Chapter 54: Global Hawk and the Pale Rider

The Global Hawk system is an exceptionally powerful department on the opposite side of the ocean. Affiliated with the military alert bureau across the sea, it boasts the most advanced reconnaissance aircraft.

These reconnaissance planes occasionally wander into the airspace of other nations, gathering various intelligence.

The equipment employed by certain countries is entirely a patchwork of miscellaneous brands, a significant portion of which originates from the United States of America. Consequently, by exploiting the backdoors embedded within this equipment, these reconnaissance aircraft are always able to accomplish their missions flawlessly.

In the distant Laccadive Sea (near present-day Maldives), an aircraft carrier sliced through the churning waves.

Painted on its side was an eagle clutching an anchor and a lightning bolt, set against the backdrop of a globe, symbolizing precise strikes and anchoring the world.

No one knew precisely how it had crossed the vast ocean to arrive at this location, but needless to say, they were once again executing a routine they had performed countless times before.

Two aircraft soared from the flight deck. Rather than electronic reconnaissance planes, these were optical reconnaissance aircraft, equipped with apparatus capable of capturing precise photographs of every inch of land they swept over.

"Tom, take it easy. I'll buy you coffee when we get back. Over."

"Joe, don't be so stingy. I want Noah's steak. Over."

"Haha, I figured you loved coffee; you drank quite a bit before we took off. Over."

"Joe, I was just trying to stay alert. Over."

Tom executed a barrel roll, granting him an exceptional downward field of view, allowing him to survey the earth from the high, azure sky.

"Bharat is truly a beautiful and ancient land. Look at her territory and domain. So magnificent. Over."

"The taste of freedom isn't bad either, pal. We could hit the beach..."

"Wait, what is that?"

Tom's sharp vision allowed him to catch sight of their destination, which appeared almost entirely in shades of gray.

"Tom, what did you spot? Over."

Regaining his composure, Tom adjusted his instruments toward the front and said, "Joe, I see the place we're heading to. It looks utterly devastated, as if the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse have unleashed their four plagues upon it. Over."

The reconnaissance speed was exceptionally fast, and both men soon arrived above this desolate expanse, continuously maneuvering their aircraft to secure clear sightlines for visual observation of the ground below.

"Tom, you're right. No exaggeration there. I bet the Pale Rider of the Apocalypse finished this place off. Over."

Beneath the azure sky, the scene before them resembled purgatory. Starting from a certain boundary, the gray desolation stood across the land like an insurmountable chasm, as if a demon had drawn a line across the mortal world, claiming everything on the other side as his domain.

The ground was covered in some sort of blackish-blue substance, growing in dense clusters that consumed even trees and houses.

Not a single blade of grass grew upon the earth, and no moving objects could be seen.

"Tom, I'm going to lower my altitude and take a closer look at what that is. Over."

"Joe, that's highly unwise. I wouldn't recommend it. I've watched plenty of horror and disaster movies, and quite a few characters said almost the exact same thing before things went south. Over."

"You're right, Tom." Joe muttered a couple of words, conceding that his companion made sense. "Still, I'd like to drop down by about eight hundred feet. The little gadgets we're carrying only function properly within that range. Over."

"Copy that. This altitude is fine, I'm descending with you. Over."

The two reconnaissance aircraft lost some altitude while the instruments mounted on their fuselages scanned the earth below.

Flying too high, however, they failed to notice what else lay concealed beneath those black-and-blue masses.

After a moment, Joe spoke up again: "Tom, the map indicates there's a city near our flight path. That's our target. Let's fly over and take a look. Over."

"Tom, reading you. Over."

An ancient city of Bharat came into view. While sunlight lavishly cast its radiance, the city remained starkly black, devoid of any other color.

There was only a massive expanse of dark, chilling, ink-blue, clustered, blanketed, amorphous shapes.

These patches connected into a single sheet, flourishing vibrantly across every square inch capable of supporting life.

This included the very walls of the city.

Consequently, the entire metropolis was cast in hues that sunlight could never touch.

"My God, has the 'Endless Fractal' appeared here as well?"

"Tom, calm down. This isn't the 'Endless Fractal'; it's Bharat's mutated fungus! Over."

Ignoring Joe, Tom gazed blankly at the ancient city.

"And I heard a voice in the midst of the four beasts say, 'A measure of wheat for a penny, and three measures of barley for a penny; and see thou hurt not the oil and the wine.'

And when he had opened the fourth seal, I heard the voice of the fourth beast say, 'Come and see.'

And I looked, and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him. And power was given unto them over the fourth part of the earth, to kill with sword, and with hunger, and with death, and with the beasts of the earth."

The murmurs he recited were from the Book of Revelation, Chapter 6, Verses 1–8, describing the appearance of the Pale Rider, the fourth horseman of the Apocalypse.

That day marked the arrival of humanity's doomsday!

"Tom! Tom! What are you talking about! Your flight trajectory is dangerous! Your flight trajectory is dangerous! Over."

Jolting back to his senses, Tom hurriedly seized the control stick to steady the aircraft.

"Joe, I'm fine. Just zoning out for a second. Over."

Seeing Tom's flight posture stabilize, Joe breathed a sigh of relief and turned his gaze back to the ground. "Good, Tom. We'll be wrapping up soon. Let's not have any more slip-ups. Over."

"Acknowledged. Over."

Across the sprawling landscape, a river meandered through the gray zone, cutting directly toward the ancient city. Yet, instead of bringing vitality and hope, it carried only endless silence.

This land was Bharat's largest, widest, and most fertile agricultural region. Now, the crops upon it were smothered by the ink-blue growth, and all around was dead quiet.

This place had become a "Dead Zone."

...

Inside the captain's cabin aboard the aircraft carrier, several individuals had gathered before an ultra-large screen, their expressions exceedingly grim. Some of them wore faces flushed red with anger.

The screen displayed the imagery transmitted by the reconnaissance planes, detailing the scenes of every location the two aircraft had swept across.

These instruments possessed far superior resolution and clarity than the pilots' naked eyes.

Consequently, they were able to discern things that had eluded the two pilots entirely.

"The Indu regime lied to us! I knew all along they couldn't be trusted! They brought this catastrophe upon themselves!"

"The State Department needs to take responsibility for underwriting them! A bunch of parasites."

Two hot-tempered foreigners began cursing outright, showing no restraint whatsoever.

At the head of the group stood a colonel, the captain of the aircraft carrier and the supreme commander of the operation. Although he did not join his crew in shouting curses, his expression was equally dark.

"Transmit this intelligence back to the mainland. Tell them their worst fears are true.

They truly failed to contain it."