Hundreds of pilots who died in battle threw blood and stumps across the sky and clouds in a variety of poses. 『『【Latest Chapter Reading Baoliny】Read the latest chapter for the first time. This vast expanse of blue sky was once a paradise for them. Ever since these people set foot here, they have regarded the sky as the vast dome that guards them. The other side of the ocean is the target of their conquest, and it will always be safe. Ancestors, fathers, and generations have been raising livestock and farming here. Today, almost every inch of land is soaked in their own blood.

The remnant sun shines through the clouds and casts down, forming a curtain-like screen of light, which is constantly changing. The flames of the explosion in the sky flashed continuously, and the fighter jet weighing more than a dozen tons was cut to pieces by the missile chain rod warhead in an instant, and the chainsaw-like warhead fragments neatly cut the plane, and the section was exposed like a visceral-like structure, which was clearly recognizable. The pilot's body was embedded in it, as if stuffed into a meat grinder, and was evenly pulped. This qiē happened in an instant, and in this millisecond, even if the aircraft's pipeline has been cut inch, the oil circuit and circuit are still unobstructed; Although the pilot has been strangled, he is still alive. Immediately afterward, everything that was intact was reduced to pieces, mixed with stardrops rubbing against each other and spraying exploding fuel droplets.

There was a loud explosion, a shockwave shattering the stumps, and blazing flames scorched through the cracks between the shards and flesh.

In the red flame, the flame color is rich and full. Blue flames of metal structures, turquoise composites burning, and red limb fragments and plasma, orange glow. The smoke in the transpiration is even more white fog, black and yellow.

Under the sky, the fires were shining one after another, and everything was shining.

Arnold looked at the dome of hell: "It's beautiful. ”

The corpses of their companions were sprinkled with flames and hurled towards their comrades.

Explosions are still flashing, and the old fighters of the Northern Free State are simply no match for the new generation of Walliers unmanned fighters. It wasn't a fair fight, but an open slaughter. These cold-blooded killing machines are even more terrifying than the most terrifying beasts, even the devils, they have no emotion, no mercy, no humanity, and they just kill people in batches in the most efficient way.

The former United States is destined to be a place of reincarnation of slaughter, and each slaughter is the alternation of the old and the new of the population.

In the sky, drones are raging like deadly viruses, cannibalizing manned aircraft, and their superiority is far superior to humans. Could it be that the future belongs to them?

On the windshield of the F15 fighter led by the Northern Army, there was a reddish-brown scratch, and there seemed to be a piece of minced meat hanging on the de-icing device. It was once a warrior who trusted himself, once tall, strong, once ambitious, but now there is only so much left.

The morale of the military has been completely shaken, and the pilots are tired, hungry, panicked, and mentally tormented. Is there any point in this battle, and what about shooting down one or two drones, it's just a bunch of machines. But in order to shoot down a drone, the Northern Army will have to pay the price of 10 to 16 pilots, what is this battle for, and should it continue to be killed. Who are you dying for, why are you dying, why are you dying, and what are you doing. This thought slowly matured in everyone's minds, and the ranks began to break up. The original mutual cover and multi-level maneuvering formation were difficult to maintain, some people wanted to run, some people wanted to fight, but they were all ruthlessly torn apart. Slowly torn and incinerate. Souls who have no time to repent have only one way to hell. Could it be that this is what he pursues as a warrior, is it possible that a complete warrior dies in such a miserable way?

Death without purpose, strategy, and chance.

This is not called sacrifice, at most it is called death.

What the hell is this doing?

Arnold Prince's words came over the radio, no longer madly deafening, but a kind of earnest guidance: "Let your heart, O man, choose what your heart wants, and do what your heart really wants." It's hard to imagine that these words are coming out of Arnold's mouth, whose brain condition is rapidly deteriorating, but the words seem to be more convincing.

"What is human nature. On the one hand, there is the death of hypocrisy, and on the other hand, there is the real life, how many people are willing to use death to defend hypocrisy, is there really someone who would rather die than wear a mask. People who hear this sentence don't have much time to think about it. I will teach you, and I will measure you. Everyone here is being targeted by two or three drones, and I declare that whoever attacks the Hundred Sun Oni will be exempt from the drone attack, and the drone will protect those who dare to stand up and show their true self. I'm here to make a human assessment for you. ”

Heart-pounding words are radioed to everyone's ears.

It's not complicated: if you stand on the side of the attack, you have to die; Attack is struck and can be alive.

However, there is one question that Arnold is not all right.

In the airspace around Fort Leavenworth, there was one plane that wasn't locked by any drones, and no one even noticed.

