Four days after the battle in Bataan.
The sound of the rain outside was muffled behind reinforced concrete and steel. Inside the briefing room, the lights hummed low and steady. Thomas Estaris stood by the holographic table, arms folded, expression unreadable as Phillip keyed in a command. A digital layout flickered to life, casting pale blue light over the room.
Phillip tapped through the files, bringing up a series of dossiers pulled from interrogations and compiled intelligence.
"Alright," Phillip began, his tone clipped, efficient. "We've confirmed the structure of the group responsible for the sabotage at Bataan. They call themselves—Crimson Dawn."
Thomas didn't speak. He nodded once, prompting him to continue.
Phillip pointed at the center node of the projected network.
