The next day.
In the heart of the forest known to humans as Bestiary Mountain, in the shadow of crumbling leaves and shattered branches, and beneath the scorched remains of the once-mighty Great Walnut Tree—
—The proud empire of Acornia stood on the brink of extinction.
Tiny tunnels crisscrossed beneath the forest floor like arteries under a battlefield.
Inside them, panicked messengers squeaked orders.
Heavily armored squirrels—wearing acorn helmets, bark-plated chest armor, and moss-camouflaged cloaks—hurried through the burrows lit by the fireflies.
In the war room—an underground chamber carved into the roots of a mighty oak—the emperor himself stood tall (or as tall as a squirrel could be).
Emperor Nutrius Acornpaw IV, regal and fluffy, his crown a golden peanut shell polished to shine, stared at a map carved into the bark of a tree wall.
Red pinecone markers denoted enemy locations.
