Getting a Technology System in Modern Day

A squadron of five aircrafts could be seen soaring through the expansive sky, with a few clusters of islands being visible beneath them on the ocean’s surface as they moved forward at a very high speed with the eyes of the pilots being fixed on their screens, hoping to find any target in their radar and see if their squadron was lucky enough to have all the four Eden’s aircraft come to them or if they were simply unlucky and would just end up bombing some military bases until the enemies surrender in fit of fear.

“Looks like luck isn’t on our side,” remarked a pilot designated as number twelve as he glanced at his screen and found that there was nothing that was caught in the radar. Feeling disappointed knowing that he would not be finding an opportunity to shoot down a fighter plane.

“I understand, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that others are luckier than us. Maybe the enemy pilots ran away? I mean, there are forty-five of us against four of them. I will not be flying an aircraft if it means that I will be going to a guaranteed death,” replied his wingman, who was designated as fourteen, trying to boost his comrade’s morale.

“I would have,” an unidentified voice chimed in. However, they failed to identify the source of the voice, unfortunately, they were not given enough time to even try to find out from where the mysterious voice had come from since it was quickly overshadowed by an aircraft suddenly revel’ng itself under their formation, matching their speed, after which the aircraft immediately pulled its nose up executing a Pugachev’s cobra manuever, bleeding its speed before the nose automatically returned at a level putting him behind the moving Esparian planes whose pilots started panicking and breaking the formation while still wondering where the fuck had that Bandit came from.

“BRRRRRRRRR” Rapid gunfire started erupting from Angel One-Three’s plane, targeting the aircraft designated as twelve, riddling it with bullets, shredding its wings and control surfaces into pieces.

“MAYDAY! MAYDAY! MAYDAY! MAYDAY!” The pilot number twelve urgently shouted at his radio but he didn’t wait for a response as he simultaneously pulled out the handle for his ejection seat. The seat was quickly ejected and he was propelled out of the plane that was now dropping like a brick.

As he continued to descend to the ground, the parachute on the seat finally opened, slowing down his fall, allowing the pilot to calm down. 

Calm down enough to be able to regain his composure and think of raising his head to see what was the thing that had shot him down and wasn’t even caught in their radars which were actively scanning for something in the sky.

And to his horror, the pilot twelve saw something that no amount of therapy in the world could heal. He watched as a single fighter plane messed with his fellow squadron members that were being plucked from the sky as if a grown man was fighting against a group of children, by using nothing but the gun on the aircraft.

The maneuvers the bogey was executing were something that he could never think of pulling while being under the pressure where four enemies were trying to kill him using missiles and guns, at least not without worrying about making a mistake and causing his own death. 

However, the bogey in front or rather above him pulled all of such maneuvers with the perfection and calmness of an experienced fighter which was something quite scary in itself. 

With a series of perfectly executed maneuvers, Angel One-Three found himself behind one of the four aircrafts and without any hesitation, he pulled the trigger, bathing the plane’s body in metal, breaking it apart and forcing the pilot to eject and letting him join number twelve in becoming a spectator as the he continued to inflict a lifetime of PTSD on the two of them.

Although the remaining three planes that were chasing him fired their missiles after they got a lock on him, the pilot of Angle One-Three didn’t release a single flare to divert them and simply pulled some ghostly maneuvers causing all the missiles that were following him to lose their locks on him before they headed into some random directions, damned to fly for eternity until the missiles propellant got empties and fall from the sky under the curse of gravity.

With now two spectators watching him, he put on a show so as to not embarrass his airforce. Angel One-Three kept his word since within exactly a thirty seconds period, he had completed shooting down the remaining aircrafts, the proof of it being the number of parachutes that donned the sky as the pilots who had successfully ejected themselves from their shot-down fighter jets.

After having downed all five of the planes within two minutes, Angel One-Three didn’t waste any time by lingering any more as he immediately veered into the direction where two of the missiles he had evaded earlier had gone, speeding and catching up to them within just thirty seconds followed by him shooting them down from the sky. 

If the missiles had continued on their flight trajectory, they would end up falling in populated areas in one of the cities that were closest to Esparia.

After unleashing a barrage of bullets on those two missiles, Angel One-Three swiftly headed for the next squadron that was designated for him to shoot down as soon as possible. 

However, this time, it won’t be a surprise attack and would be met with a prepared group who were anticipating the fact that someone was coming for them.

But, for the pilots who had ejected, they were somewhat relieved that they were alive, but were still suspended in disbelief with the aftermath of the unprecedented events they had experienced. Even with them being equipped with missiles, in a span of just two minutes, someone came and just by using gunfire, had shot them down. 

Then just as he had appeared, the pilot had left them and went to shoot down two of their missiles, followed by him leaving without even giving them a second look, before heading to a direction which they knew their fellow fighter squadron was at and couldn’t help but feel bad for them. 

Everything that had transpired had left them deeply astounded, the astounding aerial command their enemy had displayed, made them struggle to comprehend reality.

As concern for their fellow fighter squadron rose, all they could do was use their radios to transmit warnings to their comrades about the monster they had encountered and was heading their way. 

They recommended them to be prepared for an impending face-off but also suggested that running off would be the best option.

As they landed at the ocean’s surface, they lost all hope of any rescue coming for them. They knew that nothing was going to be passing through Eden’s airspace to come for them, rendering any assistance from the outside to be highly improbable. 

This was further substantiated when they saw a helicopter they had never seen in their lives, quietly coming to them while generating a sound so low that they would have thought that it was a helicopter that was passing very far away from them if not for seeing it approaching and getting closer.

The helicopter came near them and continued to hover about thirty meters above them and did nothing other than hover, making them wonder what it was doing if it wasn’t here to rescue them.

But their questions were soon answered as a boat approached them at a very high speed, clarifying that the helicopter was only acting as a marker of their location so that they would be rescued by the boats.

…..

While all of this was going on, something else was going on in the city that was about to become the victims of those two rogue missiles’ that were shot down, if they hadn’t been shot down by Angel One-Three.

At the moment, perched atop an elevated mountain on the outskirts of the city, a group of three people could be seen standing behind a tripod-mounted camera. This elaborated setup featured a camera with a super long lens on it, indicating its ability to capture distant scenes with extreme clarity.

The expressions on the faces of these reporters were filled with excitement and amazement at what they had managed to record. 

They had come to the mountain hoping to have the chance of recording the incursion of Esparian fighters as they invaded Eden’s airspace before the bombers so that they could clear Eden’s airspace. 

However, what they saw was beyond even their wildest dreams, something even the movies would have difficulty in making people believe that something like that could happen. T

he unfolding spectacle was nothing other than a pilot’s dream, to be so calm and dominant that despite being outnumbered five to one and yet still coming out victorious without having even a single damage done on his own plane or even reporting any casualties of the enemies soldiers, who were now being taken by a mysterious looking massive helicopter that appeared out of nowhere, and taking the enemy pilots away after they were rescued from the ocean by a fast-moving medium size marine vehicle, which itself didn’t resemble anything that had ever seen either. 

The trio of reporters knew that the world would soon be talking about their footage and how it was going to impact the war after they had released it. 

And since no deaths had occurred throughout the whole dogfight, they could upload the entirety of it without having to worry about any censorship at all.