Right as the arguing hit its peak—
"Vmmm."
A low, heavy hum rolled out from the center of the fleet.
It didn't sound like machinery. It sounded like space itself groaning.
The next second, the air twisted.
The fleet's center looked like it got wrung by an invisible hand. The atmosphere creased with visible folds, and a tear slowly opened. A towering, middle-aged man stepped out of the rift.
No flashy entrance.
Just one step after another.
But as he emerged, that unnatural force spread like a shadow. Cracks bloomed through the surrounding space—dense and spiderweb-fine—as if the world's "skin" would split open the moment he brushed it.
Every Nexaris commander's voice dropped instantly.
Because that wasn't a weapon. It wasn't an energy cannon.
It was something higher.
A presence that made the rules around him feel… brittle.
