Beside him, a chariot was overturned by the air waves, rolling in the air like a toy. Pen ~ fun ~ pavilion www.biquge.info

I chose the same bunker as the tank crew to hide.

Violent air currents whistling in our ears, and when wireless communication fails, we can only communicate with gestures.

He gave me a thumbs up, as if to say that he was a veteran.

I patted him on the chest and told him to trust me that it was okay.

The two of us were like salmon swimming back, ignoring the danger and heading against the flow of people to the area where the air raid was the focus.

Along the way, someone saw our actions and joined in.

Our target was a half-destroyed anti-aircraft tracked vehicle.

On the chassis of the tank, it was supposed to be equipped with a quadruple rapid-fire gun plus two omnidirectional medium-range anti-aircraft missiles, a composite fire control radar and an integrated suppression system.

When we arrived, the anti-aircraft missiles and fire control radar were scrapped, and the rapid-fire gun was in a half-destroyed state, except for the integrated suppression system, which appeared to be intact.

When the anti-aircraft missiles were finished, I couldn't help but be discouraged, and was about to turn around to look for other anti-aircraft vehicles, but I was stopped by the tank crew.

Under the puzzled gaze of the five, including me, the tank crew opened his face armor and revealed his dark face.

Under the confident smile, a row of white teeth is particularly eye-catching.

Unfounded, I chose to believe him and began to look forward to the counterattack that was about to be implemented.

Naturally, the tank crew became the commander of the temporary group.

There were two other lieutenants like him, but we all chose him as the leader, perhaps because of the influence of that confident smile.

The situation is far from optimistic.

The main road has been burned to the ground with a fiery dragon. Hundreds of combat vehicles were crammed together and blown into useless iron shells.

As far as I can see, the destroyed tanks on this section of the road are large enough to form an armored battalion. I believe that similar scenarios are playing out on other pathways.

With this round of air strikes alone, the armored assault forces of the Tarsis battle group will be half-defeated.

Of the dozen or so Banshee fighters, most left.

Three planes were left behind to slaughter the people who were hiding on both sides of the roadbed.

The rapid-fire cannon kicked up a half-meter-high wall of dust on the ground, which stretched along the roadbed.

Stumps, corpses, and equipment flew on both sides of the roadbed. Blood and dust form a dark red haze that dots the place the color of hell.

The blood-colored sky turned a dark red.

Could it be that the entire underground space is dyed red and blackened by the blood of our soldiers?

Simple tasks are assigned.

The other four went to find individual anti-aircraft missiles. I got into the anti-aircraft vehicle with him and operated the equipment that could still be used.

To be honest, I was skeptical of his plan, but there was no better option in the current situation.

The banshees kept reaping their lives.

Occasionally, a few individual anti-aircraft missiles were lifted into the air, but they were all fancied by enemy planes.

The one-sided beating made me angry.

Are we good boys going to be buried here like this?

"I'm so unwilling!"

There were two bodies inside the anti-aircraft vehicle.

The fully enclosed combat suit is densely covered with small holes, and even the helmet of the charioteer is full of small bullet holes.

"This is the damage caused by repeated sputtering of metal jets between the inner liners, and it is the most common way for charioteers to die."

The tank crew bends down in a prayer posture.

Soon he straightened up.

"Brothers, let me avenge you!"

We struggled to lift the body out of the cockpit.

The situation was urgent, and there was no time to bury them, so they could only be placed not far away, next to a chariot that had been burned into empty shells.

Again getting into the anti-aircraft vehicle, the tank crew occupied the commander's seat and began to fiddle with the integrated suppression system.

I ran to the co-pilot's seat, ready to familiarize myself with the use of the quadruple rapid-fire gun.

The seat was covered with the blood and flesh of the fallen warriors.

Although I'm used to seeing bloody scenes, I still can't get used to it.

Holding back the urge to vomit, he pushed aside the minced meat.

I sat in my chair almost with bated breath.

After a while, the desire to vomit waned, and I dared to take a big breath.

The console is intact. The multi-function monitor shows the damage to the quadruple gun.

The No. 1 and No. 4 guns were completely destroyed, the No. 2 guns were abandoned due to ammunition jamming, and the No. 3 guns that could really be used were used.

The remaining 312 rounds of conventional ammunition.

Initial familiarity with the use of rapid-fire guns, running the fire control computer, and compensating calibration of gun No. 2.

At this time, the air defense vehicle received the agreed light sighting signal, and the other four people were already in position.

The tankman made a gesture to start.

Our little counterattack is officially launched.

Following the booking steps, I adjusted the anti-aircraft gun and aimed at the Banshee fighter 300 meters away, which was strafing at an ultra-low altitude, and opened fire.

