The weight of everything that had just been revealed still lingered heavily in the command tent, the air thick with unspoken thoughts and the burden of what lay ahead, yet despite the tension and the exhaustion that clung to his battered body, Lucas pushed himself up, his movements slow and strained as he rose from where he had been seated, his legs trembling under him as though they might give out at any moment, but he forced them to hold, his will refusing to let him remain down when there was still too much left unresolved.
"What's… the next plan…" he asked, his voice rough and uneven, each word costing him more than it should, yet his tone carried that same stubborn determination that had kept him standing even in the face of Ken's relentless assault, his head lifting slightly as though trying to focus on the others despite the state he was in.
No one answered immediately.
Not because they did not have thoughts, but because they could see it.
The way his body moved.
