There’s a crackling noise, like an old film starting up. We all turn towards the sound. The projected images on the wall are going out. They flare into white brightness, one by one, as if an explosion of light has washed away the whole set, the way a nuclear bomb goes off in a movie.
The ground rumbles beneath my feet and something slams against the reinforced door hard enough that the noise echoes through the whole cave.
I flipped through the book and landed on page 106.
Nikolai could have chosen to meet the enemy in the field, banners up, troops in plain sight. A show of force. It would have been the honorable thing, the brave thing. But Nikolai figured his soldiers were more interested in surviving than looking noble before the Fjerdans shot them full of holes, and he felt the same.