Murmurs of fear had begun spreading across the command deck—first stirred by Toro's terrified outburst, then amplified by the operators' own confirmation of the incoming fleet's sheer numbers and power. But slowly, those whispers were silenced. Their commander's brutal intervention and rousing words managed to divert their minds away from despair, reforging their wavering hearts into something harder—resolve. Resolve to fight, and perhaps even to win.
And in truth, they were not entirely wrong to feel some measure of confidence. Barely twenty Galactic days ago, after reaching out to the Star Empire with information about the so-called "Holy Region"—a place they themselves understood little about—they had been rewarded.
While the Minotaurs were curious about that mysterious region, what captured their attention far more were the gifts the clan received in exchange.
