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Illinois

The British artillery doesn’t even reach the fort walls. The brigade lacks scaling ladders, so Appleseed’s safe on the wall, watching. In the distance, the Shawnee sit: there’s nothing else to do.

“You didn’t try too hard,” he says, “to stop me.”

“No.”

“I saved twelve families, bringing them here.”

“They’ll be cold enough, in time.” Frost smiles. “But their deaths would have changed the Ohio campaign–kept the Shawnee useful. Now, they won’t be able to use the colonies’ conflict with the Empire to preserve their independence.”

Appleseed shivers.

“Why freeze farmers,” murmurs Frost, “when I could shatter a nation?”

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