The projection flared to life, and No. 18's figure appeared on the light screen.
"Commander, the target has fled this plane. We cannot track their destination," No. 18 reported, his voice ice-cold. "The wreckage of a spatial coordinate anchor was discovered twenty meters underground.
"The anchor's material consists of organic matter based on Blood and Flesh Runes. Through an analysis of its Magic Power decay, its time of creation is estimated to be between ninety and one hundred and twenty years ago. This aligns with the timeline of the Crimson Hand's initial invasion of the G-771 Plane.
"This indicates that the enemy cannot cross realms at will. Instead, they relied on coordinates buried a century ago, combined with external power, to force an invasion. Before retreating, they destroyed the spatial coordinate anchor."
Allen leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. "Have we gathered any intelligence on the enemy?"
