War VIII

Aiden frowned. "How big?"

Rick tapped the tablet, projecting a holographic map onto the wall. It displayed the region, dotted with the Abyssal strongholds they already knew about. But as the map zoomed out, it revealed a sprawling network of interconnected lines and nodes—dozens, if not hundreds, of additional Abyssal outposts and staging grounds.

"This," Rick said, pointing to the glowing web, "is their logistics network. Supply chains, troop movements, communication hubs. The Spire we just hit? It wasn't just a command center. It was a keystone."

Aiden's eyes narrowed. "Keystone?"

Rick nodded. "Taking it out disrupted their entire network in this region. They're scrambling to reroute supplies and issue new orders. That's why their forces didn't launch an immediate counterattack—they're in chaos. But it won't last."

"How long do we have?"

Rick hesitated. "A week. Maybe less. After that, they'll adapt, and things will get a lot harder."