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However, at that very moment, an ominous premonition arose in front of the control panel in the command center.
"Lieutenant Colonel Groen! Emergency report from the east of the city!" the communications officer shouted.
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The screen in front of me flickered and then showed the faces of two soldiers holding battlefield cameras.
"What's going on?" the lieutenant colonel asked.
"Reporting to command center!" The soldier's voice trembled. "Look ahead! The sky ahead!"
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Dense, dozens or even hundreds of black dots are growing larger and larger from all directions in the sky!
"What should we do?!"
"Take cover! Immediately!" The lieutenant colonel abandoned his work with the communications officer. "Go and tell General Marendor right now!"
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Chapter 54, Section 89: The Crimson Meteor Shower
A group of Soviet soldiers were bustling around the street. The T-34 tank parked on the road had just started its engine with the sound of the hatch closing, emitting a rough, black diesel smell.
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Several comrades lined up—in front of them was a small bucket filled with clean water. They put their hands into the water, scooped up a ladleful, and then decisively splashed it on their faces, rubbing it back and forth a few times, and that was it, they had washed their faces.
Lieutenant Lemilia stood at the other end of the bucket, quietly waiting for the soldiers to finish before going over to bury his head, tidying up his still slightly alcohol-smelling face, and then putting it in his mouth, gulping it out to the side.
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Unfortunately, that's how Berlin was after World War II. Running water was nonexistent. You either had to go to the rear to get it, or draw water from nearby wells that hadn't yet dried up.
"Alright! Comrades! Get back to your posts!" Lemilia shouted, rallying the crowd. Then he grabbed the middle of his clothes and wiped the water droplets from his face.
Just as he was about to go upstairs, a major, accompanied by several soldiers, approached, carrying a megaphone and a stack of papers. Lemilia knew very well what this comrade was going to do.
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Lemilia glanced at his pocket watch; there were less than fifteen minutes left before the attack.
Well, as for why such a luxury item as a pocket watch ended up in the hands of an ordinary Soviet lieutenant, there's no need to explain further.
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Behind us, the familiar roar of engines filled the sky above us—we've finally arrived!
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As the sky outside Berlin gradually turned white, black crosses appeared in the rising sun. Each Soviet fighter plane, bearing its own red five-pointed star, drew the shimmering red night sky into the dawn of Germany.
That's right! Everything is about to begin!
At that moment, the lead Il-2 attack aircraft, accompanied by several fighter jets, were about to fly over the building where Lemilia was located.
"Go! Comrade 'Flying Tank'! Crush the enemy to pieces! Hurrah!—"
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"Hey! What's going on here?!"
At the same moment, General Marendor was watching as the mechs and attack helicopters slowly moved away from their original operational range and began to line up over the Brandenburg Gate—without him giving any orders.
"General!" An officer ran up, panting. "Intelligence from the front lines indicates that a large Soviet air force is attacking the city center!"
"So fast?" Marendor's face was filled with disbelief. "Quickly tell Area 11! Close the main portal!"
"Already doing it!"
"This guy's really good at managing things." The major general's words seemed to carry a deeper meaning. "He also gave the order to deploy the air force?"
“Yes.” Just then, several pairs of KMF grappling hooks flew up from under the roof of the Capitol Building and bit into the stone ground not far away. Several purple Gloucesters carrying machine guns climbed up the outer wall of the Capitol Building, seemingly unconcerned about the general’s presence.
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"Sir, you should get out of the way and take shelter from the air raid," a guard advised. "Area 11 already knows we're in trouble..."
"What did you say!" Marendor's eyes widened. "You mean, Eddie Hill directly contacted Area 11 and said we were attacked?"
"Ah...ah, that's right."
"Damn it! You've ruined the stage I've set up!" Marendo stomped his foot on the ground. "I'm not going down until the portal closes successfully! Understand?! Nobody's allowed to try to stop me!"
"Ah...yes..."
"I hope you can smooth things over for me, Kari."
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"Everyone! Form the Crescent Moon Formation! Prepare to counter the incoming enemy aircraft!"
Above the Brandenburg Gate, swarms of KMF aircraft have formed a sky defense line of steel giants, ready to annihilate any enemy that attempts to advance into the firepower net.
