The debate instantly became heated.
The survival faction advocating for an immediate breakout clashed fiercely with the responsibility faction insisting on waiting for rescue, making the air in the command center so heavy it seemed like it could drip water.
Marshal Xing Zhuo's eyes were fixed on the enormous and silent shadow of Bug Race's number three biological ship, his heart in a fierce inner battle.
The thunderous tactics displayed by Bai E when leading the charge into the biological ship had given him a faint glimmer of hope, but the collective disappearance of the legendary mecha signals and the devastating spiritual energy shriek drowned that hope like a cold tide.
Time mercilessly slipped away amidst the debate, with every second concerning the survival of the entire fleet.
"Prepare to execute..." Xing Zhuo's voice was hoarse, nearly issuing the cruel order to break through.
...
Inside the number three biological ship, a hell of flesh and blood.
