The capital city of Mavors stood as the defiant bastion of the Colonial Dominion amidst the chaos of war. Nestled deep inside the fortress island, its skyline was jagged with silhouettes of towering spires and fortified battlements of entrenched Arcanum Engines. Its streets was a labyrinth of stone and encompassed by colonial architecture. It wasn't merely a capital city, but a representative of the defiant spirit of Mavors.
Yet, above its skies, the heavens burned.
The strategic ships of the Sentinel Fleet hung like dark omen, their hulls glinting ever slightly under the wave of crimson breaths from wyverns and the overpowering blasts of the Arcanum Engines. The intricate runic barriers of each vessels shimmered under the volleys of plasma and energy, and it remained resilient akin to a dam containing a vast amount of water.
