November 15, 2025 — 2:18 PM
Japanese Self-Defense Forces Enclave – Command Bunker, Central Meeting Room
The meeting room wasn't designed for diplomacy. It was a bunker, plain and functional. Concrete walls. Sandbags in the corners. A pair of rusting fans turning slowly on the ceiling. A rectangular metal table bolted to the floor sat at the center, covered with maps, marked-up aerial photos, half-burnt notebooks, and a portable radio wired to a backup battery.
Thomas Estaris sat at one end of the table, his back straight, hands resting calmly. He wore no rank on his vest, no insignia on his shoulder, just the standard Overwatch black field gear. A visitor from across the sea. A stranger.
Across from him sat five uniformed members of the Japanese Self-Defense Forces, each with a sidearm holstered, each one bearing the hardened stare of someone who had survived long past their country's fall.
Standing off to the side was Lieutenant Takeda, the one who had made first contact.
