After Nistia entered the war against the GGC, Coderican high command felt their competence rise faster than a caffeine-addicted squirrel on an espresso bender. With this newfound swagger, Coderica launched Operation River Split, a strategy so audacious it practically wrote its own theme song. The goal? To slice the GGC in half like a hot knife through butter—if that butter were made of shattered empires and crushed dreams. At the heart of this operation is the timeless Spear-tip Assault—the move that Coderica is known for. It's like the military equivalent of a surprise party where everyone’s invited, but only if you enjoy being hit hard enough to forget your own name. Picture this: speed, violence, and chaos—all wrapped up in a package so intense it might as well have a warning label. And now? It’s got a fresh twist. Introducing Guided Missile Cruisers (GMCs)—the missiles' cooler, more purposeful older sibling. These bad boys don’t just fire missiles; they fire missiles with a grudge. These long-range strikes are designed to turn GGC defense positions into fiery piles of regret before Coderican forces swoop in like the galaxy’s most efficient party crashers. If the GGC had a party playlist, it’d be all sad violins and broken speakers. And speaking of air superiority, let’s talk about Aircraft Carriers, those floating fortresses of pure destruction. They launch bombers and fighters with the precision of a chef tossing pancakes at a breakfast buffet, except instead of pancakes, it’s missiles, and instead of a buffet, it’s a burning wasteland. The GGC navy is left wondering whether they’re at war or if they’ve stumbled into an impromptu airshow that’s gone wildly off course. Either way, they're getting obliterated, and it’s not even close. Now, things really start to get weird on the planetary invasions front. In a move that’s equal parts terrifying and, honestly, just bizarre, Coderica deploys Psykers—psychic warriors who invade minds faster than you can say, "I’ll be in bed by 10 PM tonight." These psychic powerhouses don’t just shoot fireballs—they overload minds with attacks so intense that GGC defenders begin questioning whether they’re still alive or just having a really, really bad fever dream. Entire regiments find themselves chatting with imaginary friends, or worse, they start thinking they’re trapped in an endless loop of "Am I the Dreamer or the Dream?" It's not so much warfare as it is a poorly-run group therapy session. The GGC soldiers don’t just lose—they lose their minds.
