In the depths of space, the remnants of the Dark Order fleet glided soundlessly through the stars.
The massive fleet that had once numbered hundreds of warships now had fewer than thirty left.
Like worker bees that had lost their queen, they drifted aimlessly through the void—without direction, purpose, or hope.
The hulls were covered in scars from battle: scorch marks from energy cannons, dents from impacts, and gashes torn open by explosions.
Some of the warships were still leaking atmosphere, thin streams of white vapor spraying from their cracks.
They instantly froze into ice crystals in the vacuum, like rows of silent tears.
The flagship Sanctuary II had suffered the worst damage.
Its port side had been torn open by the shockwave created when Android 18 crushed the energy sphere.
The gash stretched from the bow all the way to the stern, like a wound carved by a blade.
Several compartments inside the ship had been exposed to vacuum, and hundreds of Dark Order soldiers had been sucked into space in that instant, dying without a sound.
Two-thirds of the bridge's observation windows had shattered and were temporarily sealed by an energy field.
A blue curtain of light flickered across the broken windows, emitting a low hum.
Ebony Maw stood at the center of the bridge with his hands behind his back, his pale face utterly expressionless.
His obsidian robe glimmered dully beneath the dim bridge lights. His long, slender fingers were interlaced behind his waist, his nails neatly trimmed.
His posture remained elegant and composed, like an aristocrat taking a stroll through his own garden.
But something was burning in his eyes.
Not fire, but ice.
The kind of cold that would not freeze even at absolute zero—colder and more dangerous than any flame.
"Everyone is watching you."