Outside the Flagship:

The battle continued to rage in the skies above. The Alliance forces were fighting valiantly, but they were overwhelmed. The Rhytil ships had breached their defensive lines, and now their enemy fleet was steadily pushing forward. In the distance, Lena could see the massive Rhytil flagship—the source of their final push. Ilythir's cold, calculating presence loomed over the battlefield, and she could sense his strategy unfolding with deadly precision.

"Commander Lena, we've lost three out of four of our flanks," Kellan reported, his voice strained. "We can't hold them off for long unless we do something drastic."

Lena's jaw clenched. The Rhytil knew their weaknesses, and they were exploiting them at every turn. She glanced at the chaotic battlefield displayed on the holomap, searching for a glimmer of hope. But with every passing minute, the odds seemed to shift further in the Rhytil's favor.

"We have to change the tide of this battle, now," Lena muttered under her breath. "We have one shot at this."

Tavon, sensing her determination, moved to her side, ready to execute whatever strategy she had in mind. "What's your plan?"

Lena's eyes narrowed as she focused on the map. "We're going to hit their flagship with everything we have. If we can take out their command ship, it'll disrupt their entire fleet. But we need a diversion to get close enough."

She turned to Kellan, who was already assessing the situation. "Prepare our bombers for a direct assault. But we need a small team to take out their primary shield generator. Tavon, I need you to lead that team."

Tavon didn't hesitate. "Understood. I'll get them there."

Lena's eyes met Tavon's one last time before he left the room. She knew this was risky, but it was their only chance. She could feel the weight of the decision pressing down on her shoulders. If they failed, the core's instability would be the least of their problems. But she couldn't afford to fail. Not now.