The Countdown

The preparations were set, and the stage was nearly ready. Lena stood on the bridge of the Alliance Flagship, watching as the fleet assembled for the strike. Her heart pounded in her chest, the tension almost unbearable. She could feel the hum of the core within her, its power vibrating against her mind. She was ready—but she was also terrified. Every time she used the core's power, she felt herself slipping further from the person she once was.

"This is it," she said quietly, more to herself than anyone else.

Beside her, Zhen'ara placed a hand on her shoulder. "We're in this together, Lena. Whatever happens, we fight as one."

Lena nodded, grateful for her ally's support, but deep down, she knew the cost of failure would be unimaginable. The Rhytil were formidable, and their counterattack would be brutal. But this was the only chance they had to turn the tide of the war.

The fleet was ready. The Rhytil were preparing for their next move. And Lena—along with the rest of the alliance—knew that the coming battle would determine the fate of the galaxy.