Very Wrong Reincarnation: Isekai with Game Nation

Vol. 3 Chapter 5

"Vladimir," Miloš's voice came through the comms, calm but with a hint of amusement, "you see those props down there? Sanctium’s grandpa planes."

Vladimir chuckled, his tone lighthearted. "Deda avioni, indeed. What are they trying to do? Bait us again, that's not gonna work."

"Let them be," Miloš replied. "They’re not our problem. Once we’re done with the airbase, I'll buy you a beer. A little celebration for an easy war, eh?"

"Hold you to that, Captain," Vladimir quipped, his laugh crackling over the radio.

Ahead, the target loomed—a massive airbase centered in the lowlands, its perimeter riddle with AA batteries. Sanctium’s prop-driven aircrafts dotted the runways, some stationary, others preparing for sorties. It was a relic of old era, but still a critical asset in this ongoing war.

Miloš keyed his mic. "Alright, boys, focus up. Vladimir, you're with me. We’re hitting the bombers. The rest of you, target the runway and disperse their operations."

The situation became nerve-wracking as the first bursts of anti-aircraft fire erupted from below. Black plumes of smoke blossomed around them, spreading and converging in the sky with the sharp crack of proximity-fused shells. Miloš gritted his teeth, weaving through the flak as he zeroed in on a line of parked bombers. "Bombs away!" he barked, releasing his payload.

The 250-kilogram bombs struck dead on, detonating with thunderous force. Flames and smoke blasting several of the bombers, their burning wreckage scattering across the tarmac. Bullets zipped dangerously close to Miloš's cockpit, the aircraft shuddering under the strain of evasive maneuvers. He pulled up sharply, climbing back to the safety of altitude.

Below, the rest of the squadron was making quick work of their targets. A Jastreb armed with rockets unleashed a salvo of 55mm projectiles, tearing through a row of Sanctium monoplanes. Cluster bombs pockmarked the runway, rendering it useless. For fifteen minutes, death and anarchy reigned as the squadron bombed and strafed the base, leaving destruction in their wake.

Then, on the horizon.

Something massive in numbers appearing.

"Time to pull out," Miloš ordered. "Mass fighter formation inbound. We’ve done enough damage."

The squadron regrouped, climbing back to cruising altitude as they escape the enemy mass formation. Vladimir’s voice broke the silence. "Captain, after this war, I’m getting married."

"Congratulations," Miloš replied, a smile creeping into his voice. "Guess I’m your best man?"

"Who else?" Vladimir laughed.

The banter was short-lived. Suddenly, the tone of the conversation change as. "Miloš… my aircraft—something’s wrong, it's darkening, is the weather...," Vladimir said, his voice tense.

Miloš glanced over, saw silhouette overhead the aircraft.

Something massive was descending from the clouds...

Vladimir’s Jastreb was bathe in shadow, the source revealed as a massive twin-engine, variable-swept-wing aircraft swooping upon them. The aircraft was unlike anything they’d encountered before, but it was familiar, its dark silhouette both alien and menacing.

The silence was deafening as the enemy aircraft leveled its nose at Vladimir.

Time seemed to freeze as the M61 Vulcan cannon began to turned, and soon — roared to life.

Brrrt!

Tracer rounds streaked through the air, tearing into Vladimir’s Jastreb in a blink of an eye. The jet disintegrated in a shower of flames and debris, its pilot’s scream cutting through the comms before being abruptly silenced.