"I hope you keep your word." After another moment of silence, the voice on the other end hung up with a heavy sigh.
Pierce could faintly hear roars coming from the phone, signaling that the other party was initiating Plan B. Looking at Makiya through the surveillance monitors, he sneered inwardly. 'I hope you enjoy the grand gift I've prepared for you.'
Boom!
A violent tremor shook the entire building. Static flickered across the surveillance screens. Pierce grabbed the edge of the Director's desk to steady himself. As soon as the shaking stopped, he bolted toward the emergency evacuation tunnel.
That path led directly to the underground hangar, where the Helicarriers were undergoing their final pre-flight preparations.
Inside the Triskelion, Makiya strolled through the hallways with leisurely steps. One by one, Hydra agents collapsed around him, leaving the corridors behind him stained with blood.
"Hmm, what's that?"
Makiya suddenly noticed several black dots appearing on the distant horizon. Brilliant flashes of fire erupted, trailing long white plumes through the clouds.
Missiles!
Simultaneously, a deafening engine roar filled the air. Quinjets launched from the newly opened hangars, soaring into the blue sky under the immense thrust of their engines, circling beneath the midday sun.
The Quinjets were sleek and futuristic, their lines carved as if by the wind itself. From their sharp noses to their slightly upturned tails, they exuded an aesthetic of extreme speed and power. Their high-strength alloy hulls shimmered with a cold metallic luster under the sunlight, like a layer of indestructible armor.
S.H.I.E.L.D. possessed various types of Quinjets, but those taking off now were combat models outfitted with heavy weaponry. Their attributes were fully invested in firepower, their interiors packed with ammunition.
"Look! It's our fighters! So cool!" On a news helicopter, a daring female reporter pointed at the circling Quinjets and screamed, her excitement transmitted through the camera to everyone watching the news.
The helicopter pilot was drenched in sweat, feeling as though he might crash at any moment. The control stick in his hand vibrated incessantly; the turbulence generated by the swarming Quinjets made the helicopter extremely unstable and difficult to maneuver.
"Target is on the third floor. I have a lock." The pilot of a Quinjet flipped the fire-control switch. The auxiliary aiming system accurately captured Makiya's position in the hallway, even providing a zoomed-in image of the figure for the pilot.
Less than two seconds after the report, a superior's voice barked through the headset: "Attack immediately!"
The pilot hesitated for a moment. "But sir, there are still our own people in the building..."
"I said attack immediately! Do I have to say it three times? Full firepower, now!" the commander roared.
"Yes, sir!"
Receiving their orders, all the Quinjets instantly unleashed their fury upon Makiya. Cannons on both sides of the fuselages spat fire, raining down a dense hail of shells. Each round carried immense kinetic energy, instantly shredding the building's exterior walls into flying brick and stone.
A total of eight Quinjets had launched in the emergency scramble, with more slowly rising from the hangars. The Quinjets, capable of hovering, formed small squads that circled the Triskelion. Tongues of fire erupted from their muzzles, weaving into a lethal metal storm that ravaged the interior of the building.
Dust and debris filled the air, obscuring the situation inside. Even with advanced sensors, it was difficult to see through the thick smoke. The thermal imaging was a blur—hardly surprising, considering the building was filled with friendly forces who had been reduced to pulp against the walls, creating heat sources everywhere.
The pilots strictly followed their leader's command, and the assault did not stop. Missiles streaked from the wings with long trails of flame and deafening roars, flying straight into the building before the eyes of the tense audience.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
A series of explosions tore through the building, the impact creating massive shockwaves. The glass curtain walls were blown to bits, transforming into countless crystalline shards that rained down like a dangerous storm. Flames and thick smoke quickly spread from the impact points, consuming everything flammable.
Another wave of attacks followed. Tomahawk missiles, launched from an unknown location, descended from the sky and accurately struck the Triskelion. The resulting blinding light and heat reduced visibility to nearly zero. The hardened special alloy walls were blown open, leaving massive gaps as rubble and wreckage scattered everywhere.
Unnoticed by most, a large military force had arrived on both sides of the island where S.H.I.E.L.D. was located. Armored vehicles, tanks, and command trucks moved into deployment positions one by one. American soldiers stood ready with their rifles.
"Tsk, what is the military doing here?" a Hydra pilot muttered over the comms to his companions.
"Probably here to steal the credit."
"Do we have people inside the military?"
"Shut up!" Pierce's voice cut in. He warned all the pilots once more: "Check the target's status. If there are any life signs, you shouldn't need me to tell you what to do."
"Boss, nobody can survive cannons and missiles. That freak is definitely history," one pilot joked, though he didn't slow down, steadily maneuvering his aircraft closer to the building.
Orders were orders, regardless of the banter.
The Triskelion's automatic fire suppression system was still stubbornly functional. Massive amounts of water sprayed from twisted pipes, gradually clearing the smoke to reveal the ruined interior.
In the center of the devastated floor, Makiya sat completely unscathed on an ergonomic gaming chair with his legs crossed. Not even his hairstyle had changed. He had even managed to protect a coffee machine during the explosions and was now holding a disposable cup of fragrant coffee, raising it toward the fighter jets in a mock toast.
