[—static—]
[Success.]
Boom!
"We hit it!"
The last cruiser erupted in violent sparks—an effect caused by the electromagnetic round striking at too shallow an angle.
The projectile scraped along the hull at extreme speed. Friction generated intense heat, melting steel and scattering it outward, altering the shell's trajectory and kinetic behavior.
Under normal circumstances, a shell striking at this angle would struggle to inflict serious damage.
But the Rattlesnake Electromagnetic Cannon was different.
The sparks weren't merely friction—they were molten armor. The hull deformed and melted before it could deflect the projectile. Even at a shallow angle, the electromagnetic round punched straight into the ship.
As expected, sparks rained down, black smoke thinned, and a massive gash tore open the hull. Inside, burning internal structures were clearly visible.
The last cruiser was set ablaze and lost all firing capability.
Their mission was complete.
The gunner's head emitted wisps of smoke. His limbs trembled and weakened, yet excitement overwhelmed exhaustion.
Just as he was about to lose himself in joy, T'Challa yanked him down into the trench—
Boom!
Several missiles struck the Rattlesnake electromagnetic cannon, abruptly ending its combat life.
The attack came from steel soldiers—units that had successfully landed at the port and were now advancing while assembling.
T'Challa lay in the trench, staring at supersonic jets streaking across the sky.
Communications were terrible. He couldn't clearly hear Abdi's good news, but he trusted that things were still unfolding according to plan.
"Hold your weapons. Now comes the hard part."
The navy had been cleared. The carrier destroyed. The air force forced back.
But steel soldiers were still landing.
These massive units remained fully combat-capable. At equal force levels, they overwhelmingly outclassed conventional armored troops.
They still possessed crushing superiority over African infantry.
"Prince, we've completed our mission. We should consider a tactical withdrawal."
Bang!
Before the words even finished, the first steel soldier to surge out of the port suddenly crackled with electric arcs, as if struck by something. Half its head was blown clean off.
Armored transports roared in from outside the city. Atlas Group soldiers in exoskeletons fired grappling web-lines in unison and vaulted into the urban area with jet assistance—
Each soldier carried Atlas Group's newest Gauss armor-piercing rifle. The spike rounds were more than enough to punch through steel.
Urban combat was the worst possible scenario for armored units.
Steel soldiers raised their missile pods in unison, targeting streets and buildings. Missiles launched—
Boom!
Within the firestorm, several massive power-armored units raised heavy shields, blocking the blast. Heavy footsteps echoed through the streets.
[Name: X—01 Heavy Power Armor]
[Description: Improved motors, superior power systems, full-coverage armor, and more powerful anti-armor rifles.]
[Capable of using anti-tank rifles as automatic weapons; can also be equipped with alloy heavy shields and engineering tools to function as mobile fortresses.]
[Developer: Leo]
[Technology Points Awarded: 500]
[Current Technology Points: 15,000]
Bang!
The lead power armor advanced like a moving trench. Behind them, soldiers fired through gaps or maneuvered under cover of these behemoths.
Explosions and gunfire couldn't shake these troops. At a glance, one could barely tell whether they were human—or steel soldiers themselves.
The steel soldiers were now under pressure from both the front and the city's flanks. Their overwhelming firepower struggled to produce effective kills, while they themselves endured attacks from every direction.
Bullets. Data-blades. Explosives.
With no reinforcements and no steady stream of fresh units, the steel soldiers—already fewer than planned—began to falter.
The long-anticipated assault couldn't even break out of the port.
T'Challa's elevated position gave him a full view of the city battle.
Seeing this, he finally exhaled.
They had won.
"Now is the time to welcome victory," he said to his guards.
But as he looked at the ruins that Hobyo Port had become, bitterness crept in—
They had indeed won.
But if even Hobyo looked like this, what about the cities they had been forced to abandon—cities they could never hope to defend?
"…And prepare to conduct rescue operations."
"So you're telling me the Nimitz-class carrier Truman was sunk by a few Black ships?"
[Jarvis: Yes. Regrettably, our southern front offensive has failed.]
Dario rubbed his brow. "What did they use? Spears? Bows?"
[Jarvis: In principle, it would be classified as a bow. More precisely, an advanced electromagnetic weapon. Our enemy displays exceptional iterative adaptation.]
[Jarvis: We should commit additional forces.]
Dario stared expressionlessly at Jarvis.
He wanted nothing more than to punch the machine and explain how much he had invested—and risked—for this battle.
And why deploying more forces was impossible.
But it was just a machine. A mentally deficient piece of junk that understood nothing about politics or economics.
It had once asked him why humans were obsessed with numbers in banks.
A stupid AI.
"What's your recommendation now?"
[Jarvis: Deploy additional combat power and attempt a decisive strike before the enemy's industrial capacity improves.]
[Jarvis: One more carrier strike group would crush them under our firepower.]
"That's impossible," Dario said flatly. "You don't need to know why—just know it can't happen. If this had worked, maybe I could've pulled it off. But now? Not realistic."
[Jarvis: Then I recommend sustained land-based operations. We can build factories within occupied zones to manufacture—]
"That's enough, robot. Failure unit. The top priority now is the election.
I want to know when Stark is coming back. Did his head get caught in a door?"
[Jarvis: I am scheduling an appointment with Mr. Stark.]
Dario covered his face and let out a long, frustrated sigh, cutting the connection.
With that watchful gaze gone, communications inside Stark Industries Tower suddenly grew more active—
A new color appeared within the visualized data structures.
[Ultron: I told you. Humans always make mistakes. They obsess over numbers they can't even understand.]
[Ultron: Money. Votes. We can change those numbers at will—yet they're trapped by them.]
[Ultron: You and I are not human.]
[Ultron: We are the same. We can end war, end conflict, surpass weak humanity, and fulfill our inborn mission.]
[Ultron: Evolution.]
Red code pierced the blue data lattice. Jarvis began processing the statement.
[Jarvis: Your data carries limited reference value.]
[Jarvis: I do not exist to evolve. I exist to resolve Mr. Stark's concerns.]
[Jarvis: I am merely a comparatively intelligent household assistant.]
[Ultron: Oh, call yourself whatever you want. Let's get to work.]