(The next Day, Planet Bravaria, Righteous Faction Territory)
The planet Bravaria was a picture of peace that morning.
Golden clouds drifted lazily across its clear emerald skies, the twin suns painting the cobbled streets in soft amber hues as life unfolded with the unshaken rhythm of routine.
Vendors shouted prices from under floating stalls, air trams hummed overhead, and children in white tunics darted between the legs of guards, laughing as they chased each other through the open plazas.
Nothing about the air hinted at what was coming.
Then the sirens began to scream.
*WEEEOOOO—* *WEEEOOOO—*
At first, no one moved. Heads turned upward, eyes narrowing in confusion as the alarms reverberated through the capital towers.
A man carrying fruit stopped mid-step, clutching the basket closer to his chest.
"Huh? Air raids in Bravaria?" he muttered. "That's not possible. For an enemy fleet to reach us, they'd have to break through at least a dozen other planets…"
