A message came to them when Kain and his team were ready to go to Dungeon's 5th floor.
[Continuation: "Standby Orders"]
The dust hadn't even settled when the order came.
A short burst transmission, tight-band encrypted, cutting through the aftermath like a blade.
> PRIORITY ALERT – Command Directive
ALL UNITS HOLD POSITION. STANDBY FOR NEW ORDERS.
AUTHORIZATION: HIGH COMMAND / BLACK LEVEL OVERRIDE.
Kain stiffened as the neural feed hammered the message straight into his HUD.
He ground his teeth.
"Fucking hell," he muttered under his breath.
They were ready to move. Ready to press. The momentum was theirs. Strike while the dungeon was wounded. Secure the fifth floor.
Instead—
Standby.
A death sentence if they sat too long.
But orders were orders.
No one argued. No one questioned. Not out loud, anyway.
Because that's what soldiers did.
You fought.
You won.
You waited.
And if Command told you to sit your ass down in the middle of hell?
You sat.
