Captain Varis LangEstimated 9 hours after the Ash EventThe command post is empty; everyone has gone to dinner. Those still able to stand have gathered for the Cathedral’s evening meal. Captain Lang remains. He studies the map, slowly shifting charcoal marks across its surface. He pauses. For several moments, he doesn’t move at all. If anyone entered, they might mistake him for a statue standing watch over the city.Finally, both hands rise to his helmet.An ash-streaked face emerges beneath it, his dark hair a tangled mess.No captain. Just a tired man.He takes off his gauntlets. Frostbite climbs across both hands and halfway up his forearms. White, cracked flesh split by angry purple veins. Whether he failed to notice... or simply refused to acknowledge it, even he cannot answer.He crosses the room to the desk where casualty reports lie in uneven stacks. He picks one up.Miller.Geoff.Missing. Presumed lost beyond the walls.The paper slowly slips from his hands and flutters back onto the desk.His hand clenches. For a heartbeat, it rises. As though he might finally strike the wood.Instead, it slowly opens, and he crosses back to the map and puts his helmet and gauntlets back on.Captain Varis Lang—Captain of the Watch.