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Description
The war lasted four hundred and twenty six years, Odin had witnessed every second of it. Earth is but a memory, Odin's lenses have never actually seen it, but his human retains some thoughts of the distant planet, it is far behind the concerns of the warlord. The amount of bodies Odin has gone through is in the thousands, nothing compared to how many companions he has lost.

He stands like a monolith over the swaying beige grass of the Cel, the sensors in his immense body feet the breeze brush against the living metal exoskeleton that forms his near-indestructible armour. His lens focuses into the distance, he sees nothing, but a scent on the wind betrays the presence of the enemy. The titanic admiral raises Gungnir, his telephone pole-sized spear, sending radio waves to both grounded and airborne units to move in. Behind Odin, a countless number of units rise from the deceptively gentle grass. Overhead, a swarm of airborne allies, organic and artificial, soar into the direction of the enemy. Distant sounds, inapplicable as any true noise, echo throughout the empty landscape.

Deep within the space surrounding Cel and the rest of the planets in the system, Odin's signal is received. Ships the size of continents engage thrust, slowly, they crawl toward their own unseen enemies shrouded by cosmic expanse.

The final battle has begun.

Description
The war lasted four hundred and twenty six years, Odin had witnessed every second of it. Earth is but a memory, Odin's lenses have never actually seen it, but his human retains some thoughts of the distant planet, it is far behind the concerns of the warlord. The amount of bodies Odin has gone through is in the thousands, nothing compared to how many companions he has lost.

He stands like a monolith over the swaying beige grass of the Cel, the sensors in his immense body feet the breeze brush against the living metal exoskeleton that forms his near-indestructible armour. His lens focuses into the distance, he sees nothing, but a scent on the wind betrays the presence of the enemy. The titanic admiral raises Gungnir, his telephone pole-sized spear, sending radio waves to both grounded and airborne units to move in. Behind Odin, a countless number of units rise from the deceptively gentle grass. Overhead, a swarm of airborne allies, organic and artificial, soar into the direction of the enemy. Distant sounds, inapplicable as any true noise, echo throughout the empty landscape.

Deep within the space surrounding Cel and the rest of the planets in the system, Odin's signal is received. Ships the size of continents engage thrust, slowly, they crawl toward their own unseen enemies shrouded by cosmic expanse.

The final battle has begun.