The pilots' pupils dilated in shock, their expressions as if they had seen a ghost. They frantically pulled back on their control sticks to gain altitude.
"Damn it! He's still alive!"
"He's not just alive, he looks completely unharmed! Pull up! Get some distance before we attack again!"
"Fuck! That coffee machine isn't even plugged in! How the hell did he make that thing work?"
"Forget about the damn coffee machine! Look out!!!"
Boom!
A ten-meter-long golden flaming sword appeared in the sky like a god-slaying blade descended from the heavens, radiating intense heat and blinding light. The blade swept through the air in a perfect arc, ruthlessly slicing through the middle of a Quinjet.
The special alloy provided no protection whatsoever. The cool, sleek hull was instantly pierced by the flaming blade. The high temperature triggered a chain reaction within the fuselage, and a violent explosion occurred in a split second. The fighter jet disintegrated, transforming into countless burning fragments that scattered like falling petals.
"Damn it, pull up! Pull up now!" The other pilots watched with wide-eyed terror, fearing they would be next. They knew all too well where their priorities lay when comparing their monthly salary to their lives.
This wasn't a standard battlefield. On a normal battlefield, a pilot had a high chance of survival after ejecting. This was different. The enemy was decisive and ruthless; if they were struck by that terrifying flame sword, there was no hope of survival.
But Makiya gave them no chance to accelerate. Dozens of flaming swords filled the sky, slashing, hacking, and thrusting as if wielded by an invisible giant.
Every strike was precise and lethal. One Quinjet after another was struck by the rampaging flaming blades. Deafening explosions echoed through the sky, filled with fire and falling wreckage.
Makiya slowly floated out from the building. Though he had no wings and nothing beneath his feet, he hovered in the air as if the sky itself were his domain.
Flaming swords rained down from the blue sky, and trailing behind the golden fire were the charred remains of aircraft billowing black smoke.
S.H.I.E.L.D.'s airborne Quinjets were wiped out in an instant. Makiya stood silently in the sky baptized by battle. Though he made no move, he exuded an aura of invincible power.
The news helicopter fell silent, and even the viewers in front of their televisions were collectively speechless. For the first time, human technology had been utterly defeated by individual might, and the scene was being broadcast into thousands of homes.
Just then, a Helicarrier was finally ready. A massive gap opened in the ground beside the Triskelion, revealing the intricate facilities and the enormous hangar below.
Vroom!
The four massive turbofans on the sides of the Helicarrier completed their startup, sending high-speed jets of air downward. The towering hull gleamed with a cold, hard metallic luster, a perfect fusion of human technology and industrial power.
The Helicarrier was like a long-slumbering iron beast awakened by fuel and energy. The roar of its engines was like the beast's first growl upon waking, vibrating the air and causing the ground to tremble.
The massive hull was covered in turrets of all sizes and missile silos. Rows of rectangular barrels glowed with blue light, looking incredibly high-tech. As the crown jewel of human technology, anyone who saw the Helicarrier would be awed by its presence.
The reporters and the television audience were no exception. They stood and cheered, celebrating that such technology was in the hands of civilization. This time, they believed, the murderer floating in the sky stood no chance of survival.
In a certain base in Washington D.C., Nick Fury, who had just escaped through a secret tunnel, stared at the television screen. His face was as dark as could be, making his white teeth stand out even more.
He had only just survived an assassination attempt, yet the secret organization within S.H.I.E.L.D. had already seized control of the personnel and could even deploy the Helicarriers. The depth of the enemy's infiltration was truly staggering.
He felt as though no one around him could be trusted. Looking at Makiya on the screen, Fury sighed deeply. Against a Helicarrier armed to the teeth, he didn't believe the man had any chance of survival. It was a true waste.
Fearing the secret of transcending to the superhuman realm would fall into enemy hands, Fury began to wrack his brain for a strategy, hesitating whether to call his old friend back from the stars. If it were her, she could likely stabilize the entire situation.
At that moment, Makiya moved on the screen!
Floating in the air, Makiya raised his right hand. Boundless golden flames erupted from his palm, the intense heat waves triggering alarms on the distant helicopter once more. A sea of golden fire boiled in the sky, like a tsunami covering the horizon.
A golden blade slowly emerged from the sea of fire. A massive golden flame sword, three hundred meters long, appeared before the eyes of the world, hanging like the Sword of Damocles over all living things, ready to deliver a world-ending judgment.
A deathly silence fell over the newly launched Helicarrier. The crew members on deck stared up with wide eyes and open mouths, their tools and weapons slipping from their hands as they stood frozen like statues.
"Oh... we're finished."
Inside the hangar, the command center of another Helicarrier was silent. The large screens displayed the real-time broadcast of the outside world. The massive Helicarrier that had just taken off was indeed majestic, but the flaming sword directly above it was no less impressive—and far more terrifying.
As Makiya slowly lowered his right hand, beneath the terrified gazes of countless people, the incredibly dense flaming sword descended like a divine judgment.