Hans gazed at the black jagged piece of meteorite lying at the bottom of the huge pit.
The artillery strikes are too powerful; he measured the radius. This weapon shouldn't be used carelessly in battle.
It was a decisive weapon that could shift the tide of the battle—for better or for worse. Current results were ideal to his plans, and he hoped that future battles would be the same.
"Matilda, do you feel the psychic energy?" he asked.
"The aura is faint, Commander," Matilda replied.
"It's strange indeed," Hans furrowed. "Do you think I bombed it too hard?"
"A plausible effect, Commander."
"Hmm," Hans shrugged. Guessing won't lead him anywhere.
"Down to the pit we go then."
His boots skidded over the loose soil; he looked around the hole in curiosity.
Rebars stuck out like a mess, bent in shapes and covered in rust. Broken pipes hissed softly as water trickled slowly to the bottom.
