Tatehan felt his eyes almost explode at the mention of the Obscuron.
'Son of a —'
This bastard had inflicted massive damage just days ago: unleashed monsters across the city, killed hundreds, destroyed infrastructure, left scars that would take months to heal. And now he was doing it again, escalating the violence, pushing harder, showing the city ( and probably the entire planet) that he could strike anywhere, anytime, with impunity.
Tatehan's jaw clenched as he stared at the feed, watching the mech tear through the eastern district like it was made of paper. Buildings collapsed under its weight. Vehicles were crushed beneath its massive feet. Civilians scattered in every direction, their screams lost beneath the roar of destruction.
But even as anger surged through him, hot and boiling, Tatehan forced himself to breathe, to think and to not let emotion cloud his judgment.
