Geosynchronous orbit, edge of the battlefield.
Neos's shuttle was disguised as a "damaged" assault ship, trailing a small formation returning to Bulwark for resupply as it slowly approached the dark-red crystal planet.
Inside the cabin, the atmosphere was grave.
Neos stared fixedly at the monitor, which displayed Earth's surface, where twisted constructs rampaged through the ruins of cities.
Fury burned in his eyes.
Gorda rested his battle-axe across his knees, his rough fingers repeatedly stroking the blade. As though sensing its master's emotions, the axe gave off a low, ominous hum.
"Those scum who have defiled the Imperium's glory..." He forced the words through clenched teeth, every syllable steeped in lava-like rage. "How dare they..."
"Focus on the mission." Mio's icy voice cut in. Silver light flowed through her eyes without the slightest ripple.
"We can't interfere with the battle on Earth. Our battlefield..." She brought up another screen and swiped a finger across it. "...is inside Bulwark."
An energy distribution map unfolded, intricate lines and points of light interwoven.
"Look here." Mio's finger stopped over several massive energy convergence points. "More than eighty percent of Bulwark's output is directed toward the surface. The remaining energy is used to sustain its own defenses and basic operations, dispersed among its internal passages and alert systems."
"Her Majesty Sandora..." Iglanias spoke softly, his voice filled with almost devout reverence. "She alone is holding back nearly their entire legion?"
"More than that." Elysia propped her chin on one hand. Complex emotions flickered in her eyes—admiration, along with a trace of barely perceptible worry. "She's also controlling those Abyssal gods, suppressing the pollution across Earth, and even... fighting the Abyssal Hilling network in this region itself."
Malcador was silent for a moment before speaking slowly, his tone carrying the shock of witnessing something beyond