"Do you just need an opening? Then let me try!"
The voice broke through the tense and desperate atmosphere.
Soldiers who heard the ironically calm voice froze for half a heartbeat, unsure whether their ears were playing tricks on them.
But then the comms crackled, and someone spoke—
"Duke Leander?" Marshal Julian verified, though even without receiving a reply, there could really be no mistaking it.
Because descending from above them—through inexplicable smoke, wind, and splattering seawater—was a figure that could belong to no one else.
The mecha's arrival silenced the battlefield.
It didn't crash or roar—it descended, slowly and deliberately, as if the heavens themselves had decided to drop a representative onto the field.
Soldiers stopped just to look, squinting against the glare just to make out its shape.
Then, amidst the spray of seawater and the clearing of their vision, their collective breath was stolen.
