73: Death Dive

[Pan-Pacific Empire - "abyssal overlord" - Air Defense Command Center]

"Stop them!"

Nathan Doom's voice echoed through the command center.

The supreme ruler of the Pan-Pacific Empire stood before the holographic projection table, his body trembling slightly with rage.

He wore a set of ornate golden power armor, encrusted with gems and enamel, the family crest on his chest gleaming under the lights.

But at this moment, beneath that magnificent armor was a body soaked in fear.

He couldn't believe what he was seeing.

Three black dots.

Just three black dots had caused the air defense line he took such pride in to collapse.

Forty-seven "Siren" Type IV interceptors, the Pan-Pacific Empire's most advanced atmospheric fighters, were wiped out in less than two minutes.

Not a single one could get within effective firing range.

Not a single one could inflict any substantial damage.

"What about the shields?" Doom's voice turned shrill.

"Where are our void shields?!"

"My Lord..." An operator's voice was trembling.

"The shield energy is overloading. The enemy is continuously using laser weapons during their dive, bombarding the shield generator's location. The energy consumption rate exceeds the recharging speed."

"Then connect all the backup generators!"

"They're already connected, My Lord. All forty-eight backup generators are running at full power. But..."

The operator didn't finish his sentence.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The entire command center shook violently.

On the holographic screen, those three black iron birds were diving at a near-vertical angle.

From beneath their wings, missile pods began to spew fire.

Hellfire missiles detached from their pylons one by one, trailing orange-red smoke as they fell precisely onto the massive air defense turrets on the fortress deck.

Explosion.

Explosion.

Explosion.

The heavy air defense weapons originally meant to protect the fortress had now become the most conspicuous targets.

Turrets deformed, burned, and were paralyzed under the direct hits of the missiles.

Secondary explosions from ammunition cook-offs spread along the fortress's surface, engulfing more defensive facilities in a sea of fire.

"Communication lost with Air Defense Sector 3!"

"Ammunition depot cook-off in Air Defense Sector 7!"

"Shield generator energy is about to be depleted!"

Doom's face turned deathly pale.

He turned and stared fixedly at the communications officer standing in the corner.

"Contact the Deep Sea Guardians units," his voice was hoarse.

"Tell them that no matter the cost, they must hold the landing point after the shields fail."

"My Lord..." The communications officer hesitated.

"We still have the 'Sun Warriors' reserves. Should we consider..."

"No!" Doom interrupted him. "The Sun Warriors are my final trump card.

I will not deploy them until the situation has completely spiraled out of control."

He turned back to the holographic screen.

The three black gunships had completed their dive.

Their belly bomb bays were opening.

Doom saw objects detaching from the bays.

Twelve.

Twelve massive bombs with stabilizing fins were falling toward the shield generator.

"No..."

His lips moved soundlessly... [Cockpit of the "Night Owl"]

N-05's gaze was locked onto the target marked by a red box on the Head-Up Display.

The shield generator.

A massive spherical structure over two hundred meters in diameter, its surface covered in dense cooling pipes and energy conduits.

At this moment, it was running frantically, attempting to replenish energy for the already overloaded void shields.

Blue electric arcs danced across its surface.

But that no longer mattered.

"Bomb bay open," V-07's voice sounded.

N-05's right hand moved to the bomb release controller.

He didn't recite a battle cry.

He didn't shout any slogans.

He simply completed a single action.

He pressed the button.

Twelve melta breach bombs detached from the belly of the "Night Owl."

They deployed their stabilizing fins in mid-air, adjusted their posture, and plummeted toward the target at three hundred meters per second.

Built-in guidance systems constantly corrected their trajectories, ensuring every bomb landed on the most effective strike points.

N-05 pulled back on the control stick, pulling the Thunderhawk out of its dive.

He didn't look back.

He didn't need to.

Three seconds later.

A massive white sphere of light bloomed at the shield generator's location.

The melta bombs' warheads detonated upon impact, releasing temperatures exceeding five thousand degrees.

Metal turned into flowing liquid at such temperatures. Cables turned to ash.

Coolant instantly boiled, evaporated, and vanished.

The shield generator's outer shell was melted through.

The core energy pile was exposed.

And then—

BOOM!!!!

The shockwave from the secondary explosion spread in all directions.

A crack appeared in the pale blue void shield above the fortress.

The crack rapidly expanded and spread, eventually covering the entire shield surface.

The blue light curtain flickered twice, then collapsed into countless dissipating points of light, scattered by the sea breeze.

"Shields... down," N-05 reported over the channel.

His voice remained calm.

"Mission accomplished. Returning to standby."

...[Holographic Operations Cabin]

Li Cang watched the images on the screen.

The sea fortress that was once impregnable was now burning.

Most of its air defense fire had been suppressed, and its shields had completely failed.

It was like a crab with its shell peeled off, exposing its soft internal organs.

He picked up the cup on the table and took a sip of the liquid inside.

It wasn't coffee. It was concentrated nutrient solution.

The taste was hard to describe, but it could maintain the energy he needed for high-intensity work.

His gaze fell on the GP counter in the corner of the screen.

[Current GP: 127]

Less than half an hour of combat time remained before it hit zero.

He had to end this battle before his GP was exhausted.

"C-19." He opened the communication channel with the ground forces.

"Shields cleared. Commencing Stage Two."

A steady voice came through the channel.

"Copy that."

...[Pacific Ocean Surface - Thunderhawk Deployment Point]

C-19 stood at the bay door of the "Night Crow" Thunderhawk Gunship.

Beneath his feet was the surging black sea.

Thirty meters away, the side deck of the "abyssal overlord" fortress was slowly approaching.

The Thunderhawk pilot was making final docking adjustments, lowering the gunship's altitude to within jumping range.

"All units, check equipment," C-19's voice rang out on the tactical channel.

Thirty-one Astartes simultaneously lowered their heads to check their weapons and ammunition.

Bolters: magazine inserted, safety off.

Chainswords: Fuel topped off, teeth preheated.

Grenades.

Four frag, two smoke, clipped to their belts.

"Equipment confirmed," the reports came one after another.

C-19 nodded.

He turned to look at the burning fortress.

The air defense fire had thinned out significantly.

Most turrets were either destroyed by missiles or had lost power due to the shield generator's secondary explosion.

The remaining few were still firing stubbornly, but their trajectories could no longer threaten the Thunderhawk flight hovering at low altitude.

"Target: Fortress Command Tower," C-19 said.

"Nathan Doom is right there."

"Capture or kill?" a voice came from behind.

It was N-05. He had just finished the bombing mission, parked the "Night Owl" on the carrier, and then taken another Thunderhawk to join the ground assault.

"The Commander's order is to capture him alive," C-19 replied.

"But if he refuses to surrender, that's another matter."

He took a step forward, standing on the edge of the bay door.

Thirty meters below was the fortress deck.

"Jump."

He leaped out.

Wind whistled past his ears.

Thirty-one black figures followed close behind, pouring out of the bay doors of the six Thunderhawks and plummeting toward the steel fortress...