(Deep Space, aboard the Cult craft, Leo's POV)
Nemo shrank behind him into a dull, dark planet, as his transport ship slipped into deep space, the engines humming in a low steady rhythm as the stars stretched into thin silver threads beyond the cockpit glass.
Leo sat alone with his back half slouched in the passenger chair, the cabin around him lit only by the cold light of the main console, as a layered holographic interface unfolded in front of him, each window neatly tagged in Chaosbringer's precise, helpful handwriting.
[Updated Regional Target Proposal after Nemo conquest—
Current Kill Count: 432,000,000 / 2,000,000,000]
His eyes lingered on the numbers for a breath, as he inhaled once and then pushed the emotion aside, because thinking about the scale of it now was only ever going to slow him down.
"Two billion," he murmured, almost casually. "One point five six eight left."
He reminded himself, as with a steady tap, he opened the first tab.
*Tap*
