With the plan I had just finalised with the jumper, I felt a surge of confidence that things were finally shifting in my favour. On one front, I had Wryly organising a massive offensive force.
On the other, the jumper was tasked with sabotaging the construction of that tower, throwing a wrench into the enemy's timeline. The twelve-hour window Wryly requested—once a daunting stretch of time—now seemed entirely manageable.
"Should I take a nap or what?" I muttered to the empty air.
Sleep was a luxury I hadn't tasted in far too long. However, before I could succumb to exhaustion, I pulled up my interface and sent out a flurry of brief, instructional messages to my team members. They needed to be battle-ready for the impending slaughter.
Almost immediately, my inbox pinged with responses. The primary concern was the logistics of our human army—a staggering force exceeding three million fighters. Managing such a crowd required structure.
