As the Flying Palace's transponder showed it descending over the Pacific, the noise at the airport rose like a physical thing. Anchors yelled updates to their cameras; spotters screamed at each other to adjust their lenses.
ATC chatter leaked online via scanner apps, and thousands listened as controllers coordinated the special arrival:
"Imperium Heavy, cleared visual approach Runway 25R. Traffic has been rerouted for you."
"That's affirm, LAX Tower. Imperium Heavy on visual for 25R."
Hearing that call sign — "Imperium Heavy" — live on air sent chills down the feeds.
When the black A380 finally broke through the haze, its wings glinting in the late sunlight, the crowd roared like it was a rock concert. Phones tilted skyward, drones tracked every angle, and even the news anchors nearly lost their composure.
It descended slowly and majestically. The sheer size of it dwarfed every other plane on the field. Even a taxiing 777 nearby looked like a toy beside it.