The previous overwhelming artillery bombardment had ceased, and the earth and air had returned to calm. Now, only the command center's announcement of "Enemy aircraft attack" remained, allowing everyone to quietly await the start of the battle in their floating system containers.
Suddenly, without warning, a green figure roared from the dust cloud rising above the city center, its propeller engines blazing, and shot out like an arrow. Soon, a second, a third, a dozen, dozens of fighter jets followed!
The appearance of the mechs seemed to have caught the geese somewhat off guard. The previously scattered squadrons, flying in different directions, suddenly began changing course one after another, turning at different altitudes and angles towards the formation's location.
The sun was slowly rising, its faint rays striking the machine guns and recoilless rifles in the hands of the KMF fighters, and also the hundreds of warplanes in the sky. Pairs of green wings, each bearing a crimson five-pointed star, charged towards every ready-to-fire muzzle amidst the overwhelming roar of their propellers!
"Fire!—"
Almost simultaneously, thousands of machine gun muzzles from mechs and cannons from fighter jets were filled with dazzling tongues of fire, instantly transforming the sky above the Brandenburg Gate into a storm of metal bullets. Swarms of tracer rounds streaked through the air, ripping apart the tranquil atmosphere and tearing apart the still-dark dawn.
In less than five seconds—a mere instant before you could even blink—the first dozen or so KMF pilots and Soviet pilots, along with their aircraft, perished in a rain of fire. Sparks flew from the joints, shards of glass flew in all directions, and burning fragments of wings, like a box of sand thrown into the air, trailing long plumes of black smoke, crashed down with a devastating blow from the sky beside the infantrymen still rushing about on the ground.
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Unlike the silently stationary mechs and helicopters, the Soviet warplanes, swarming across the sky, showed no sign of slowing down! The lead planes swooped down from high altitude, instantly penetrating the gaps between the formation members. Schwaker cannons, their propellers whirring, whipped up countless golden steel blades. The KMFs and helicopters, still focused on firing, saw only a streak of flame flash past, like the cruel scythe of death slicing through steel armor, leaving them exploding in mid-air into sparks-filled chrysanthemums.
This was just the beginning! More and more fighter jets tore apart the leading mechs and helicopters, creating a huge gap in the first row of the formation. One after another, agile cross-shaped figures darted into front of the panicked "Sky Warriors," using the fierce onslaught of machine guns to crush all the inflexible and fearless warriors.
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Within the KMF, some were still firing frantically in all directions, but others seemed unwilling to endure this foolish tactic any longer—akin to using a phalanx of short-sworded infantry to defend against heavily armored cavalry. They simply left their current location and launched a counterattack directly into the fighter group.
They wandered aimlessly around the Soviet warplanes that flew past them, letting bullets and debris from machine gun fire rain down from all sides. Some, however, were determined to die and drove at full speed to block the planes' path, exploding into a pile of brilliant fireworks.
The sky is so vast that it can no longer contain the silver-white shells of these helicopters and the robust bodies of these aircraft mechs!
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Mullen was still standing on the roof of the Capitol, completely bewildered, never imagining that what he could rely on to fight against the fighter jets would be so pale and powerless!
I don’t know if the general understands that once air combat falls into a low-speed or even stationary state, it is pointless to be slaughtered, but he is at least very clear now. Looking at the fragments and sparks falling all over the sky, he must move now and leave this rooftop!
"General, let's go! Let's go!" the guards urged as they slowly approached the general, trying to pull him up by the arm.
"Wait! You idiot!" Marendor suddenly raised his arm and pushed away the soldier who was about to grab his arm. It seemed that there was something else that the general cared about more than his own life.
He didn't want to leave yet. The main portal not far from the Capitol was still lit up, and the general seemed unwilling to move an inch until it closed.
The formation in the sky eventually broke apart like a wooden fence crushed by tanks, and everyone had no choice but to fight individually with their respective squadrons, engaging in fierce dogfights with the fighter jets in the sky.
It was at this moment that the guards spotted a series of figures that were different from the fighter jets—wings that were half the length of the aircraft, a more stable and slower flight path, and flying at low and very low altitudes, almost alongside the buildings.
