Red sat in the dark expanse of the Void, observing the primary monitor. The Omni-Web radar illuminated the continental map in a brilliant network of subterranean fiber-optic roots. A massive cluster of hostile crimson blips surged toward the western perimeter and hit the edge of the Continental Moat.
"Pathetic," Red muttered, his voice echoing in the absolute isolation of the Void.
A coalition of three minor deities had massed on the far banks. Thousands of armored centaurs and enchanted infantry stamped their hooves in the dirt, staring down at the bioluminescent teal current of the Continental Moat.
"You march a medieval cavalry against an industrial firewall," Red said, resting his chin on his knuckles. "You deserve what happens next."
A brass horn blasted across the plains. The western vanguard surged forward, plunging down the embankments and crashing into the glowing shallows. They swung their swords above the water, roaring challenges to an empty shoreline.
