Chapter 648: Chapter 648: What’s The Situation? (Part 3)

Several minutes passed while the UPSDF soldiers processed them one by one.

The equipment they carried unfolded into compact scanning platforms and handheld diagnostic devices lined with thin blue displays.

One operative moved methodically between them while another monitored results through a tablet attached to his forearm.

Charles had been checked first.

Naturally.

The moment they confirmed his identity, attention around him subtly shifted.

One soldier scanned his eyes while another pressed a device against the side of his neck, monitoring internal readings.

Charles barely reacted through any of it. He sat slumped against the side of the striker with one wing hanging weakly behind him while dried blood flaked from his collar whenever the rotor wash struck too hard.

Then came Olynk.

He looked worse.

The massive man struggled to even remain upright while they scanned him. His breathing dragged unevenly through his chest and his pupils occasionally failed to focus properly.

One soldier had to physically keep him seated still while another checked the injuries around his torso and neck.

Don came after.

The scanner passed slowly over his chest and face while another operative checked his eyes for infection response.

The dried blood coating parts of his arms and shirt made the process take longer.

Finally came K-4.

Unlike the others, he never relaxed during the screening.

Even while injured, his posture remained rigid. His eyes tracked every movement around him while one operative scanned the wound in his shoulder and another inspected the damage around his pierced hand.

The soldier performing the scan visibly noticed the muscle density beneath the torn uniform sleeve but wisely chose not to ask questions.

Once the process finished, they were guided inside the striker and strapped into reinforced seating along the cabin walls.

The soldiers that had occupied the transport remained outside on the rooftop aside from the gunners, sniper teams and equipment personnel.

Through the still-open side door, Don could see another striker beginning its descent toward the rooftop, likely replacing the unit staying behind.

Then their helicopter lifted.

THOOOMM THOOOMM THOOOMM!~

The rooftop shrank beneath them while the city stretched outward again.

And the moment they began pulling away from the tower, Don felt it.

That weight.

Gone.

Not completely.

But enough.

His body leaned deeper into the seat while his head turned toward the reinforced window beside him. Beyond the scratched glass, Santos City burned beneath the evening sky.

Entire sections of the city smoked black beneath spreading fires. Some buildings still flickered with active explosions deeper inside them while others had collapsed partially into surrounding streets.

Dead bodies littered intersections in clusters large enough to resemble piles of discarded mannequins from above.

Elsewhere, movement still remained.

Huge hordes surged through roads and alleyways below, many abruptly changing direction the moment the striker formation passed overhead. The sound drew them like starving animals.

Far below, Don occasionally spotted superhumans still fighting.

Some wore official combat gear.

Others fought in torn civilian clothing soaked dark with blood.

One man standing atop an overturned bus launched arcs of blue electricity into a charging group before disappearing beneath smoke as the striker moved past.

Further away, a woman crashed through the upper floor of a burning office building while dragging some enormous infected creature through the shattered wall alongside her.

The city still hadn’t stopped dying.

And despite finally escaping that rooftop...

Don’s mind refused to fully relax.

Because the system notification still hadn’t appeared.

Sometimes it delayed.

That happened.

But every single time it did, something inside him instinctively stayed on edge afterward. Like waiting for a second blade after surviving the first one.

Inside the cabin, nobody spoke.

Only pilot chatter occasionally filtered through the communication systems.

"Valkyrie-Four to Command, package secured. Exfil proceeding north corridor."

Static crackled briefly.

"Copy Valkyrie-Four. Corridor remains active. Hostile movement concentrated sectors five through nine."

"Roger that. Gunships maintaining suppression."

The co-pilot adjusted something overhead before speaking again.

"Phoenix formation rerouting toward central district. Additional retrieval units inbound."

"Confirmed. Maintain altitude and proceed to secondary operation after drop-off."

"Copy Command."

Their voices remained calm.

Routine.

As though none of this chaos mattered.

Despite the unease clawing quietly through the back of his mind, Don eventually let his eyes close.

Beside him, Charles did the same.

His breathing remained shallow while his head leaned slightly against the restraint behind him. One hand rested weakly against his lap while the remaining wing twitched occasionally beneath the dim cabin lighting.

K-4 however stayed exactly as he was.

Forward.

Alert.

Even seated, he leaned slightly toward the cabin center rather than resting back fully. His eyes moved constantly between the soldiers, exits and windows while one hand flexed faintly against his knee every so often.

The UPSDF personnel inside remained equally quiet.

The gunner still operated from the open side section while the two equipment operatives sat near the rear compartment without speaking.

Minutes blurred together.

Don kept his eyes closed through most of it.

Every now and then, distant explosions vibrated faintly through the striker hull.

Occasionally he heard muffled gunfire or the distorted howl of something far below. But none of it sounded urgent enough to concern the pilots.

Not with how relaxed their chatter stayed.

Eventually the helicopter began descending.

The subtle angle shift caused Don’s eyes to reopen.

At first he only saw large floodlit rooftops approaching through the window.

Then recognition hit immediately.

SHQ.

The massive structure spread beneath them like a military fortress dropped into the center of the city.

Floodlights illuminated multiple landing zones across the rooftops while a few UPSDFsoldiers moved rapidly between sections below.

Smoke drifted across portions of the compound though the structure itself still stood intact.

Inside the cockpit, another transmission came through.

"Valkyrie-Four, LZ secured. You are clear to land."

"Copy tower," the pilot answered immediately. "Beginning final descent now."

The co-pilot added moments later, "Ground teams already in motion. Watch rotor spacing on pad two."

"Understood."

The striker lowered steadily.

THOOOMM!~

Landing gear hit the helipad hard enough for the cabin floor to vibrate beneath everyone’s boots.

The other side door opened immediately afterward.

The equipment operatives moved out first carrying scanners and sealed cases while the gunner remained seated near his mounted weapon.

The door slammed shut behind the exiting soldiers moments later while the pilots finally powered down portions of the striker.

Nearby, another helicopter already sat with its rotors nearly finished spinning down.

Soldiers poured from it rapidly.

Most immediately rushed toward the main rooftop entrance leading deeper into SHQ while carrying equipment crates, weapons and medical packs.

Two however stayed behind near the helipad perimeter and established defensive positions facing outward from the rooftop.

Rifles raised.

Watching.

Waiting.

The rest disappeared inside.

Don stared through the side window quietly. ’Just what the hell is going on?’

He already understood SHQ likely sat at the center of everything.

That much had become obvious long ago.

But the deeper question stayed lodged in his mind harder than ever now.

What happened here?

And more importantly—

Why?

Several more minutes passed.

Neither inside the striker nor across the nearby rooftop did much conversation occur.

Don’s hearing had almost fully recovered now, enough for him to notice the absence of active combat around the compound itself.

No gunfire nearby.

No screaming.

Only occasional helicopter arrivals across distant sections of SHQ grounds.

More soldiers continued deploying across separate rooftops and lower courtyards while search teams disappeared into nearby buildings attached to the main structure.

After another minute, the helicopter parked beside theirs finally lifted back into the air.

THOOOMM THOOOMM THOOOMM!~

Its rotors faded upward into the darkening skyline.

Then another sound approached.

Lower.

Smoother.

Different.

Don frowned slightly and turned toward the noise instinctively.

This helicopter barely sounded like the UPSDF strikers at all.

It moved quieter through the air despite its speed.

And the moment it emerged fully into view above the compound lights, Don immediately understood why.

Because it was silver.