Novel & Cerita Armada

The command center of the Zumwalt-class destroyer was instantly bathed in a rhythmic, violent crimson. Every flat-panel display, every tactical terminal, and every holographic projection turned blood-red simultaneously. The high-pitched shriek of the proximity alarms was so piercing it felt like it was carving through the ear drums of everyone present.

Iris said, and Roger nodded. “Now, Arman, Dominic, Stavros… I need to have a balance of all the armed forces available… We need to know the headcount and level of training. Teams and designated commanders for each group,” I said, and they nodded. “Just so you know, in my realm we have worked on a special armour…” Dominic surprised me, “It is light and quite effective, but it is bulletproof, leaving very few vulnerable spots for our guys to get hit with a bullet… in this case, the serum,” he informed me, and I smirked.

His fingers twitched slightly at his sides, the only betrayal of the storm building within him. “Subject: Deceased. Adrium: Not detected.” The lead drone emitted a short, shrill beep, and the others responded with a synchronized retreat, lifting upward like vultures denied a feast. In seconds, they were gone, vanishing into the smog above the ruins. Tunde exhaled slowly. His eyes flicked to the crate. The shard glowed faintly in the shadows like a heart still beating.

Amara’s answer was a whisper sharpened to a blade. “Then I’ll crown him in his own bones.” Hours later, the first wave of explosions shattered the horizon. The port burned. The sea glowed red under the flash of artillery. The city trembled. Amara stood at the balcony of the war room, wind tearing through her hair, the bone crown finally back on her head. Her soldiers cheered below as the Moretti-Varela fleet surged forward, guns blazing against the Nero ships. Luca joined her at her side, silent. For a moment, they didn’t speak.

The controls lit up around me—joysticks, screens, a helmet resting in the cradle. I put the helmet on. The visor flickered, displaying a Heads-Up Display. SYSTEM ONLINE. WELCOME, PRINCESS MARINA. "No," I said into the mic. "I'm Marigold." BIOMETRIC SCAN... MISMATCH. USER: MARIGOLD FORBES. ACCESS GRANTED. The screens shifted. Weapon systems. Navigation. Engine status. "Engine status?" I asked. FUEL CELLS: 100%. CAPABILITY: STEALTH. SPEED: MACH 2. ARMAMENT: 2x MISSILES, 1x RAILGUN.

“ARAMIDE!” Adrian screamed as he ran to her and fell at her side, she had rolled down fifteen steps, she was covered in blood and her hair was stuck to her skin, Adrian looked up at his mother. his eyes were filled with rage and they barely registered his mom shaking her yea profusely as if to day she had no clue about what happed that didn't matter now, the big problem was that Aramide wasn't breathing, guilt washed over Adrian.

Her bow and arrow aimed at the target, she drew back her bow and let the arrow loose, and it drilled the target. A man with a huge build long pitch-black hair and sharp hazel eyes, in black leather armor and black leather boots with a blood stain Claymore, walked into the training yard. All the guards present there bowed and said, “Greetings, your highness Alpha King Theon”. Amaria rolled her eyes, took another arrow from her quiver, aimed at the target once again, drew the bow back, and let the arrow loose, but this time she missed the target. “ Shit! I missed” She cursed under her breath.

Local time, 8:30 PM. Deep beneath the barren desert, the Bertley military base loomed like an iron fortress. Umbracia's four-star General Hesberg, clad in his sharp uniform, stared at the battle screen with a grim look. The latest report showed a devastating defeat: the Giant Whale's Fury tactic had failed, both Lords of War outmaneuvered, and the entire carrier fleet rendered useless. Alexander, an unstoppable force, was still carving his path into Umbracia.

He looked at me. "Ghost," he said, his voice barely audible over the mechanical hum of the lift. "When the shield drops, the entire Armada is going to get a lock on this building. It won't be a blind bombardment anymore. It will be a localized deletion strike." "I know," I said, adjusting the heavy data-deck strapped to my forearm. The Origin-Code pulsing in my veins felt like liquid adrenaline, sharp and electric. "The mass driver needs seven seconds to reach optimal launch velocity. I have to hold the target lock for seven seconds while the sky falls on our heads."

Adrian stood on the deck and looked ahead. Then, he leaped into the sea. One of the large ships was brightly lit. It was at the backmost position and it was the command center of the enemies. These ships were carrying Black Nergal’s banner, instantly revealing them as Black Nergal’s members.