That was a B-2A Spirit stealth strategic bomber.
Like a sharp sword suspended over Damocles's head, it hovered coldly and silently at the edge of the stratosphere. Its bomb bay carried a weapon capable of utterly reshaping the landscape and causing permanent ecological disaster—the B83-1 variable-yield thermonuclear bomb, with a maximum yield of 1.2 megatons of TNT.
Shadow Watcher was the darkest trump card in the plan, the Final Option.
It did not need to approach the battlefield. It did not need to transmit any signal.
It only needed to maintain absolute silence above the clouds, like a cold Soul Reaper, patiently awaiting the one command from the Deep Hammer Command Center—either "Safe," terminating the mission, or "Meltdown," initiating the final judgment.
The only thing sustaining its presence was the continuous yet silent stream of location and status data over the encrypted data link, proving that this sharp sword still hung overhead.
The atmosphere in the Command Center had gone beyond frozen, reaching some critical threshold. The massive main screen filled everyone's vision. On the left, real-time data streams for Lancer's altitude, speed, and heading scrolled frantically; in the center were the steadily shrinking countdown and Giant Lizard's heart-stopping pulsing cursor; on the right were real-time feeds relayed by drones and satellites, filled with static from interference. Through it, they could vaguely make out the terrifying silhouette moving through the ruins like a moving mountain, along with the faint blue glow that occasionally flickered across its back or shoulders, signaling that its Particle Beam Weapon was charging.
"Deep Hammer I, orders received! Confirming highest priority evasion! Confirming core mission: ensure one MOP strikes the Core Area! Entering attack route!"
"Deep Hammer II, acknowledged! Evasion procedures standing by! Target lock in progress!"
The pilots' voices came over the comms, their tension