NOVPUBNovember 17, 2025 — 11:36 AM
MOA Complex – Operations Deck
The base was alive with movement.
Crates were being cataloged, drone frames inspected, and packing manifests drafted. A dozen Overwatch personnel bustled across the tarmac and into the adjacent loading depot, working efficiently. Everything was being prepped for the second Japan mission. The return trip would involve more than just Thomas and a Stratotanker. This time, they'd be bringing gear.
A lot of it.
From the command balcony overlooking the operations deck, Thomas Estaris leaned against the railing, arms crossed, watching it all unfold. His thoughts weren't on the drone crates, or the relay towers, or the modular shelters being pulled from storage. They were on something bigger—how to get all this across the ocean.
Valkyrie One was good. Reliable. The Stratotanker had the range, the fuel capacity, and the endurance.
But it wasn't made to carry a full forward operations package.
Not drones. Not antenna arrays. Not eight tons of comms and hardened electronics.
He needed something else.
Something with real lift.
Something with a spine.
A name came to mind—one he had stared at several times over the past few months but never dared pull the trigger on.
C-17 Globemaster III.
A beast of the sky. Heavy-lift, long-range, battlefield-grade transport aircraft. Capable of carrying up to 77 tons of cargo. Used by air forces worldwide before the Collapse. Versatile. Durable. Designed to land on rough strips and fly through low-level radar environments.
And more importantly, capable of moving an entire forward support package to the Japanese highlands in one go.
The only problem was the price.
He brought up the interface privately in his mind.
C-17 Globemaster III
Status: Available
Cost: 800,000 Blood Coins
Cargo capacity: 77,000 kg
Range (loaded): 4,400 km
Crew: 3 minimum (pilot, copilot, loadmaster)
Requirements: One widebody-capable summoning zone
Summon Time: 12 seconds
Recommended: Enclosed hangar or runway
Thomas exhaled slowly through his nose, eyes still fixed on the tarmac below. He weighed the cost in his head.
The Blood Coin reserves were infinite at this point as they would do sorties to exterminate Bloom Nest, destroy congregations of zombies, basically, every extermination mission that would keep his bank gaining blood coins.
One C-17 would eliminate the need for staggered flights. It would let him haul the full Phase II package in a single mission. And once Japan was connected, it would serve as a persistent long-haul transport for future recon bases.
Thomas's hand hovered over the invisible interface.
Then he pressed it.
Confirm Purchase – C-17 Globemaster III
Confirmed.
The blueprint details vanished. The aircraft was now in his summon queue.
But he didn't summon it yet.
He had no intention of dropping an eight-story-high monster onto a live base at midday.
He would wait.
Wait until the sun was down.
Wait until the yard was clear.
And then… it would arrive.
November 17, 2025 — 10:29 PM
MOA Complex – Maintenance Hangar 4
The sky outside was moonless. Just a blanket of clouds drifting over Manila Bay and the dim flicker of solar floodlights humming across the complex. Most of the personnel had retired for the night. A few guards stood patrol. The rooftop recon teams were on standby rotation. But the hangars?
They were empty.
Specifically, Hangar 4—one of the larger maintenance bays cleared during the last equipment reshuffle. The space was big enough to hold multiple supply trucks or even a gunship.
Tonight, it held nothing.
And that made it perfect.
Thomas stood in the middle of the hangar, alone.
The doors were sealed. No cameras pointed inward. No active comms.
He looked up at the high, arched ceiling.
"Let's do this."
He triggered the summon.
A magic circle appeared before him.
And then, without ceremony, the C-17 Globemaster was there.
Materialized out of thin air like it had always existed.
It filled the hangar with its massive form—gray body, swept-back wings, twin vertical stabilizers, and a wide loading ramp. Its tail nearly brushed the reinforced roof. The lights along its undercarriage blinked into life, humming low as systems came online.
Thomas stepped back to take it all in.
The aircraft was pristine. Not a scratch on its hull. The engines were cold, but ready. The cockpit windows gleamed under the overhead lights. The landing gear sat flush against the deck.
It was real.
It was his.
And it was ready.
He circled the fuselage, checking the side hatches, the auxiliary compartments, and the rear loading ramp. Everything was locked. Functional. Authentic to the last rivet.
He reached the crew ladder near the cockpit and climbed.
Inside, the pilot's seat greeted him like an old friend.
He ran his hand over the throttle quadrant, then powered on the internal systems. A soft hum vibrated through the cabin as the avionics came online—altimeters, radar, digital diagnostics.
The plane ran a self-check.
All systems: Green.
He didn't need to test the engines tonight.
That would come later—only when they were ready to depart.
He sat back in the seat for a moment, letting the silence settle.
Everything was aligning. The Japanese connection. The equipment prep. Now the transport solution.
They had built something out of nothing.
And it was starting to move.
November 18, 2025 — 12:12 AM
MOA Complex – Inner Hallway, Restricted Sector
Thomas exited the hangar quietly. No one had seen the summon. No one needed to. In the logs, Hangar 4 would remain listed as "equipment staging," just like it had been the last few days.
As he walked down the corridor, his boots echoing faintly, his mind was already working through the logistics.
He would assign Marcus to oversee the C-17's loading over the next week.
They would prepare four modular relay towers, six autonomous drones, three weeks of fuel, and basic survival kits. Enough to make Phase II self-sufficient.
And on December 15, just before dawn…
They would take off.
Back across the sea.
Back to the Japanese mountains.
And this time, they wouldn't just be arriving with words.
They'd be arriving with a bang.
