A while ago.
In the warehouse of the Western Airport of Comoros, Kang De and Horus.
His iron son looked up at the sky at a 45-degree angle and said that he was hungry.
Kang De was puzzled, "What's there?"
Horus muttered, "Delicious thing, very delicious thing…"
Kang De was shocked, "The sun? You have thick eyebrows and big eyes. You're actually a fallen Vajra?"
"No, it's not the sun, it's metal…"
"—Satellite?"
"No, there are many. They're approaching. Soon, very soon…"
Kang De blinked. "Fighter jets?"
His iron son was falling into a food fantasy and casually said, "Yes, it might be fighter jets…"
"…"
"…"
The humans and robots turned around and looked at each other.
"Fighter jets?"
"A lot?"
"…F*ck!
"…F*ck!"
The father and son cursed in unison.
In a godforsaken place like Comoros, a group of high-speed fighter jets rushed over. What were they doing?