Ocean Street Wanderer

100 nautical miles from the mysterious Sky Pit, the Carl Vinson Carrier Strike Group prowled the surrounding waters. In a wartime state, this distance offered no sense of security for a carrier, but this was a reconnaissance mission.

This distance was just right for them—not too close, not too far, sitting squarely within the carrier's [Medium Defense Zone]. It allowed them to effectively drive away civilian vessels trying to approach, control the surrounding sea area, and prioritize the lighthouse.

"Captain, the surrounding waters have been cleared." The First Mate said loudly.

"Good. Are our Eastern counterparts still taking their sweet time getting here? Hopefully, they'll arrive before we finish our investigation." The captain of the Carl Vinson lowered his binoculars. The advantage of a nuclear-powered carrier's high speed and endurance lay in its global deployment capability.

As luck would have it, after being chased out of the Western Pacific, the Carl Vinson Strike Group was planning to return to Hawaii for maintenance, while the Charles de Gaulle was also preparing to resupply and head back to Europe. After all, it had only come for a leisurely lap to show its presence and prove it still had some tricks up its sleeve.

"Where are our allies?"

"Sir, they're still lagging behind at a leisurely pace."

Because the Charles de Gaulle's reactor was from a nuclear submarine, it didn't match its massive hull, making its speed quite concerning. Under full power, it inevitably fell behind the Carl Vinson.

The captain chuckled. Perhaps in a retreat, the Charles de Gaulle could finally leverage its advantage.

Meanwhile, just in case, the Carl Vinson's captain still made routine deployments. You could believe Hollywood movies had high-ranking military officials acting stupid—that was for the plot—but you absolutely couldn't believe a real-life carrier captain was an idiot!

Two E-2 AWACS were deployed 200 kilometers from the carrier at an altitude of 9,000 meters, continuously monitoring the sea within 500 kilometers and the airspace within 700 kilometers. Any civilian vessel approaching this area would be driven away.

Six Super Hornet fighters deployed to the battlefield patrolled the airspace 350 kilometers ahead of the carrier's course. At 100 kilometers from the carrier, two Growler electronic warfare aircraft were monitoring the surroundings according to their patrol mission.

"Sir, our radar is heavily jammed. We can't analyze it through radar."

The two E-2s circled the [Sky Pit] from a distance, and the AWACS combat crew reported their findings to the Carl Vinson. The Global Hawk that had been conducting close reconnaissance had gone missing not long ago—inexplicably missing. No wreckage was found in the surrounding waters, the AWACS didn't receive any IFF identification signal, the flight control program didn't fly the lost drone back, and the entire aircraft had simply vanished.

The loss of the Global Hawk made the soldiers more cautious about this reconnaissance operation.

Soon, an "uninvited guest" that the soldiers didn't welcome showed up. As a regular loafer roaming the ocean, how could it miss out on this kind of excitement?

"Oh, shit! It's the 815A!"

In the pained voice of the E-2 AWACS pilot, a ship topped with four balls appeared on the distant sea surface. This vessel swaggered into their naked-eye visual range, yet the E-2's radar barely reacted to it!

"Damn it, notify—never mind, let them look if they want."

The combat crew commander was about to send the message back but then remembered the 815A's powerful jamming capability. The message they sent might just turn into "Pleasant Goat and Big Big Wolf."

They couldn't fight it, and being watched wasn't anything new. Let them look; just pretend they weren't there.

Invisible! They simply didn't exist!

The 815A cut right into the carrier strike group, using advanced electronic detection equipment to probe the "Sky Pit" up close.

"Report, the target area is filled with chaotic electromagnetic interference."

The detection capability of those four balls was far beyond what the old Empire's ships could match. In electronic warfare alone, Great East had suppressed them by two generations!

"Can we analyze the electromagnetic spectrum?"

"No! The interference is too severe!"

The Senior Chief Petty Officer stared at the radar returns—all electromagnetic noise, no pattern at all. The radar scan was disrupted by chaotic electromagnetic waves, the reflected signals distorted. Even the active phased array radar was jammed, unable to determine the target's specific condition.

Under the interference, the echoes showed the massive ring in the distant sky growing larger, then smaller, then vanishing—not as static as it appeared to the naked eye.

"Switch to optical radar."

Radar failure didn't mean all human detection methods were useless. The ship's high-precision optical radar scanned the Sky Pit, beginning its analysis.

The optical lens zoomed in on the Sky Pit, like staring into a kaleidoscope. Instantly, the optical radar captured shifted spectra—infrared and ultraviolet bands were chaotically distorted.

Looking at the feedback data, the Senior Chief furrowed his brow deeply. This was a physical phenomenon they had never seen before: the electromagnetic field was utterly chaotic, the electromagnetic spectrum clogged, and the optical spectrum severely shifted. To him, this [Sky Pit] looked like a funnel.

"Professor Song, any thoughts?"

The Senior Chief turned to look at the specially recruited officer Song Xizhu, who wore gold-rimmed glasses. In terms of professional theory, her opinion was essential.

Song Xizhu's calm face carried a hint of contemplation as she repeatedly scanned the radar feedback signals and the Sky Pit's spectral shift. After a few seconds of thought, she picked up the phone beside her. She had an idea, but executing it required the captain's approval.

"I have an idea. I want to irradiate the Sky Pit with a laser. I suspect the curvature of space around the Sky Pit has changed. The electromagnetic wave and spectral shifts are just side effects; the real issue lies in gravitational waves." Professor Song briefly explained her inference.

The captain listened to her report. This key technical expert's words had to be taken seriously. He pondered for a moment, looked up at the sky, and said, "Approved."

With the captain's approval, the 815A swaggeringly deployed a low-tech disposable drone toward the Sky Pit. This little thing was instantly picked up by the E-2's radar, but if they didn't see it, they didn't see it—you can never wake someone who's pretending to sleep!

The drone approached the interference zone around the Sky Pit, its onboard optical sensor locked onto the target. The laser device on the 815A aimed at the target and fired a beam of invisible chopped laser encoding.

Though invisible to the naked eye, through optical instruments, the laser could be seen shooting straight at the Sky Pit. Instantly, the beam entered the Sky Pit like it had fallen into a kaleidoscope, refracting, and eventually disappearing inside.