In the command room of Osborn Private Military Island, an electric energy filled the atmosphere. Low voices mingled with the sound of boots clattering against the cold, steel floor, while the steady hum of machinery reverberated through the expansive complex.
Arthur occupied the head seat at the circular command table, a calm presence amid the surrounding storm of activity.
His hands rested thoughtfully on the glossy surface of the table, where holographic displays floated above it—maps, coordinates, and ominous red markers pulsated like a heartbeat across different continents.
The air was thick with tension, yet a strong sense of determination bound the gathered officers together.
