Far off in the distance—
Azrath hovered high above the battlefield, watching coldly from the sky.
He had yet to make a move himself.
Only half of his forces had been deployed—just enough to probe the situation. The rest of the Phoenix Imperium fleet remained in high-mobility formation, holding tactical positions and awaiting further orders.
"Emerald Castle…" Azrath murmured, eyes narrowed. "Even more dangerous than the intel suggested."
"This level of Powered Combat Armor… it's already beyond the scope of a standard spatial civilization."
A voice like molten iron grinding against steel suddenly rumbled behind him.
"That's enough."
Space twisted slightly as a towering metal figure appeared without a sound.
Clad in heavy armor from head to toe, he looked like a walking fortress of steel.
"Vornath?" Azrath blinked in surprise.
"The outcome of this war is no longer in question," Vornath said, stepping forward. His voice was calm, resolute.
