Far away in Dagula, the night was as dark as ink.
Song Heping stood at the window on the second floor of the command center, gazing at the dead silent town outside. Compared to the clamor and carnage coming from the directions of Ozham and Agra through the radio inside, it was as quiet as a corner forgotten by the world.
The night was still long.
For many, it was destined to be a sleepless night.
But for himself, time was currently the most abundant resource.
He could wait.
And he could afford to wait.
Returning to the room, he approached the huge military map of Northwest Illinois, picked up a cup of strong tea from the table and took a sip.
On the map, red and blue arrows representing enemy and friendly forces interlocked, making the situation clear at a glance.
He put down the tea cup, picked up a red and blue pencil and at that decisive hub—Hulmatu, lightly, but with immense force, drew a full and firm red circle.
A single circle to determine the outcome.
