Lin Mo looked down at the eleven-year-old girl tugging urgently at his dark coat sleeve, her clear eyes glistening with empathy as the soldiers wept across the deck.
Out in the dark void between Wall Number One and Wall Number Two, the Heart-Withering Despair Curse raged like a black-purple blizzard. Ethereal black thorns formed from ten million years of accumulated bank debts snaked through the void, wrapping around the hulls of the twenty-four hundred star-fortresses.
The curse did not attack with raw physical force. Instead, it attacked the deepest spiritual vulnerabilities of every living soul.
Across the frontline ships, veteran soldiers slumped against their consoles. Strong, battle-hardened men were clutching their chests, their breathing ragged as phantom memories of lost children, burned villages, and unpaid debts tore at their soul cores. Hallucinatory foreclosure notices written in black blood drifted before their eyes, whispering that their lives were worthless and that their families had died in cold misery.
General Tie Canghai planted his boots wide on the deck of Fortress Frost-Zero. The seven-foot commander gritted his teeth, his knuckles turning white against his iron staff as dark shadows clawed at his mind.
“Hold your formations, men!” Tie Canghai roared, his voice strained with agonizing effort. “Do not listen to the debt-phantoms! Focus on the suns!”
