[hr] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/L3EskVH.png[/img][/center] [hr] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/4jhIwHp.jpg[/img] [b]π™½πš˜πšŸπšŠ π™»πšžπš‘ π™°πšŒπšŠπšπšŽπš–πš’ π™ΏπšŠπš•πš–πš’πš›πšŠ[/b] [b] π™Ήπšžπš•πš’ 𝟸𝟷𝚜𝚝, 𝟷𝟷𝟽 π™°πš… 𝟸:𝟢𝟢 𝙿𝙼[/b] [i]Masuzu Chie, Crystal von Caelestis, Rivka Sokolov, Selma Rosmarie[/i] [hr] [/center] IGNIS AURUM PROBAT. Fire tests gold, and none of Kheper were found wanting. It is not so for every cadet at Nova Lux. As the dormitories slowly fill once again there are tales of victories and losses, of sweat, blood, and magic. Very few tell the same story, and not every cadet has been cleared for field work. Failure, however, is merely a painful setbackβ€”each girl is too precious a resource to merely write off entirely. Still, there is a clear divide between those who have and those who lack. It’s the latter who receive the greatest reward: Two weeks reprieve from drills, tests, or schoolwork. A proper, no-strings-attached break. That brief vacation is marred only by the reports that begin to slowly filter through the city. They come from the local TV networks first; A heavy front of Nox is sweeping down across the coast, a slowly-building vortex of toxic magic. Soon enough the Palmyran military is confirming that the storm will be hitting the city, and the preparations begin soon after. Barricades are re-enforced, shelters shuttered, Nox diffusers checked and re-checked. There’s a palpable air of unease that turns to sinking dread. This is not the first time such a thing has happened, but such storms have never boded well, and no sanctum city has ever weathered one without issue. By the time the cadets are back on duty they have new briefings waiting for them. Nova Lux’s Ars Magi will be second in the line of defense should anything break through the walls and the full-fledged Magi defending them. Teams are to be deployed throughout the city at strategic points to repel any invaders, along with a small detail of officers to supervise and coordinate the defensive efforts. And so begins the storm of the century. [hr] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/wnnjUFt.png[/img] [b] πš‚πš. π™½πš’πšŒπš‘πš˜πš•πšŠπšœ π™²πšŠπšπš‘πšŽπšπš›πšŠπš• π™ΏπšŠπš•πš–πš’πš›πšŠ π™°πšžπšπšžπšœπš πŸΎπšπš‘, 𝟷𝟷𝟽 π™°πš… 𝟺:𝟢𝟢 𝙿𝙼 [/b] [i]Masuzu Chie, Crystal von Caelestis, Rivka Sokolov, Selma Rosmarie[/i] [hr] [/center] The tempest hits at exactly 1600 hours. Kheper’s assignment is South-Central Palmyra, near the northern end of the massive Zolotoy Bridge that stretches across the bay cutting through the center of the city. Their base of operations is St. Nicholas Cathedral, a weathered two-story building on a tall hill overlooking the bay. From its single tower one can see the burning blue lights of the Nox diffusers lining the bay, and the gleaming lights of the Zolotoy. A vanguard of heavy raindrops splatter against the arched windows of the church, the steady rattle soon replaced by a thundering roar as the sky outside turns a wicked black. Anyone at one of those windows can see the churning black fog creeping across the bay, poisonous clouds billowing up against the lines of the glowing blue pylons that serve as Palmyra’s defenses. The satellite imagery provided by the array of monitors the officers have set up paints the full picture in blurry infra-red: A swirling tornado of Nox is slowly engulfing the city, eating away at the glowing median of Palmyra’s border. Kheper are spared the details of the wider effort. What little they can glean from the screens and quiet chatter of their handlers is that their seniors are hard at work at the walls. Time passes. The night deepens and the sky goes black. One of the cadets from the Officer’s Academyβ€”Crystal recognizes him as Liam Castra Neptune, her dance partner from the military ballβ€”provides coffee to ward against the sleep and the steadily increasing chill, plus grainy protean bars on request. The downpour grows stronger. The wind howls. β€œCaptain.” One of the young officers voices cuts through the makeshift outpost. β€œPower Station 5 is reporting an attack.” The older woman in charge switches the satellite feed, scrolling a few buildings over. The glowing shape of the Station is pristine, bright yellow against the red cloud that surrounds the city. It’s not farβ€”about five city blocks. β€œWe’ve lost comms.” Reports another cadet. β€œUnderstood.” Replies the captain. She turns toward the Ars Magi next, her voice clipped and authoritative: β€œDeploy and investigate. Protect the station at all costs.”