The Death Spirit's clone dissipated, its task of notifying the undead underway. Its other clones, scattered across various battlefields, received the message simultaneously, ensuring a swift dissemination of the queen's command.
Alex, feeling the weight of exhaustion, glanced at the time. It was past two in the morning. She retreated to her bedroom, ready for some much-needed rest.
Before drifting off, she remembered to send a message to Drake, informing him of the upcoming event.
Lilith and Satan, however, were left out of the loop. They were, after all, former allies, not part of her inner circle.
She snuggled into her blankets, closed her eyes, and was soon fast asleep.
[Night retreats, dawn arrives]
Arsen Continent, Featherfolk territory.
The Featherfolk chieftain perched atop a grand throne, its blue-feathered face creased in confusion as it listened to the reports from the front lines.