{Macron pov}
After returning to his flagship, the White Frost—an Oblivion-class warship—Fleet Admiral Macron settled into the high command seat, overlooking the bridge where his crew worked with disciplined precision.
"Fire up the propulsion engines to maximum," he ordered. Since the moment the fleet had exited the quantum tunnel, they were still crawling forward at a sluggish pace—an inevitable effect of transitioning from the tunnel's reality to the laws of normal space and motion.
His voice carried a sharp edge of anticipation as he rubbed his hands together, much like Grand Admiral Kael Throne. "It's time we wave into action and test these beauties—see if they're as strong as the Imperial Research and Development Department claims."
His gaze shifted toward the tactical display. "Our target is the Star Fortress and the fleet surrounding it. Though their ships are smaller, it makes no difference—if anything, it simplifies matters for us, and we should take full advantage."
