B.U.G.F.O.R.C.E. The Siege of Stonewall
Stonewall Outpost was never meant to be beautiful.
It was built to endure.
Raised beneath the ancient Tree of Life, where roots thicker than city streets gripped the earth and old stone pressed against living wood, Stonewall stood as humanity's forward shield against the Wilds. Its walls were not clean or polished. They were patched, reinforced, weathered, and scarred by years of conflict. Lanterns burned in root-shadowed corridors. Saplight glowed along support beams. Walkways bent around living bark and exposed roots. Every platform, gate, passage, and watch post had been shaped by necessity.
Stonewall was not a kingdom.
It was a military outpost.
It was a survival machine.
And for the men and women of B.U.G.F.O.R.C.E.(TM), it was the line that could not break.
Captain William Jones knew that better than anyone. As commander of Stonewall, he carried the weight of every wall, every patrol, every casualty report, and every decision made beneath the Tree of Life. He was not a man given to speeches or empty comfort. He believed in formation, discipline, preparation, and responsibility. He believed a commander did not ask others to hold ground he was unwilling to stand on himself.
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