The Rhytil’s Preparations

Meanwhile, the Rhytil were already deep into their counteroffensive preparations. Supreme Commander Ilythir's determination to exploit Lena's reliance on the core had only grown stronger. He had begun to mobilize their forces, rallying his commanders for what he believed would be the final push against the Alliance.

In a darkened war room, Ilythir stood before a holographic display of the galaxy, watching as his forces spread across the key sectors of the Alliance's territory. The time for subtlety had passed. He was going to strike fast and hard, exploiting the Alliance's weaknesses before they could react.

"Lena will be our downfall," Ilythir muttered to himself, his voice low and menacing. "Her reliance on the core will be her undoing. And once she's gone, the Alliance will crumble."

He turned to his commanders, his expression cold and calculating. "We move in two days. The core's influence on Lena will weaken the Alliance's morale. We'll strike then, while they're vulnerable."

One of his commanders, a tall Rhytil warrior named Veyla, stepped forward. "What of the core's power, Commander? Are we prepared to counter it?"

Ilythir's lips curled into a cruel smile. "We have our own means of dealing with it. The new weapons are ready. The core's influence will not be enough to save Lena—or the Alliance."