Inside the ruins, blood seeped from cracks in the rubble. Any staff who hadn't evacuated and the remaining soldiers outside were buried alive beneath the collapsed structure. Zack hovered in the sky, surveying the destruction with a calm expression. "Air superiority—it's a beautiful thing," he muttered, glancing at the smoldering ruins below.
"Ego, scan for survivors," he commanded, his tone sharp. His AI responded instantly, activating the suit's sensors to sweep the area. The battle wasn't over until he was certain every threat was eliminated.
"Sir, an underground structure has been detected," Ego reported crisply. "It seems the building also has a hidden base, likely housing their command personnel."
Zack frowned as he processed the information. "An underground base..." he muttered. He didn't have ground-penetrating missiles, and conventional explosives wouldn't do much against a bunker buried that deep. Close combat might be the only option—but that came with its own risks.
As he deliberated, Ego's voice broke through his thoughts. "Sir, two fighter jets are approaching NYC City!"
"Fighter jets?" Zack's brow furrowed. "The Vanguard Organization," he muttered under his breath. Their retaliation was faster than expected. The commander he'd interrogated earlier had confirmed that the Black Hand base was merely a branch of the larger Vanguard Organization, whose main headquarters were located overseas.
"Are they from the Vanguard?" he asked quickly.
"No, sir. Based on satellite data, the two jets took off from Southeast Asia. They're F-15 models," Ego clarified.
"F-15?" Zack's irritation flared. "Wait a second… It's those two idiots, isn't it?" His expression darkened. "I've left them alone, and now they've got the nerve to come after me?"
The timing couldn't have been worse. As he stewed in frustration, a deafening sonic boom echoed across the city. Zack glanced upward, his lips curling into a cold grin. "Perfect timing."
"I've arrived," came a sharp, steady voice over the comms. It was Ava, piloting a Avalon. The sonic boom had been her arrival over Newark City.
"Look below. See those ruins?" Zack gestured toward the destroyed Black Hand building. "That's our target."
"Understood," Ava replied as she slowed her flight, her eagle-sharp gaze locking onto the ruins below.
"Drop a magnetic fluid cloud bomb on it," Zack commanded, his voice calm but deadly.
"Yes, sir." Ava didn't question him. She pulled the Avalon into a dive, and when she reached the ruins, she pressed the release button. The bomb bay doors opened with a mechanical hiss, releasing a 600-kilogram magnetic fluid cloud bomb.
The bomb deployed mid-air, exploding into a spray of magnetic spheres and high-energy incendiary agents. Because of the calculated drop altitude, the incendiary agent spread over a contained radius, blanketing several city blocks, including the ruins.
The orange-hued incendiary cloud descended like a toxic mist, its glow ominous against the skyline. Under the influence of the bomb's magnetic field, the fiery agent clung to every surface it touched. Zack had already boosted himself out of the blast radius before the bomb's payload fully dispersed.
Underground, the commanders of the base stared at the surveillance feed, their faces pale as the glowing orange mist covered the ruins above them. "What is that?" one of them whispered, panic creeping into his voice.
"Relax. We're ten meters underground. No surface weapon can harm us," the base leader snapped, though his tone betrayed unease. But their confidence wavered when the screen suddenly went dark, the masked face that had been monitoring them disappearing without a word. "Master Black Hand, what's going on?" one of the officers stammered, but there was no response—only silence.
The light orange incendiary cloud finally touched the ground. A tiny electric spark ignited it.
BOOM—!! A fiery mushroom cloud erupted into the sky, consuming several city blocks in an instant. The blast wave shattered windows miles away, and the extreme heat ignited every flammable surface. Even fireproof layers on buildings melted, fueling the inferno.
"Evacuate immediately!" Zack barked into the comms, ensuring Ava ascended beyond the reach of the shockwave in time.
On the ground, the scene was apocalyptic. The flames sucked the oxygen from the surrounding area, suffocating everything within kilometers. Zombies caught in the blast zone convulsed violently, their eyeballs bursting from their sockets, internal organs rupturing under the sheer pressure.
At the epicenter, the ruins of the building disintegrated. The intense heat melted bricks and steel, reducing them to molten streams of lava-like slurry that flowed downward, seeping into the underground base.
Inside the base, chaos reigned. The molten liquid burned through protective pipes, dripping into the command room. The commanders didn't even have time to scream as the unbearable heat and crushing pressure caused their bodies to implode. Their eyes bulged, and their organs were crushed outward by the overwhelming internal and external forces. The grotesque carnage mirrored the fate of the zombies outside.
Above ground, the firestorm raged, its flames spreading rapidly across half of Newark City, reducing it to a blazing wasteland.
"Let's move," Zack said coldly, his expression blank as he observed the devastation. He felt no remorse; the moment the Black Hand and their allies had chosen to oppose him, their fates were sealed.
"Understood…" Ava's voice trembled slightly, the sight of the destruction unnerving her.
As Zack and Ava retreated from the area, the two F-15 fighter jets finally approached NYC City. "Chief, we've reached the city," one of the pilots reported.
The pilot's voice crackled over the channel, breaking the brief silence that followed his initial transmission. It took a full three or four seconds before Jock responded, his voice delayed and distorted—a clear indicator of their outdated satellite technology. Their communication relied on a general-purpose satellite rather than one specialized for such operations, resulting in unstable signals and noticeable lag during long-distance exchanges.
"I see something..." the pilot muttered, squinting as his aircraft descended over NYC City. His naked eye scanned the scene below. Their satellite imagery was too crude, providing only vague outlines of the ground. It was incapable of detecting specific details like Zack's armor—his humanoid aircraft, which stood only two to three meters tall, went entirely unnoticed.
"Chief, chief! I'm seeing lots of small, robot-like things!" the pilot exclaimed, his voice rising with a mix of awe and confusion. Descending lower, the two pilots could make out scenes in the streets and alleys: mechanical beasts sweeping through hordes of zombies. The eerie efficiency of the machines stood out.
"Robots?" Jock's voice came back, skeptical but curious. "Describe what you see!"
A few seconds passed before the pilot responded. "They're not humanoid. Some look like spiders; others resemble dogs. They're attacking the zombies—there's a lot of them. At least a hundred, maybe more."
As the pilots surveyed the area, their eyes caught sight of a cluster of survivors. "Chief, I've found something—a small base in an industrial park. From my observation, there shouldn't be more than 200 survivors."
The roar of two F-15 fighter jets thundered through the air, drawing the attention of those working within the steel mill below. Survivors paused their work, gazing up at the sky in apprehension.
"It seems this little group has some impressive tech," Jock remarked, his tone shifting to one of greedy interest. He snapped an order: "Quick, broadcast a message. Let's tell them why we're here."