Chapter 108: Eden
In the wake of the explosion, NYC notoriety spread like wildfire across the globe. First came Zack's destruction of the Caribbean base—a display that had already drawn the attention of major factions. But this? The debut of a space-based weapon system was on an entirely different level.
In a distant survivor base known as Eden, nestled in Europe, a group of high-ranking officials stared at the satellite images in stunned silence. The footage of the tungsten rod's devastating impact played on a large screen before them. "The think tank has completed their analysis," someone announced, breaking the silence. "It's confirmed—a space-based weapon. Impact speed reached Mach 31.5."
"Intercepting something like that would be impossible," muttered a man in a military uniform. His gray beard twitched as he spoke, his voice tinged with unease. A colonel's insignia gleamed on his shoulder as he tossed a report onto the table.
"What about the nuclear bunkers?" In the conference room, the first thing on the minds of several senior executives was whether hiding in a nuclear bunker could save them. The tension was palpable, but the blonde woman sitting at the head of the table remained silent.
"Useless!" A middle-aged man in a military uniform, bearing the rank of colonel, broke the silence. His voice was grim and unyielding. "If a weapon like that hits us, the Garden of Eden will be wiped out instantly! It doesn't matter how deep you hide in a bunker. That tungsten rod can penetrate hundreds of meters into the ground!"
The room buzzed with uneasy murmurs. "This base is too big a threat to ignore," declared an older, slightly overweight man, his face set with determination.
"I propose we strike first! Launch intercontinental nuclear missiles at them!" The man's voice carried a sense of urgency. Living under the shadow of such a weapon felt unbearable—who could sleep peacefully knowing that, at any moment, a tungsten rod could rain down from the sky and obliterate them?
"I second the motion!"
"If we still intend to save the world, we can't ignore this threat!"
Another voice quickly chimed in. Though they claimed to want to "save the world," their true motive was thinly veiled—they sought to unify it under their control. Even in the apocalypse, these hawks clung to their ambitions of domination.
"Seconded!" "I agree!" "I object!" "Abstain!" The room descended into chaos as voices overlapped. In the end, more than half the attendees supported the proposal to launch a nuclear strike on NYC.
As the arguments died down, all eyes turned to the blonde woman at the head of the table. Her silence until now had been unnerving, as her status clearly carried weight. "No bombs will be dropped," she finally said, it wasn't a suggestion or a vote—it was a decision. The final word on the matter. "Meeting dismissed."
"But—" the older man began, his frustration boiling over. The woman's gaze silenced him. Around the room, the others were already standing, collecting their things, and leaving in quiet respect. Realizing he was alone in his protest, the man sighed heavily, grabbed his coat, and left with the others.
Now alone in the room, the blonde woman stared at the satellite images of NYC still displayed on the large screen. Her expression was unreadable. "I hope you survive this time," she murmured softly, reaching into her pocket to retrieve a small coin-sized device. Placing it on the table, she pressed it.
A beam of light shot out, forming a holographic image of a figure. "Blackhand, where are you?" she asked, her voice synthesized by the device into a neutral, unidentifiable tone.
Not far from NYC , a convoy of vehicles came to a stop. "We've arrived at the target area," someone reported, their voice cutting through the radio static.
At the top of what was once Bear Mountain, Zack descended slowly. His thrusters powered down, and his boots touched the ground. What lay before him was no longer a mountain but a massive crater. The entire peak had been obliterated, leaving behind a concave ring-like formation. The once-proud summit was now a bottomless pit.
"So this is the power of a space-based weapon..." Zack muttered as he stood on the edge of the crater, staring down at the abyss. His heart was heavy with a mix of awe and realization.
"Sir, the LSI satellite has sustained severe damage. It may no longer function as a space-based platform," Ego, his AI assistant, reported.
The reminder snapped Zack out of his thoughts. He frowned but remained calm. "That's fine," he said with a shrug. "If worse comes to worst, I'll just build another satellite and send it up myself."
The LSI satellite, he reflected, had been far from perfect. It had been only half-modified when he forced it into service, and now it was damaged, even knocked off course. "Besides," Zack added, his tone thoughtful, "it's just a reconnaissance satellite. The platform's altitude is too low anyway. At just over a thousand kilometers, it can't unleash the full potential of the weapon."
He glanced back at the massive crater, his mind racing with possibilities. "This power is nothing compared to what the system could do from a geostationary orbit—35,000 kilometers above Earth. If we dropped a tungsten rod from there..." He didn't finish the thought, but the implications were clear. A strike from that height could rival a nuclear weapon in destructive force. Flattening mountains would be the least of its capabilities.
"Let's move," Zack said, refocusing. "We need to clean up the radioactive contamination at the port and move on to the next phase."
Just as he prepared to activate his thrusters, a warning flashed across the HUD of his Apex suit. "Incoming missiles detected!"
Zack's eyes narrowed. "Intercept them. Now."
Red beams lanced out from the city's air defense system, streaking across the sky in brilliant lines. Explosions followed as the lasers tore through the incoming missiles, one after another. Thunderous booms echoed in the distance as the threats vanished from his radar. "It seems someone thought I'd taken heavy losses and wanted to kick me while I was down," Zack said coldly.
But they had miscalculated. Zack hadn't suffered any significant damage. His mechanical dogs and spiders were mass-produced, with supplies stockpiled in overwhelming quantities. His arsenal of weapons was vast, his resources seemingly endless. "Ego, locate the missile launch site, let's see who's so generous, sending all those big rockets at once!" Zack grinned as he prepared to fire up the propeller and take off.
Just then— "Sir! Stealth unit detected!" Ego's alert broke the silence.
Its life detector had picked up a fast-moving signal in the open field ahead. The signal was faint but unmistakable—someone was using stealth technology. "Invisible?" Zack muttered, his instincts kicking in. Without hesitation, he raised his hand and unleashed a full-power palm cannon blast toward the empty space.
Boom!
A particle beam shot through the air, illuminating the darkness for a moment. Suddenly, the "empty" space wasn't empty anymore—a man in black materialized mid-stride, struck directly in the shoulder by the blast.