"There is no need to escort them," he said, his voice unusually quiet but sharp like the edge of a blade. "Eliminate them all and continue the search. Anyone who dares to steal from my empire… does not deserve to live."
The Tyrant Unit lowered his head further, accepting the order without question. Rex turned back toward the sky, watching the stars with an emotionless gaze. In the distance, the lights of orbiting wreckage still drifted slowly like dying embers.
His wing gave another soft twitch, the only sign of tension in his otherwise still body.
Meanwhile, far above the planet's atmosphere, Cleo was already preparing for the next battle. The Musician General's fleet had arrived, his sleek, menacing ships shaped like instruments of death. In response, Cleo was quickly forming her own counter-formation, bringing together the full might of her fleet.
What remained of the once-proud Treasure Fleet was now a shadow of its former glory, reduced to just 1,400 ships.
