(Today, I'll show off my writing skills, just in case some people keep criticizing my writing for not being good enough.)
[ Krypton Light Assault Boat]
Several dark brown aircraft hovered beside the cliff-like, cloud-shrouded peaks.
The fuselage is streamlined, with no ailerons or nozzles, unlike the commonly used propulsion design.
On either side of the fuselage, only two thin, cicada-wing-like gliders are slightly folded in.
A faint, dark light flowed silently along the dark blue-green edge of the board.
At Mach 14, they crashed into the atmosphere ten thousand meters deep like a fleeting shadow.
Immediately afterwards, it folded out of thin air into a right angle that was almost ninety degrees, hanging precariously before the swirling wind wall.
A close-up shot with deep focus shows it being slowly pushed into the cockpit.
The two Krypton soldiers wore visors and had glaring, unfocused eyes.
Outside the chitinous lattice window, twelve silver-gray fighter jets were rushing towards them.
The hunter still possessed a ferocious, carnivorous nature, but these two had nothing in their eyes.
It was like the Cavalry cavalry galloping across a long road.
Moths occasionally fluttered by his hooves, but he only glanced at them with his eyes down before urging his horse to gallop past.
Ants... Ignored.
"Launch! Fire all external hardpoints!!"
Hall Hall's roar came through the encrypted frequency band in the earpiece.
At a single command!
The bomb bays of all twelve Raptor were opened simultaneously.
Twenty-four beyond-visual-range kinetic air-to-air missiles derailed and ignited!
The tail flames scorched through the frozen clouds, trailing and cascading!
Before long, a dense, impenetrable net of bullets appeared against the leaden sky.
A slight judder in the slow motion frame--
With a slight tremor, the glider released a ring of gravity lenses, heavy as mercury, that slowly pushed apart from the hull.
Just as those projectiles pierced the force field!
The Negasonic Teenage Warhead pin, inertial ball bearings, and piezoelectric ceramic crystal are located inside the warhead fuse.
Under the terrifying gravitational pull, it was compressed into a flat piece of iron in an instant.
"Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!"
A series of dull, muffled thuds exploded in mid-air.
The multi-million dollar Negasonic Teenage Warhead seemed to have struck an invisible wall, instantly turning into clusters of fireballs that remained suspended in the air.
Shrapnel rained down, scattering in all directions. Before the flames could dissipate, the nose of the plane had already tilted downwards.
The next second, two beams of dark light, each as thick as an arm, silently shot out from the belly of the Krypton machine.
Under the lens of a microscope.
Within the dim light, a shrunken gravitational vortex was swirling and churning.
"Shuashua--"
The beam of light sliced across, striking two of the squadron's wingmen.
moment!
The crystal lattice disintegrated violently under the chaotic gravity, the bonds broke, and it collapsed like a sand tower.
Immediately afterwards, a violent crushing force seemed to strike.
The two fuselages collapsed rapidly toward the core, shrinking in the blink of an eye into two chaotic clumps of iron.
A sudden gust of wind, tens of thousands of meters high, swept through the sky, scattering it into a shower of silver dust that drifted and disappeared into the sea of clouds.
All of this happened too fast.
The people in the cabin didn't even have time to scream; their flesh and bones were crushed into a pool of blood and mud by the high pressure of gravity.
"Unit 3 is destroyed! Unit 4... God, Unit 4 didn't even leave any wreckage!!"
The radio channels were filled with screams.
"Give me... pull!!"
Hall pulled the joystick to its limit.
Suddenly, the extreme overload of nine Gs pressed him firmly into the chair, and all the blood in his body rushed to his feet.
Under hypoxia, the edges of my vision began to darken.
"Whoosh--"
Release the joystick.
The fighter jet barely managed to complete a barrel roll, and two infrared decoy flares exploded behind it, disappearing in an instant like fireworks.
But this is only the beginning.
