Nearly two long, grueling hours had passed—
"....." Sakaar's space battles command instincts, his sense for reading the flow of war, sharpened with every passing second, like a blade honed in the fire of chaos itself.
And yet, despite the experience he was amassing in real time, the overall situation refused to change in any meaningful way.
By now, Sakaar finally understood why these cosmic wars could rage for centuries without ever declaring a victor.
It wasn't because either side lacked power.
It was because the act of war itself—on this colossal, interstellar scale—was simply too draining, too consuming, too endless.
At this very moment, three grand battlefronts encircled Verilion like burning rings of fury.
The first front, naturally, was the Fleet Battlefield—the heart of the storm—where hundreds of thousands of ships were locked in perpetual destruction.