Under normal circumstances, such an attack aircraft, which uses concealment as its main means of defense, would not risk lowering to this height.

Apparently the unilateral killing paralyzed the vigilance of the pilots.

He must have been immersed in the thrill of killing.

"I'll make you happy and excited!"

Gritting my teeth, I pressed the launch button.

The scarlet ballistics formed a line and turned into a flaming whip and slammed into the enemy plane.

The enemy planes were really careless.

The moment the whip approached the body, it leaped upwards like a cat with its tail stepped on, and suddenly rose to a height.

"Oops, it's almost!"

A small number of fragments of armor and half of the ailerons were dropped from the air.

Enemy aircraft are still alive.

The Banshee Fighter turned its nose abruptly, and the distance of 300 meters was so close to it.

The nose gun carved a wall of dust into the ground and extended towards the anti-aircraft vehicle.

There was a click, and the high-speed flame-spewing anti-aircraft guns stopped, and the 312 rounds of spare ammunition were emptied in a matter of seconds.

We have lost the means to fight back.

"Zero bullets!"

I turned around and yelled at the tankmen.

He ignored me and concentrated on operating the integrated press.

The wall of dust is advancing towards us at breakneck speed.

I've begun to imagine an armor-piercing bullet piercing the roof of an already broken car, blasting the two of us to pieces.

On the eyepiece display, a diamond-shaped marking frame locks onto the fighter, and the tank crew shouts "medium".

I looked at the plane, but the fuselage hadn't exploded, and I couldn't tell that anything had hit it.

However, on the monitor, the diamond-shaped frame turned dark red.

The wall of dust stopped extending, and the attack aircraft swayed and swayed in the air drunkenly.

"What's wrong with it?"

"Look!"

The tankmen laughed, as if they had shot down the enemy plane.

When I turned back again, the Banshee was raising its nose, which was the standard move to re-stabilize its stance.

Four missiles rose into the air from four directions, the front end of the white column of smoke, and the bright missile tail flame flickered.

Looking at the trajectory, there are two anti-tank models that attack the top.

On the side of the banshee fighter plane, decoy bullets scattered out to both sides.

Two anti-aircraft missiles, which attacked from both sides, plunged into the decoy group.

The smoke from the explosion mixed with orange-red fireballs. The fragments converged in the direction of the decoy bombs mistaken for enemy aircraft, and the Banshee struggled between the rapids of the fragments, miraculously unscathed.

The speed of the anti-tank missile was not fast, and taking advantage of the time when the attack aircraft stabilized its attitude, it "slowly" climbed to an altitude of nearly 400 meters, and thus "missed" the interception window of the decoy bomb group.

When the jet of metal, like a sharp sword falling from the sky, pierced straight downward, the hapless enemy plane could complete its attitude adjustment.

The tiltrotors returned to a horizontal state, and the fighter was about to roar out of the dangerous airspace.

The two swords of light were successfully pierced, and the fighter plane was first dismembered into four large pieces by the metal jet.

The hustle and bustle stopped.

I saw four pieces of wreckage tumble and float down for a long distance, and then a series of explosions erupted.

The cheers of the fighters could be heard from inside the anti-aircraft vehicles, and I took a long breath and turned my head to look at the tank crews.

"Brother, what the hell have you done?"

"Hey, laser blinding plus sensor overload. No matter what kind of attack aircraft it is, it is impossible to escape my precise suppression at this distance, I am ......"

The flash bleached my eyes instantly.

It's strange that I can't hear the sound, it's so quiet all around.

What's wrong? The battle is over? No, there are still two banshees wreaking havoc, and with so many people around, it is impossible that there is no sound.

Why can't I see?

There was a white expanse in the field of vision.

I reached out and felt in front of my eyes, blocked by the eyepiece, and a slimy, wet patch.

The outside world was still so quiet, but my heart couldn't calm down.

The sticky and moist touch, the tangy fishy smell, all warned me that someone was spurting a lot of blood.

Could that person be myself?

With trembling hands, I opened my visor, took off my eyepieces, and a gust of fishy wind blew on my cheeks.

The eyes gradually regained their ability to see, the bright spots of light had not receded, and the world was distorted.

Pain in the ear and a sensation of warm fluid coming out of the ear hole.

There was dead silence all around.

In the distorted field of vision, the tank crew maintained a posture of self-boasting at the last moment.

The dense holes ruined his appearance and made people's backs tingle.

I remembered what he said about the most frequent way for charioteers to die. Looking down at himself again, except for the blood wheel, there are no small holes of those mad people.

Because I'm not a charioteer, don't I have to die like this?

Lifting the top of the canned anti-aircraft vehicle, two banshees were circling and firing.

My world is still dead.