The ferocious creature remained motionless, still gripping his six o'clock position with unwavering resolve, as if possessed by a ghost.
I can't shake it off.
The beams of light beneath the assault boat converged once more.
As the energy dissipated, the dashboard inside the cockpit began to flash bright red warning lights.
The readings and indices surged wildly.
There's no escaping it...
Colonel Hall's hands trembled violently beneath his gloves, and his hot, heavy breathing filled the entire pressure mask.
Humanity... has spent a whole century to leave only a faint trace of grass in the sky.
From Leonardo da Vinci's sketches, which were merely "conceptual" drafts...
The Wright Brothers ' jolt on Kitty Hawk Dunes.
Galileo pointed his telescope at the stars, and Wernher von Braun used calculus to calculate ballistic trajectories.
Human beings, with their own flesh and blood, have measured the boundaries of the sky generation after generation.
Four centuries.
The wisdom and madness of millions of people have built a Tower of Babel.
But compared to these few small patrol boats, the tower was as fragile as a biscuit.
It shatters at the slightest touch.
The last three seconds.
Under the combined effects of oxygen deficiency and centrifugal force, a series of lanterns began to stack up in an orderly fashion and then emerged.
A rainy night in Virginia, the smell of tobacco.
Seven-year-old Hall Marcus is wrapped in a thick wool blanket.
Running a high fever, she huddled in her grandfather's attic, which reeked of tobacco and oil.
His grandfather served in the French Army when he was young.
However, during the Battle of Verdun, his left leg was blown off by Krupp cannon fired by the Germany.
My grandfather immigrated to the United States after the war and settled in Virginia.
Several years later...
The old man often liked to stroke his empty trouser leg when he was drunk.
Pointing to the yellowed war postcards on the wall, he told his young grandson the legend in an almost dreamlike tone:
" Marcus, don't believe the nonsense in those Department of the Army propaganda posters..."
The old man's ageless fingers trembled as he traced the outline of a blurry photograph.
Several Allied Powers soldiers stood in front of a collapsed bunker, with a no-man's-land shrouded in mustard gas in the background.
And deep within the thick fog, a cloak fluttered faintly amidst the gunfire.
" The Somme River, or Verdun... The Germany heavy artillery plowed through the land for seven days and nights."
The black soil was blasted into scalding slag, and mustard gas flowed along the trench like a shroud.
That was the age of steel and Gunpowder.
The world has been dismantled into a giant slaughterhouse, where everyone huddled in the mud... living like maggots.
"That's when she appeared."
She emerged from the depths of the leaden smoke and fire.
Without a helmet or gas mask, she walked barefoot across the red-hot shrapnel and rusty netting.
The bronze armor reflected the faint light of the setting sun, its movements as swift as a startled falcon darting through a storm.
Prussia's three most elite guard regiments were as fragile as autumn reeds swept by a scythe before her.
Like a clay chicken or a clay dog.
She held a gleaming golden rope in her hand, as a torrent of bullets struck her crisscrossing wrist guards, creating a continuous, clear clatter.
The sound was clear and far-reaching.
Like the bronze bells of a monastery, ringing out the final vespers.
The firewood crackled in the fireplace, its light flickering on the old man's withered face.
Young Marcus held his breath, tightened his grip on his grandfather's calloused hand, and asked softly:
"So... she's an angel, Grandpa?"
The old man did not answer immediately.
The flickering light of remembrance was reflected in his cloudy eyes.
After a long silence, he shook his head.
"Angels dwell high in the clouds, child... the creatures on the stained glass will not soil their wings, nor will they dip their ankles into the blood-soaked mortal world."
The old man then changed the subject.
"But she is... a god."
"It's in this absurd, cruel world, a world even the Creator has abandoned..."
The only god willing to wade into the mire and shed tears for ants.
Marcus originally believed it.
But later, my grandfather died, and my parents were killed in the brutal battles.
But later, Marcus grew up.