That was the Il-2 attack aircraft. Without interference from enemy air forces, it meant they could slaughter the land.
Those larger and heavier figures began to line up in groups of four in a straight line, rushing towards the earth, mercilessly delivering explosions and bloodshed to every life and every barracks.
Just then, following the cracking sound of Gloucester's joints twisting, Marendo turned around sharply and realized that four menacing fighter jets were now eyeing everything on the rooftop, including him.
"General, be careful!"
The guards hurriedly pulled the major general behind a wall, but the dutiful KMFs showed no sign of leaving! Now, four planes, each equipped with two 23mm cannons, two 7.62mm machine guns, plus eight rockets and four bombs under their wings, unleashed a terrifying barrage of firepower, like four giant brushes dipped in flames, showering the Capitol with explosions capable of annihilating any living being.
In an instant, all that could be heard was the snapping of metal joints and the whispering of electric sparks like crickets, all powerless to continue amidst the rising and falling explosions.
Smoke and heat swept across the brickwork of the Capitol before Marendor and the guards peered out from behind the distant wall. Perhaps it was luck; the rockets and bombs landed too precisely around Gloucester, leaving the general unharmed except for a bit of dust and dirt.
He stared in disbelief at the mechanical limbs that lay scattered haphazardly across the rooftop—flames clung to them like a pack of hyenas, tearing at their metal bodies with crackling sounds.
Are the green eagles in the sky still hunting frantically, determined to hold out here?
No need. The Gate of Camelot, woven from golden light, has faded completely.
"Let's go... let's go down..."
Chapter 55, Section 90: The Curtain Has Been Raised
"The barrage in the northern part of the camp is too thin! What's going on with the N2 and N3 turrets?!"
"Reporting, Colonel! Both turrets appear to have been damaged in the air raid and are now unusable!"
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"Quickly send the logistics soldiers to repair it!"
The general hadn't returned yet, so Eddie Hill and several other officers had to help process all the battle reports received from the command center. The lieutenant colonel was on the verge of completely losing control of the air combat operation.
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"Hey! You guys!" At this moment, the general's loud voice came from the entrance of the hall, and several officers saluted nervously—one of them even used his left hand to salute.
Only Eddie Hill and a few officers remained, heads down, busy with their current tasks.
"Gron!" the major general shouted. The lieutenant colonel calmly finished speaking to another officer before finally addressing the major general.
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"Tell me, what's going on with this mess in the sky!"
"Reporting to the General, Lieutenant Colonel Li Ens, the commander of the air brigade, stated that the Soviet warplanes are simply 'harvesting wheat'..."
"What the hell! So many KMFs and helicopters, so much machine gun fire, and we still can't stop these bird-shaped toys with electric fans on their heads, which should have been sent back to the museum long ago!"
“No, no, no, no…” Eddie Hill shook his head repeatedly. “The lieutenant colonel said the firepower was more than enough, but the problem is that the formation didn’t do much. The enemy’s fighters showed no sign of slowing down. To expect them, stationary in the sky, to hit an object flying at hundreds of kilometers per hour is just a pipe dream.”
"Let me give you an example, General. Do you remember about two weeks ago when some knights challenged us to a pilot competition? Those ordinary pilots flying Sunderland aircraft couldn't hit those agile elites with their machine guns at all. Instead, they were stuck in place and were taken down in the blink of an eye. But now, in the air, not a single enemy plane is slower than those elites running on the ground."
"So what do you want? To give up the sky?"
"I have already ordered the lieutenant colonel to discontinue the aerial crescent formation. All squadrons are now fighting independently in motion. Although I don't expect the pilots to hit enemies at the same high speed, I believe that by applying pressure in the air and combining it with our ground firepower, we can definitely drive the enemy planes back."
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"Well then," the general seemed to finally remember something, "get me connected to the Tokyo concession right now! I have something to say to the people there."
"Ah, I'm so sorry, General. That device from the air raid just now—the one that controls our radio communications with the original world? Its power supply was accidentally destroyed in the attack..."
"What did you say! You mean we've completely cut off communication with the main world?"
"Uh...you could say that..."