**Jasmine's Log, Supplemental**
**Rothguard Crystal recording**
**Rothgard Fall plus 26 days (estimated)**
**Late afternoon**
Threads of hope stretch far.
Uncle's voice bridges the miles.
A road is born in spoken words.
Jasmine stood on a low rise overlooking the prefab district, the communication crystal warm in her palm. The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the orderly rows of modular buildings, turning the gravel paths into ribbons of gold. Around her, the sounds of new life in Shire Base continued—children's laughter, the low hum of power systems, the clatter of construction crews expanding the perimeter. Yet her mind was far away, reaching toward Roth Vale and the uncle who had become the last anchor of her family's legacy.
She activated the crystal with a gentle pulse of will, the familiar glow blooming in her hand. After several long moments, Count Reginald Roth's voice answered, strained but steady. "Jasmine? By Adoni, child, is that really you? We feared the worst when the fleet lost contact."
"Uncle," she said, voice thick with relief. "I am safe. The fleet made it to the cove on the North-Eastern coast. We are no longer alone. I have found allies—powerful ones from a ship called the Discovery. They have technology beyond anything we have ever seen. They are helping us evacuate everyone to a secure base in the mountains. The Black Fleet is coming. They are conquering the Atlantia Islands and preparing to strike the eastern coast of Albion. But we are not alone anymore."
There was a long pause on the other end. When Reginald spoke again, his voice was quieter, laced with cautious hope. "Allies from the sky? Jasmine… the Black Fleet has taken the Atlantia Islands. Their scouts are already probing our eastern shores. If these allies are as strong as you say, we may yet have a chance. But Roth Vale is under pressure. We are holding, but barely."
Jasmine's grip tightened on the crystal. "We are coming, Uncle. Not just with people, but with knowledge and strength we never had before. Hold on. We will find a way to reach you." She lowered the crystal, the connection fading, and turned to Captain Nolan, who had been waiting a respectful distance away. The two of them walked slowly along the edge of the district, the mountain slope falling away toward the distant valleys that eventually led to Roth Vale.
"We need a road," Jasmine said without preamble. "A proper one. From Shire Valley down through the mountains to Roth Vale. The trails we used to reach the cove are too narrow and steep for heavy movement. If we can connect the two, we can move supplies, people, even some of your machines. It would turn this base into a true stronghold for the resistance."
Nolan looked out over the rugged terrain, the peaks rising like ancient guardians around the valley. His expression was thoughtful, but guarded. "It's technically feasible. We have the engineering capability—earth-movers, stabilizers, prefab bridging sections. We could carve a functional route. But I have to be honest with you, Jasmine. My crew is here to survive and to help those who are already under our protection. We can't commit to a larger war on Albion unless it becomes unavoidable. Our resources are finite. Every mile of road we build, every vehicle we divert, is a choice that pulls us deeper into a conflict that isn't ours to fight."
Jasmine stopped, facing him fully. "I understand the caution. I'm not asking you to wage our war. I'm asking for a lifeline. A road gives us mobility—a way to support my uncle's forces, to move the freed slaves and refugees deeper into safe territory if needed. It turns two separate strongholds into one connected front. We would handle the defense. Your people would only need to provide the path."
Nolan considered her words, the weight of command clear in his expression. "A path we can give. We'll start surveying the route immediately. Use the HAS-Vs for initial scouting and the heavy shuttles to move equipment. It won't be a highway, but it can be a functional lifeline. We'll protect your people here, share what knowledge we can, help with logistics. But the larger fight—the battles, the strategy, the defense of Albion—that must remain yours. We'll stand with you as allies, not as crusaders. We can tip the scales, but we cannot carry them."
Jasmine nodded slowly, her mind turning inward. She thought of her uncle in Roth Vale, the fragile alliances she had begun to forge. Her hand slipped to the communication crystal at her belt, fingers tracing its familiar facets. The road would be more than stone and earth—it would be a bridge between two worlds and two hopes.
The dragon from the east had come.
But now a new home was opening its arms.
The green watched from the ridge.
The strangers offered light.
Two worlds were learning to walk together.