Chapter 103: Super Bad News
The Black Hawks reacted instantly.
"Break! Break!" one of the pilots yelled.
The first tendril shot past the rooftop, missing the building by meters, but the second one came straight toward the hovering helicopter.
"Evasive!" the pilot snapped.
The Black Hawk banked hard to the left, engines roaring as the pilot forced it into a sharp lateral movement. The tendril tore through the air where it had been just a second earlier, the force of it sending a shockwave that rattled the helicopter.
"Jesus—!" the co-pilot muttered.
The second helicopter pulled up aggressively, gaining altitude as another tendril shot upward beneath it, barely missing its tail.
"Cold Reach One, multiple strikes incoming!" Sentinel Eye warned. "Trajectory is reactive—it’s tracking movement!"
Adrian didn’t hesitate.
"Fight back," he said, voice firm through the comms. "Do not hold position. Keep moving and return fire."
There was no confusion on the other end.
"Copy! Engaging!" one of the door gunners replied.
The Black Hawks stabilized just enough for the gunners to act.
Then the Miniguns came alive.
The mounted M134s spun up with a rising mechanical whine that cut through the chaos. A fraction of a second later, they opened fire.
A continuous stream of rounds poured out.
Tracers ripped through the air in long, unbroken lines, slamming into the tendrils as they surged upward. The impact was immediate. Chunks of armored plating shattered off, fragments breaking away under the sheer volume of fire.
"Keep it on it!" the gunner shouted.
The Minigun didn’t stop.
Rounds hammered into the length of one tendril, tearing into its surface. It didn’t bleed the way anything normal would. Instead, darker material broke apart under the impacts, pieces flying off as the structure weakened.
But it didn’t stop moving.
The tendril twisted mid-air, reacting.
Adjusting.
Another one burst out of the ground beside it, angling upward toward the second helicopter.
"Right side! Right side!" the co-pilot yelled.
The second Black Hawk banked hard, engines screaming as it tried to break line of attack.
The gunner swung his weapon across.
The Minigun roared again.
Rounds stitched across the rising tendril, cutting into it before it could fully extend. The impacts forced it off course, its trajectory bending just enough to miss the helicopter by a narrow margin.
"Hit confirmed! It’s reacting to fire!" the gunner called out.
Adrian listened, eyes focused.
"Don’t let it get a clean line," he said. "Keep suppressing."
"Copy!"
Both helicopters were now in constant motion.
They couldn’t hover.
They couldn’t stay steady.
They moved in wide arcs, banking and climbing, never staying in one place long enough to be predicted. The Miniguns fired in overlapping coverage, creating a defensive field of continuous fire.
Below them, the street was being torn apart.
Every time a tendril burst out, it was met with immediate fire. Some were forced back before they could fully extend. Others pushed through, damaged but still dangerous, slashing through the air where the helicopters had been seconds earlier.
At first, it looked like it was working.
Rounds tore pieces off.
Fragments broke away.
The tendrils bent under the impact.
But then—
They kept moving.
Unaffected.
Ryan noticed it first.
"...Adrian," he said.
Adrian didn’t respond immediately.
He was already seeing it.
The damage wasn’t stopping it.
It wasn’t even slowing it down.
The pieces that broke off, it didn’t matter.
"Sentinel Eye," Adrian said. "Assess damage."
"Cold Reach One... negative on effective degradation," the AWACS replied. "Impacts are superficial. Structure integrity remains unchanged."
That settled it.
The Miniguns weren’t doing anything that mattered.
"Gunner, adjust fire!" one of the pilots shouted. "Aim for joints, base, anything!"
"Trying!" the gunner replied.
The Minigun roared again, rounds shifting toward the base of a rising tendril. The impacts tore into it, carving out chunks, but the tendril still came up.
"It’s not stopping!" the co-pilot yelled.
Another tendril burst from the ground.
The first Black Hawk banked hard again, trying to break away.
Too late.
The tendril didn’t swing.
It snapped.
Like a whip.
It caught the helicopter mid-maneuver, slamming into its side with violent force.
The entire aircraft jolted.
"Hit! We’re hit!" the pilot shouted.
Inside the cockpit, alarms screamed instantly.
The rotor lost alignment for a split second, the entire frame shuddering as control systems fought to compensate.
"Stabilize!" the co-pilot yelled.
But the tendril didn’t let go.
It wrapped.
Tight.
Around the midsection of the helicopter.
"Jesus— it’s got us!" the gunner shouted, his voice cutting through the comms.
"Break contact! Break contact!" he ordered.
The pilot tried, putting full power on the engines.
The helicopter strained against the grip, rotors fighting for lift.
But it wasn’t enough.
The tendril pulled.
Hard.
The Black Hawk lurched violently to the side, its nose dipping as it lost control.
"Mayday! Mayday! We’re going down!" the pilot shouted.
The second helicopter broke formation immediately, pulling away to avoid the same fate.
The tendril slammed the first Black Hawk down.
The impact was brutal.
Metal crumpled.
The rotor shattered on contact.
The entire aircraft skidded across the street, sparks and debris flying as it tore through what remained of the asphalt.
The second Black Hawk didn’t slow.
It climbed.
Engines pushed to their limit as the pilot pulled the nose up, trying to gain altitude and distance from the strike zone.
"Cold Reach One, we’re breaking off!" the pilot said over comms. "Climbing to safe altitude—"
He didn’t get to finish.
"Sentinel Eye, track—" Adrian started.
"Negative!" the AWACS cut in sharply. "Subterranean movement accelerating—directly beneath second aircraft!"
Ryan’s head snapped toward the window.
"That’s not good."
The ground shifted again.
But this time, it wasn’t wide.
It was focused.
A single point.
Directly under the second helicopter.
Then it erupted.
A tendril shot up.
Faster than the others.
"Break right! BREAK RIGHT!" the co-pilot shouted.
The pilot reacted instantly, banking hard, trying to slip past it—
Too late.
The tendril didn’t graze.
It struck.
Dead center.
The impact slammed into the underside of the helicopter with brutal force, sending the entire aircraft into a violent spin.
"Mayday! Mayday! We’re hit!" the pilot yelled.
The rotor destabilized immediately, blades clipping air at uneven angles as the entire frame shook violently.
"Controls— I’ve lost controls!" the co-pilot shouted.
The aircraft pitched downward.
"Recover! Recover!" someone screamed over comms, but it couldn’t recover. It crashed down to the ground.
"Fuck!" Adrian cursed.