying beyond the walls.
Children calling for fathers they would never see again.
Friends shouting promises that someone would stop this madness.
As dawn approached...
Even those voices faded.
Hope had finally grown tired.
A guard stopped outside the first cell.
He unfolded a scroll.
His voice never wavered.
"First Company."
Twenty names.
One after another.
Each man answered.
Some proudly.
Some barely able to speak.
One never answered at all.
When the guards opened his cell...
They found he had taken his own life during the night.
The senior guard stared for only a moment.
"Cross him off."
He rolled the parchment shut.
"Nineteen."
Another prisoner would replace him.
The schedule would not change.
Outside...
Alexandria had already gathered.
The execution square had become a sea of faces.
Families.
Veterans.
Merchants.
Laborers.
Nobles.
Curious children lifted onto shoulders.
Some came because they believed justice would be done.
Others came because they refused to believe it would happen at all.
Many simply came because they hoped...
Someone...
Anyone...
Would stop it.
The gallows dominated the square.
Ten wooden frames stood side by side.
Each supported two ropes.
Twenty nooses.
Behind them...
Another twenty prisoners waited.
Behind them...
Another.
And another.
The Empire had built enough holding pens to continue the executions without interruption.
Efficiency.
That was the point.
High above the square...
The King stepped onto the palace balcony.
The crowd quieted immediately.
He spread his arms.
"My loyal citizens."
His practiced smile never faltered.
"Today is a difficult day."
A murmur swept through the square.
"But history has taught us a painful lesson."
He paused.
"Empires are not destroyed from without."
"They are destroyed from within."
He slowly pointed toward the prisoners.
"These men survived."
His voice hardened.
"But survival alone is not loyalty."
"They surrendered."
"They accepted aid from the enemy."
"They abandoned the honor of the Empire."
A cheer rose from one section of the crowd.
Others remained silent.
The King noticed.
He always noticed.
"If defeat carries no consequence..."
He raised one finger.
"...then defeat becomes acceptable."
"And once defeat becomes acceptable..."
"...the Empire dies."
This time more voices answered.
Not all.
But enough.
Standing several steps behind him...
The Queen watched the crowd instead.
Not the prisoners.
Not the King.
The crowd.
She watched anger spreading through it.
Watched arguments begin between neighbors.
Watched husbands pull wives away before they shouted too loudly.
Watched soldiers tighten their grip upon their spears.
A slow smile touched her lips.
One of the remaining Generals noticed.
"Your Majesty?"
She never looked away.
"They're emotional today."
The General frowned.
"Would you prefer we postpone the executions?"
"No."
Her answer came gently.
Almost kindly.
"If we stop now..."
She watched another argument erupt near the front of the square.
"...they'll believe emotion changes policy."
The General bowed.
"As you command."
She returned her attention to the crowd.
The smile never left.
The first prisoners climbed the steps.
No speeches.
No final declarations.
The Empire had learned.
Yesterday...
Some had proclaimed their innocence.
Others had begged.
One man had cursed the King.
Another had proclaimed his love for the Empire until the trapdoor opened beneath him.
None of it mattered.
Today...
Most simply climbed the platform.
The first trapdoors fell.
Twenty ropes snapped tight.
The square became strangely quiet.
No cheers.
Only the creaking of timber.
The soft sway of bodies.
Some died quickly.
Others struggled.
Children buried their faces against their mothers.
One veteran quietly removed his hat.
Deep beneath the palace...
Aldric heard it.
Not the speech.
Not the crowd.
The sound carried through the old stone foundations.
Twenty heavy impacts.
Then...
Silence.
He closed his eyes.
Someone in the next cell whispered,
"...Marcus."
Another answered,
"He made it home."
No one spoke again.
The executions continued.
Every hour...
Another twenty.
The prison corridors emptied one section at a time.
The conversations changed.
Yesterday men had argued.
Today...
They simply waited for their names.
Outside...
The mood shifted.
A woman broke through the guard line.
"My husband is innocent!"
She reached the gallows before soldiers dragged her away.
Her screams echoed across the square.
"They're lying!"
"My husband never betrayed anyone!"
"Look at him!"
"LOOK AT HIM!"
Several voices answered.
"She's right!"
"They fought for us!"
"They came home!"
"They're heroes!"
Imperial Guards lowered their shields.
The crowd surged.
Not enough.
Not yet.
But enough to make commanders nervous.
By midday...
The executions had claimed nearly a hundred lives.
The protests had doubled.
Officers requested additional soldiers.
The request was approved immediately.
Barracks emptied.
Patrols vanished from other districts.
Alexandria's military began concentrating around one place.
The execution square.
Another General approached the balcony.
He bowed respectfully.
"Your Majesty..."
"The city grows restless."
The King folded his hands behind his back.
"Then they should remember why we're here."
The General hesitated.
"Perhaps..."
"...we suspend today's executions until tempers cool."
Before the King could answer...
The Queen spoke.
"No."
Both men turned toward her.
She stepped beside the King.
"If we pause..."
"...they'll think resistance accomplishes something."
Silence lingered.
The King slowly nodded.
"Continue."
The General bowed once more.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
As he walked away...
The Queen looked back toward the square.
Toward the shouting.
Toward the fear.
Toward the grief.
Something about the scene seemed to brighten her expression.
Almost...
As though she found it beautiful.
Below...
The gallows claimed another twenty.
Then another.
The prison beneath the city grew quieter with every passing hour.
Not because hope had returned.
Because fewer voices remained.
Aldric sat with his back against the cold stone wall.
He no longer counted the trapdoors.
He had tried.
Somewhere after the seventh group...
He lost track.
Names disappeared.
Friends disappeared.
Entire companies disappeared.
One rope at a time.
The young officer across from him had spent the morning insisting this would all be corrected.
By afternoon...
He simply stared at the floor.
"I keep thinking..."
he whispered.
"...someone important will stop this."
Aldric looked toward the narrow slit of daylight high above the corridor.
"No."
The officer slowly raised his head.
"They already decided no one will."
Silence settled between them.
Heavy.
Permanent.
Then footsteps echoed once more.
The guards stopped outside Aldric's cell.
The senior guard did not meet his eyes.
He simply unfolded another scroll.
"Captain Aldric Rowan."
A pause.
"Prepare yourself."
He rolled the parchment closed.
"You're first tomorrow morning."
The footsteps faded into the darkness.
For a long time...
No one spoke.
Outside...
The bells of Alexandria rang the end of another day.
Inside...
Captain Aldric Rowan listened as twenty more trapdoors fell.