UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, WASHINGTON STATE, SEATTLE, DECEMBER 10TH, 2025
(3RD POV)
They had been told that the massive swathes of land-- and sky which was the continental US would be a challenge.
A battle that would test the superabundance of skills they had been honing for years, gaining experience on all fronts of the war for dominance of the planet.
She and so many others were promised riches beyond imagination, land, money, and anything a person could think of; her supreme leaders offered them a hero's welcome once America had-- been-- dethroned and the true peace the anthros had envisioned achieved.
After fighting in the frigid skies of the Russian Arctic, the vast island chains of Indonesia, and the scorching Australian outback since the beginning of the war all those years ago, the supreme anthro race always emerged victorious.
Obliterating all who stood in their way, or putting down those who dared testify against the iron resolve of the True World Legion Imperium, which was-- foreordained to make the world whole. And sanctify those unruly humans who said 'no' as a consequence of their foolish efforts to fight against the inevitable.
Kalatha Midnight, of the first combat air battalion of the Imperuim air fighting Legion, watched on with charring detestation as hundreds of the damned USAF fighters eradicated countless of her brethren.
A name that once instilled fear in her human enemies, and hope and admiration to her fellow anthros; was now reduced to a gasping, quivering jaguar inside the crushing coffins of the cockpit.
Their once strong spearhead of an attack over the named city of Seattle had crumbled, and they were sent into orderless disarray as they frantically zipped across the sky that roared in battle.
Her glimmering golden eyes raced to the son of bitches who grounded long-serving souls that had been under her command.
The USAF pilots made stern and sharp movements in the sky, with every turn they performed, every missile they launched, and every iron formation executed-- was etched in purpose.
No actions were-- wasted on mundane movements that gave them zero advantages.
Which resulted in the many deaths of her brothers in arms.
A true pinnacle of a lethal fighting force that amalgamated to form the perfect fighting machine that the arrogant human nation had been so loud and proud about for years.
As an Airwoman herself, she respected the demonstration of skill on exhibition before her, that, she couldn't deny. But it still didn't change their situation or the devoted feelings of anger she harbored in her heart.
The last screams and cries or the last cursing of the humans ranged over the net and met her ears as her comrades were deduced to a fate of being trapped and killed inside the framework of melting metal and plastic. The complicating electronic devices inside the cockpits bursting into flames and sparks while the smell of suffocating sulfur filled the cabin.
Or those disabled in combat helplessly plunged thousands of feet from the sky, given mere seconds to evaluate the remaining moments of life they were given before they crashed into the city below that devastated buildings and the local infrastructure in gargantuan fireballs.
The unexploded weapons of the fallen Imperium aircraft contributed to the fuel of tremendous explosions that shook the Earth. Brilliant orange flames soared high into the sky from the scalding wreckage. The flames extended outward like red hands, inviting any remaining comrades to suffer the same fate as their fallen allies.
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FREEDOM HAS A VOICE
ActionEveryone always thought that the war would stay far from home, that our mighty, navy, air force, and army would keep them far away, the war was just one of the many things where watched from our phones thousands of miles away of where we heard of th...
