"We need support! The enemy is too strong, we—AAAAHHH!!"
On the bridge of the Tania.
Claudius sat upon the Governor's throne.
The staff who had once sworn to follow him, who had tirelessly trumpeted the benefits of war and flattered him day in and day out, were now slumped in their chairs, deathly pale.
Cold sweat born of terror beaded on their foreheads, soaking their fine clothes.
The local warlords and Knight Lords, who had once boasted of overthrowing the Grand Governor and helping him ascend, had all changed their tune after learning that Reinhardt, the Lord of Vengeful, had broken through the defensive lines and boarded the Tania Flagship.
Every last one of them had grown evasive, refusing to move their troops.
Aside from the command center's numerous liaison officers, who were still tirelessly negotiating with the fleet's warlords and begging for support, the bridge was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
