Subjective Initiative!

Time: January 30, 2025, 1100

Pacific Ocean, mission airspace near the Sky Pit.

Operation codename: Red Fox

With a whir, the satellite optical sensor zoomed in, staring at the Sky Pit over the Pacific Ocean. One glittering point after another was identified and transmitted through satellite antennas to every platform. This was merely the tip of the iceberg of Great East's system.

Red Fox-1 reporting to the Command Center: Our unit has reached the designated combat area.

With a roar, four WS-20 Taihang core engines propelled the KJ-3000 down from 12,000 meters to its tactical mission altitude of 9,000 meters. Its twin-sided array radar rotated, directing the phased-array radar's optimal operating angle—a 90-degree intersection—toward the Sky Pit.

The S-band active electronically scanned array radar firmly locked onto and tracked the Type 1 aircraft wandering through the sky, codenamed Sentinel. Like fish circling a coral reef, they carried out a sentinel's duty.

"Captain reporting to the commander. Altitude 9,000. Entering command position," the captain said over the internal communications channel as he watched the altimeter.

"All aircraft, connect to the command system."

"Directional data link communications stable."

"Escort formation in position."

Orders flowed in and out of the KJ-3000. On the Command Center's massive digital tactical sandbox, every combat unit linked to the system appeared on display, with its real-time status beside its icon.

Outside the KJ-3000's windows, two escorting J-15Ts rolled and climbed, leaving their current positions and deploying to the designated airspace on command.

Besides PL11As, their weapon pylons carried two PL15 medium-range missiles and PL10 dogfight missiles, a standard loadout of two medium-range and two short-range weapons.

The commander's gaze swept over the formation linked to the data chain before settling on aircraft 189. Its latitude and longitude coordinates, as well as its remaining fuel, were displayed beside it.

"Red Fox-1 calling Red Fox-2. Proceed to A-3, altitude 17,000, and await further instructions."

"Red Fox-2, received."

After Liu Jun refueled his J-15 in midair and arrived in the mission area, the data link automatically connected him to the AWACS codenamed Red Fox-1. But because it was too far away, he could not make out the exact command aircraft type. Was it a KJ-500 or a KJ-2000?

But in combat, that was not something he needed to consider. All he had to do was follow the commander's instructions.

He pulled back on the stick, climbed, and headed toward the designated airspace, waiting for further orders from Red Fox-1.

He adjusted the oxygen supply to his mask and pulled back on the stick to climb.

Altitude 12,000.

Altitude 15,000.

Altitude 17,000.

Having climbed to the designated altitude, Liu Jun leveled out the J-15. The Flying Shark's service ceiling was around 17,000 meters. One could say the commander's order had pushed the Flying Shark to its limit. The output of its twin turbofan engines began to decline; at this altitude, turbojet engines were far more efficient than turbofans.

"Red Fox-2 to Red Fox-1, arrived at mission altitude!"

Liu Jun turned his head and could already see the Seven-Colored Light of the Sky Pit diagonally above him. This time, he was far closer than during his last observation. He had no idea what the Sky Pit would look like through an optical sensor.

But to the naked eye, it was breathtakingly beautiful, beyond the limits of human technology.

Against the backdrop of the azure sky, a massive ring-shaped body of multicolored glazed light floated on the horizon. Rainbow-like gradients flowed across its surface, from violet and indigo to emerald green and amber gold.

Inside the ring was a contracted, collapsed structure, as though the heart of an abyss leading to another dimension had caved in. It released intense wave-particle light effects, distorting the surrounding clouds and light into a vortex flowing backward into the sky.

Crystal-like flecks of light refracted from the ring's edge and intertwined with the sky, creating a surreal visual spectacle. It felt like an invisible threat that could swallow humanity at any moment.

Altitude 17,000. Red Fox-2 in position.

As Red Fox-2 took its position on the battlefield situation display and the commander finished speaking, the atmosphere in the cabin immediately turned solemn. Only the faint hum of operating equipment remained.

"Red Fox-1 WATCH to Red Fox-2. Weapon control system on—Master Arm On. Launch PL17A. You have launch timing. I have relay guidance."

"Red Fox-2, understood! Weapon control system on. Launching PL17A at the target. I have launch timing. You have relay guidance."

After repeating the order and confirming there were no errors, Liu Jun began carrying out the PL17 launch mission.

The launch timing had been left to Liu Jun, which meant he had plenty of room to act. He looked at the altimeter. He was currently at the Flying Shark's 17,000-meter service ceiling, far higher than the main carrier-based fighters of other nations. But that alone was not enough.

The Sky Pit was at an altitude of 18,000 meters, already nearing near space—the maximum flight altitude for conventional aircraft.

With insufficient powered flight and the effects of Earth's gravity, many surface-to-air missiles simply could not reach that altitude.

There was a 1,000-meter altitude difference, and the Sky Pit was 150 nautical miles away—roughly 300 kilometers. The length of the third side could be calculated with trigonometry. Firing upward from below would severely drain the missile's energy, possibly causing it to miss and affecting the test results.

Since the launch timing had been entrusted to him, he had to make full use of his subjective initiative and do the job as well as possible—just like decades ago, when they beat the USA senseless. Though their equipment had been inferior, their tactics and strategy had utterly outclassed the American devils.

"Red Fox-2 calling Red Fox-1. I intend to perform a low yo-yo and punch upward, gaining an altitude advantage before launching PL17A. Request permission."

To ensure the mounted missile had maximum speed in its terminal phase and improve its hit probability, he would briefly break through the service ceiling and give the missile as much of an energy advantage as possible, even if it was only a little.

Inside the AWACS, the commander listened to Liu Jun's proposal, pondered for several seconds, then replied, "Red Fox-1 to Red Fox-2. Are you confident?"

"Yes!" Liu Jun answered loudly.

"If that's the case, permission granted!"

Respect and trust were also forms of combat strength. Since Liu Jun said he was confident, they had to give the person carrying out the mission room to perform freely.

Having received the commander's approval, Liu Jun adjusted his heading, pushed the stick forward, and sent the nose down into a fifteen-degree dive.

Whoosh!

Accelerated by Earth's gravity, the Flying Shark grew faster and faster. Its indicated airspeed did not increase much, but its true airspeed rose rapidly, and both wings began to tremble slightly in the dive.

Air had mass and resistance. The faster an aircraft moved, the greater the air resistance became. Under that resistance, the wings would begin to shake or even be snapped off. Once speed reached a certain point, the air would become "solid," smashing the aircraft apart outright.

Maximum speed! Maximum speed!

As the onboard voice issued its warning, aircraft 189 had dived to an altitude of 14,000 meters. The potential energy lost in descent had been completely converted into speed, storing up a massive amount of energy. Now, it was time to spend that accumulated energy!