The dust settled slowly, the dense fog around the Broken Cliffs beginning to swirl with the aftermath of the missile strike. The echo of the explosion lingered in the air, mingling with the distant crash of the waves below. For a moment, there was nothing but silence—no laughter, no taunts, just the quiet hum of Vincent's earpiece as the team waited for confirmation.
"Commander, direct hit on the target," came the crisp report from Reaper-1's operator through Vincent's headset. "Heat signature disrupted, but... there's still movement down there."
Vincent's jaw tightened as he glanced over the shattered landscape. The area where the Demon Lord had stood was now a smoldering crater, debris scattered like confetti. Yet, deep down, Vincent knew it wouldn't be that simple. He turned to Marcus, who was peeking out from behind a jagged rock formation, his eyes scanning the smoke-filled clearing.
