Rex watched the live feed from the scout drones, his jaw tightening as the battlefield unfolded before him. The plateau was a chaotic storm of plasma fire, screeching mist creatures, and the relentless advance of the fog itself.
The creatures were endless, a writhing, churning tide of biomechanical nightmares that seemed to surge forward with a mindless, unyielding ferocity. But what worried him more than their numbers was the mist.
It wasn't just a passive veil; it was alive, expanding and thickening as the creatures pushed forward, swallowing the terrain like a predator closing in on its prey.
His gaze flickered to another feed of Aegis units, their black-and-red armor gleaming under the flickering light of gunfire, who were falling one by one, overwhelmed by the sheer weight of the horde. The plateau's edge was a slaughterhouse, and the Blood Legion was barely holding the line.