Northern Ocean — Dawn
The sky remained overcast, a thick ceiling of gray stretching endlessly across the sea. Light came only in pale shades, filtered and uncertain.
The wreckage of three warships still floated in the distance. Black smoke curled from broken masts and scorched hulls. The ocean had swallowed the rest.
The Indiana fleet remained in full formation.
The Bernardian fleet had not moved since their counterstrike.
Bridge of the Divine Ram
Admiral Devgan stood over the command altar, arms behind his back. His face was calm, but his eyes were sharp with calculation.
Captain Varun approached.
"Recovery ships are bringing in survivors. Three Thunderbirds wounded. One rider lost."
"Four ships gone. One crippled." Devgan's voice remained level. "Expected losses for a first engagement."
Varun gave a crisp nod. "The enemy didn't press forward."
"No," Devgan replied, walking to the edge of the altar. "They didn't come to win. They came to demonstrate. And they succeeded."