Between the charred earth and the craggy gorge, an F14 was barely passing, it was a plane from Carat Green. She was out of combat airspace before the arrival of the Walliers unmanned fighter group and was not detected by the unmanned integrated combat system.

Exactly, Kara couldn't stay in the combat airspace. Her old cat had failed in a single shot and had multiple injuries all over her body. While flying is not a problem, it is difficult for an aircraft to maintain altitude when one engine is completely lost and the entire aircraft can only be driven by half of the system. She wanted to find an airfield to land as much as she could, and then find a fighter jet to come back to support.

Carla is in a different mood than everyone else. She is cheerful, excited, and confident of victory. There is only one reason, Meng is not a hundred day ghost, not a murderer, or a trigger of the end of the world. My persistence is right, and I still have a future. As long as the attack is still there, there will be no problems with the victory of this battle, and there will be no problems with yourself. When the battle is over, just follow him on an adventure. Anyway, the Seven Aces of the First Day have not been found, and the Hundred Days Ghost has not been eliminated, so there is still a long way to go.

The more she thought about it, the more excited Kara became.

She wasn't afraid. This is the terrain of eastern Colorado that she is most familiar with, and Riego is where Carla grew up. Since she was a child, she has remembered every bit of the landscape. Of course, all the mountains were higher than her and grander than her. Today, Kara can boast of the mountains, but she calls it home, and every ridge is like her porch and furniture. It is this unique landscape that has been protecting her now. Even if the surface of the earth is completely changed by the destructive attack, the mountain is always loyal. Although the sky was scuffled and explosions were heard, the canyons and mountains kept her out of danger.

It is a pity that a nuclear attack destroyed nearby airfields, large and small. Radioactive fallout fills, not to mention landing to resupply or replace aircraft; Even if there is a place to fall, the cockpit canopy cannot be opened lightly, not to mention that the shock wave and high temperature have completely destroyed several large airports.

The fuel gauge had already exceeded the danger limit, and Kara couldn't fly anywhere even if there was a good airfield nearby.

Her old cat was starting to wheez, and the engine was wheezing like a cough, which was very sad.

I don't know how long it took, but it was still scorched black in front of me, and I felt like I was stuck in a black absolute space, and I couldn't escape, and I couldn't let this old cat rest.

Fighter jets, like people and animals, also have oil pipelines like blood vessels and pipeline systems like nerve veins; And the heart, that's its engine. An injured person may still be able to move, but if they are not reached in time to reach the hospital, they will bleed excessively and die of shock. It's the same with fighters. Although the automatic fire extinguisher has brought the fire under control, the broken fuel and lubricating oil are leaking more and more. Although the F14 can barely maintain its flight, its life hangs by a thread.

Maybe the old cat won't hold it anymore. The only remaining left engine propelled the plane with all its might, but the debris sucked in by the intake tract flowed like a blade through its veins, entering the heart, slicing through the ventricles and killing it.

Time and the blood of the old cat are constantly flowing. When he was first injured, he was still in good spirits, and he looked like he was going to bring Carla back. But now its injuries are too severe to make it to any airport.

It's the only one, just like she. That one might be gone forever.

Kara looked around for a place where she could make a forced landing, preferably on the road, and if she was lucky, she could find a means of communication or other means of transportation, and then try to find the nearest mercenary airfield, and call her employer, Hinty, who wanted to come back and stay with Meng.

It's a very difficult idea to realize, not to mention the roads nearby, and even the towns are indistinguishable, all of them are charred and pitch black.

As Kara searches, she discovers something strange.

To be precise, it was her unique flight path and altitude that allowed the F14 to circle the east side of Fort Leavenworth, away from the western airspace, so she was the only one who discovered this strange thing:

On the roof of the Papal Palace in Fort Leavenworth, Arnold was nowhere to be seen, and he went downstairs.

"Why?" Carla pondered.

Isn't the terrible state of this terrible dome hell that Arnold likes to admire the most? He said on the radio that he was going to sift everyone through the so-called screening, and he could only see it clearly from the top of the Papal Palace, how could he go downstairs at this time.

Besides, Arnold didn't just want all the cameras to catch him and make everyone tremble when they saw this face. If you leave the roof of the Papal Palace, no outside media can photograph him.

"00, you're finally back." There was a strange sound in Kara's headphones, like a jackal's laughter. This strange voice was speaking to itself.

The tone and title are undoubtedly Arnold Prince.

Carla kept an eye on every exit from Fort Leavenworth Prison, searching for Arnold, who might want to run.

Where the hell is this guy and what is he going to do.

Arnold's voice was still ringing: "Kara, if you want to know all the qiē, then come, come back to me." I'm waiting for you. ”