"The fourteenth squad has completed the cleanup of 'Acid Canyon'. A new variant of the Reaper Race was discovered, and samples have been collected and sealed."
"Logistics Team Three requests support, encountered a counterattack by the 'Excavator' group while digging underground fortifications… hold on, the issue has been resolved. These insects are pitifully weak after losing their time loop intelligence."
The communication channel of the command center was filled with reports of victories.
Frost sat in front of the tactical projection, with hundreds of real-time battlefield images floating in front of him.
His fingers tapped in the air, categorizing, analyzing, and redistributing each new piece of intelligence.
"The advance is 40% faster than expected," he muttered, but there was little joy in his eyes, "It's going too smoothly; it seems the opponent will flip the table much sooner than before."
