"Full suppression."
The order came out clear, loud enough to cut through the noise inside the helicopter.
The gunner did not answer. He did not need to. His hands were already locked on the weapon, finger tight on the trigger as the M134 minigun spun up into a high-pitched scream. The barrels blurred as they reached full speed, and in the next second, a solid stream of rounds poured downward like a metal waterfall.
The entire side of the helicopter vibrated with the force. It was not a sharp recoil like a rifle. It was constant, heavy, like the machine itself was alive and pushing back.
Below them, the tree monster took the hit.
Rounds slammed into its upper body without pause. Bark exploded outward in chunks, splinters flew in all directions, and deep holes punched into its surface. Pieces of it broke apart violently, raining down through the forest canopy.
But it did not fall.
It did not even slow down.
Instead, it moved.
