"Point 1775, anomaly detected, nearest agent please proceed for defense, expected alarm level: crimson."
Space-time anomalies have become routine, and the Prince reflexively begins mobilizing personnel for defense. He mechanically reports the data; as long as it's not black, everything is manageable. If it's black, the most elite agents must be deployed for the mission.
But this time, after the routine report, a soft voice came through his communicator: "Received."
Upon hearing this voice, the Prince spat out his tea in shock and immediately stood up: "Master..."
"No problem, I'll handle it."
