Lucas sat alone in the command chamber above the castle keep. A lantern flickered beside the war table, casting wavering light over the battlefield map. The scent of blood still clung to his skin, and every inch of his body ached from the Aegis backlash. But it didn't matter.
Time was running out.
The Bastion Maze would only hold Agram for half a day.
He couldn't waste it.
He stared at the map, replaying every detail. The terrain. The troop placements. The enemy's routes. The weaknesses in their lines.
Angel's voice hummed gently in his ear.
{You're stable enough to rest, Lucas. You shouldn't push yourself.}
"I can't rest. Not while he's still breathing."
{Then let me assist. I've analyzed the previous battlefield data and projected Agram's behavioral patterns. His aggression makes him predictable... but only if we control the environment.}
Lucas exhaled slowly. "Then let's control it."
