"Attack."
Zephyrion's voice rippled across the battlefield. The southern cadets erupted into violent roars that shook the land. Then, they poured towards the northern fortress like a tsunami.
The sight finally seemed to snap the northern Prime out of his daze.
"No… no, we can still win. We can still hold the fortress…" Malach muttered to himself before suddenly raising his voice. "Prepare to engage! Every cadet, man your stations! Defend the fucking fortress!"
But the northern cadets only stared at him with dark expressions, some even openly glaring. After everything that had just been exposed, it was clear that very few of them were eager to keep fighting for their Prime.
"What the fuck are you all staring at?!" Malach roared, his expression twisting. "They're taking the fortress! Fucking fight!"
