ClankClank
"There's a breach attempt at direction 27 degrees!"
"The General of the Northern Front has successfully neutralized the breach at 110 degrees!"
"Fires in direction 270 degrees have intensified — they've doubled in magnitude!, we need to doubled the defenses there!"
"...…."
Inside a colossal control chamber aboard the fleet's main mothership, the atmosphere was thick with urgency — alarms flashing crimson, data streams cascading across transparent screens, and the metallic hum of endless transmissions echoing from every direction.
And yet, amidst this storm of chaos, one man sat perfectly still.
He occupied the captain's chair — a massive, throne-like seat at the center of the command deck — his posture calm, his presence commanding. It was as if the raging inferno of war outside couldn't reach him.
