The EDF fleet carved through Sirius Prime's atmosphere like falling hammers, their hulls screaming against the frozen air. Commander Stones' voice crackled through every comm channel, raw with fury.
"All ships, commence orbital bombardment. Target coordinates locked. Show this bastard what happens when you mess with Earth Defense Force."
The sky exploded.
Plasma cannons, particle beams, and kinetic rounds hammered down in a relentless barrage. Each blast shook the ground beneath Noah's feet, turning the frozen wasteland into a hellscape of steam and molten rock. The bombardment was surgical in its intensity—five solid minutes of concentrated firepower that left the air itself burning.
Noah pressed against Lucas's electrical barrier, watching the destruction through crackling energy. His knuckles were white around Excaliburn's hilt, rage coiled tight in his chest like a spring.
"Come on," Noah whispered through gritted teeth. "Stay down."
