The entirety of Snowfall was succumbing to the black hole's relentless pull. Its immense gravity even unsettled Vern, whose composure rarely wavered. The overwhelming force made his scalp tingle with unease.
"Rear Admiral Shedd, we're relying on you! There are still three ships at the spaceport that haven't launched!" Vern, abandoning his usual air of superiority as a senior Peculiar, called out with urgency, his tone stripped of its usual formalities.
Lyra, locked in combat with Westros, delivered a forceful kick that sent him staggering.
Pressing a hand to her earpiece, she barked, "Converge at the spaceport! Prepare for evacuation!" Without hesitation, she disengaged from the fight.
Westros wasn't about to let her go so easily. He moved to pursue, but suddenly faltered. His black armor began to disintegrate, and a pained voice echoed in his mind.
"I won't let you harm her," came Phelixes' tortured tone.
