Triage had become a nightmare. Deciding who to save, who had a chance of survival versus who was already lost. Making choices that would haunt healers forever but that had to be made because resources were finite and wounded seemed infinite.
Ren watched the situation unfold with growing concern he fought to keep out of his facial expression.
But internally he processed the reality that they were losing.
That without a change in circumstances they couldn't sustain defense long enough for help to arrive.
The math was inescapable. Defenders decreasing, new mutants' arrival still constant, defensive lines shrinking , casualties mounting and resources depleting.
Every metric pointed toward inevitable collapse. Just a question of when… Hours? Minutes?
Would help even arrive?
The thought crept in despite his efforts to suppress it. The possibility that no one was coming.
That the kingdom was focusing resources on defending many sides of the outside city walls instead.
