The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting a blood-red glow over the battlefield. The waters between Valoria and Ruthenia were littered with the debris of war—twisted metal, floating wreckage, and the faint shimmer of oil slicks. The battle had raged for hours, but now the tide was turning. The once-formidable Ruthenian fleet was in full retreat, their formation broken, ships scattered like wounded beasts fleeing a predator.
Aboard the VNS Titan, Admiral Reinhardt watched through his binoculars as the Ruthenian fleet attempted to withdraw. Flames danced on the water's surface where Ruthenian ships had taken direct hits. The RNS Tsar Alexander was listing heavily, its superstructure crumbling, while the RNS Catherine limped away, trailing thick black smoke.
"Admiral," Captain Brandt reported, his voice laced with urgency, "the Ruthenians are retreating, but they still have firepower. They're trying to regroup beyond our range."
