NOVEL NEXT Chapter 137: Fiery Explosion
One unfortunate Lord caught a depleted uranium round straight on. The entry wound was the size of a fist. The exit wound? As large as a basin. The intense heat of the impact—over 6,000°C—charred the edges of the wound instantly, leaving no blood to spill. As Ava's fighter swooped back up, two more jets flew over the battlefield. Each carried a massive, square payload suspended by steel cables.
Boom! Boom!
The moment the jets reached the center of the battlefield, the cables released. The heavy objects crashed to the ground with thunderous force, shaking the earth. Soldiers on the wall felt the vibrations beneath their feet.
Ka-ka-ka-ka…
Mechanical whirring followed as the massive objects unfolded. The soldiers watched, stunned, as two towering machines, each eight meters tall, rose from the ground. The sheer size of these Goliath rivaled the height of the defensive wall itself. From their vantage point, the soldiers could see the back of the Goliath' heads—or rather, the missile launchers mounted there. "What… what are those?" Scott stammered, his voice barely audible over the chaos. He could no longer make sense of the battlefield. It wasn't his to control anymore.
The tide of battle had shifted entirely, taken over by a new force. Minutes earlier… Before the arrival of the mechanical army, Scott and his forces were locked in a desperate struggle against the horde. Meanwhile, within the Base, a bloody massacre was unfolding. Kane's mutant thugs, aiming to secure his escape, slaughtered soldiers and survivors with cruel efficiency. The once-secure airport was now a scene of carnage. Blood painted the tarmac, and bodies were strewn across the runway.
Kane's men worked quickly, dragging the corpses aside to clear the path. "Move it! Get those bodies out of the way!" Kane barked, his eyes darting nervously toward the distant sound of gunfire. Nearby, a group of terrified women in flight attendant uniforms huddled together, their eyes filled with despair. They were Cheng's bargaining chips—his "currency" for survival. "Get those women on the plane, now!" he shouted. In the distance, the hum of engines grew louder.
Boom! Boom!
The sonic booms of approaching jets echoed above, drawing Kane's gaze upward. He watched as the aircraft flew toward the frontlines. "They're from NYC City," he muttered, recognizing the sleek designs. "Idiots. They're flying straight to their deaths." He snorted and turned back to his men. "Hurry up! Clear the runway! We're leaving!"
One jet, however, broke formation. Slowing as it neared the base, its cabin door opened mid-air. A figure leapt out, twisting through the air before vanishing into thin air.
Back at the airport, Kane's men finally cleared the runway, dragging the bodies into haphazard piles like discarded trash. "Boss! The runway's clear!" one of them called out.
"Good! Let's move!" Kane barked, relief flickering across his face.
But as his thugs began herding the women toward the plane, chaos erupted again. "Boss! These women are refusing to board!"
"What?" Kane spun around, his face twisting in fury. "What the hell are they doing?!" Before he could storm over, a faint thud echoed from the runway. The runway seemed empty. Yet, a faint depression appeared in the ground, as if something heavy had just landed.
"What's going on?" one of Kane's men asked nervously.
"Let's check it out," another said, summoning courage as they cautiously moved toward the mysterious dent.
Before they could reach it, a strange breeze brushed past their faces. "Did you see—" one began, but his voice caught in his throat. A chill crept along his neck.
The world spun around him, and as his vision blurred, he caught a glimpse of his own headless body crumpling to the ground. One by one, the others fell in the same eerie manner. A fleeting breeze, carrying a faint, sweet fragrance, swept through the runway, leaving a trail of headless bodies in its wake.
Death came so quickly that none of them even realized what had happened. "Enemy—!" a voice shouted from the hangar, where a mutant had spotted the carnage. But the fragrant breeze reached him before he could finish. His head separated cleanly from his shoulders, hitting the ground and rolling a few times before coming to a stop.
The warning, incomplete as it was, alerted Kane and his remaining men. "It's a stealth mutant!" shouted Larry, Kane's strongest subordinate, as he sprang into action. Without hesitation, his body burst into flames, the inferno engulfing him like a second skin. His clothes and hair burned away instantly, but Larry stood unharmed, the flames dancing across his body. "I'll flush them out!" he growled, his fiery aura expanding in a massive ring.
The wave of searing heat surged across the area, sparing only the aircraft. Amid the flames, a figure materialized—a lithe and Graceful silhouette outlined by the fire. "It's a woman!" Larry sneered, his expression twisting into a sadistic grin. "Burning her will be much more fun!"
But his grin froze in place. The woman didn't writhe in pain or scream. Instead, she dashed through the flames, unscathed and incredibly fast. "No!" Larry managed to gasp as a faint white blade of light flashed before his eyes. The world spun around him, and his fiery form crumpled. He never stood a chance. "Run! Run now!" Kane screamed, his voice cracking as he bolted toward the plane. His men scrambled after him, but chaos ruled the hangar.
"Start the plane! Go, go, go!" Kane barked as he slammed the cabin door shut behind him. The pilot, terrified by the scene outside, didn't waste time on pre-flight checks. Engines roared to life as the aircraft began to taxi down the runway, accelerating quickly.
"Are we safe?" Kane muttered, his voice trembling as the plane neared takeoff speed. Relief washed over him as he approached a window to look back at the hangar.
Then it happened. A faint white light streaked across the plane. Kane froze, his body stiff as if caught mid-motion. The light sliced cleanly through the aircraft, splitting it—and everyone aboard—into two halves. The plane's inertia carried it forward, the two sections sliding along the runway at over 200 kilometers per hour.
BOOM!
A fiery explosion consumed the wreckage as it collided with the guidance lights at the end of the runway. In the aftermath, standing amidst the smoking debris, a figure emerged. Clad in sleek black-and-white armor, her presence was as chilling as it was commanding. "The target is dead," she reported calmly.