Operation Skyfall

The roar of engines filled Alpha Air Base, a cacophony of power echoing into the endless blue sky. Rows of bombers and multirole combat aircraft stood poised on the tarmac like sleek steel titans—silent, yet brimming with the promise of devastation. Ground crew members in dark uniforms moved with purpose, checking systems, refueling engines, and coordinating last-minute details. Tension rippled through the air like static before a storm.

"Ready for takeoff in five!" barked Captain Victor Fyodorov, his voice cutting through the mechanical din. He adjusted his headset, scanning the faces of his squadron. The crew responded with nods—faces tight with a cocktail of anticipation and dread.

"Are we really doing this?" whispered Lieutenant Hall, her voice barely audible beneath the hum of turbines. "What if we're just making things worse?"

"Worse?" Sergeant Kim scoffed, fingers flying over the final pre-flight checks. "You think those monsters are gonna pack their bags and waltz outta that jungle? No. They need to be erased. We're the ones to do it. Boom!" He clapped his hands together sharply, drawing a nervous chuckle from Hall.

"Focus, people," Victor said, tone firm. "We have our orders. The Emperor wants results—and we'll deliver them."

A deep thud reverberated across the tarmac as the last bomber in the line, a Tupolev Tu-16, rolled forward, its massive tires gripping the concrete. Pride surged in Victor's chest. This was what they'd trained for. A chance to strike back at the monsters that had slaughtered so many.

"Takeoff clearance granted," the voice crackled through the intercom. "You are clear for departure."

Engines roared to full power as the first wave began rolling forward, wings trembling under the strain. One by one, the bombers surged down the runway, gaining speed.

VROOOM!

The crescendo of engines peaked as they lifted into the air, slicing through clouds like knives.

"Look at that," Hall murmured, gazing down. Below, the southern forest sprawled in all directions—an ocean of green, mysterious and ancient. "It's beautiful."

"Yeah," Kim muttered, his smile fading. "Until it tries to eat you. Just wait till the bombs hit."

As they ascended, the mood in the cockpit turned grim. Victor kept one eye on the radar, the other on the shifting horizon. "Approaching target zone in five minutes. Everyone stay sharp. We're the first wave—and the Oozes are priority."

"Copy that," came the chorus of replies.

The forest beneath them began to change. The vibrant canopy turned darker, patches of rot and unnatural shimmer revealing the monsters' corrupted domains. Victor spotted the first signs: pools of iridescent sludge glinting in the sunlight.

"Targets in sight," he announced.

"Prepare to drop payloads on my mark."

"Locking on," Kim said, fingers dancing across the controls.

"Ready!" Hall echoed, fear replaced with cold focus. "Let's finish this."

"T-minus ten seconds," Victor counted. "Five... four... three... two... one... Drop!"

The bomb bay doors yawned open with a whoosh, releasing a deadly torrent of MS Napalm 2.0. The incendiary payload rained down like fire from the gods.

BOOM!

A brilliant blossom of orange and red consumed the jungle below, igniting the twisted nests of the Oozes in a blaze of unnatural light. The shockwave rattled the bomber, a visceral reminder of the power they wielded.

"We're doing what we have to," Victor muttered, gripping the controls. "They started this."

"Look!" Hall shouted.

From the burning foliage, monstrous forms erupted in chaos—giant spiders scuttling in frenzied terror, titans roaring in confusion as they stomped through the smoke. The forest had awakened.

"More bombs!" Victor commanded. "Continue the assault!"

"Bombs away!" Kim shouted back, his hands flying. The crew worked like cogs in a killing machine, practiced efficiency sharpened by urgency.

"Drop!" Victor barked as they reached the next sector. Another thunderous boom cracked the air, and flames rose to meet the sky.

CRACK!

Trees splintered like matchsticks. The once-pristine jungle was now a churning inferno. The bombers looped around, the acrid stench of burning rot bleeding into the cockpit's recycled air.

"Direct hit on the Oozes!" Hall called, pumping a fist. Her triumph faded fast. "Look out!"

A colossal titan, limbs like pillars, hurled a tree trunk toward them with terrifying force.

THWACK!

The impact slammed against the bomber's wing, the plane lurching midair.

"Pull up! Pull up!" Victor yelled, adrenaline surging. The aircraft groaned, but responded—rising just in time to avoid disaster.

"Holy—" Kim swore, eyes wide.

"That was too close!"

"Eyes on the mission!" Victor snapped. "Reload. We're not done."

They soared over scorched jungle, the ground below a battlefield of fire and twisted corpses.

"More targets ahead," Hall reported, pointing to a clearing.

"Trolls," Victor growled. "We're hitting them hard."

The trolls, hulking and grotesque, lumbered through the open, their guttural bellows echoing into the canopy.

"Drop!" Victor ordered.

BOOM!

The clearing lit up like a second sun. The trolls shrieked, writhing in flames.

"Aaaahhhh!"

"Direct hit!" Hall cried, elated. "They're going down!"

"Keep flying!" Victor urged, sweat glistening on his brow. "Maintain altitude. We go again."

"This is insane," Kim muttered, rearming the bombs.

As they turned for another run, the terrain shifted. They'd entered mountainous territory—high peaks where fog clung to the cliffs. A known nesting ground for flying monsters.

Then—

FWOOOOOSH!

A massive shape burst from the fog—wings wide, limbs spindly. A grotesque fusion of spider and bat, nearly ten meters across, lunged at the bomber.

"It's a Spider Bat!" Hall screamed.

"Brace for impact!" Victor shouted.

THUD!

The creature slammed into the fuselage. The plane rocked violently. Alarms shrieked. Red lights strobed across the cockpit.

"Get it off! Get it off!" Kim roared.

"Fire! Fire!" Victor shouted. Hall grabbed the gunner's controls and opened fire.

BANG! BANG!

The bullets pinged off the creature's chitinous hide, but it didn't budge.

"Stabilize!" Kim barked, fighting the controls. "Losing altitude!"

"Hall, aim for the eyes!" Victor commanded.

Her hands trembled. Then, she focused. The reticle slid over the Spider Bat's face.

BAM!

A direct hit. The creature shrieked, legs flailing. It lost grip—and tumbled into the abyss below.

"YES!" Hall exhaled, breathless with adrenaline.

"Back to the mission!" Victor snapped. "More targets—finish the job!"

The squadron regrouped, looping back for one final run. Bomb bay doors opened once more.

"Bombs away!" Victor barked.

A wave of napalm and chemical fire cascaded downward. The earth below became a cauldron of destruction. Flames devoured everything.

And for a moment, the world glowed red.

As the last payload fell, the bombers rose above the smoke, the forest below nothing more than a smoldering ruin.

"Return to base," Victor said, his voice heavy.

The planes banked toward the horizon, the setting sun casting long, bloody shadows over the wreckage. Behind them, the southern forest burned—cleansed by fire, but far from silent.