After listening to Ample Time’s crazy plan, Falling Feather was convinced the guy had completely lost it from too much gaming.

But after a second thought, he realized Ample Time’s idea... Actually made a strange kind of sense.

After all, they were playing a game.

Thinking about it rationally... If the Main Mother Body could really be killed with ordinary weapons, the Federation would’ve done it long before the Post-War Reconstruction Committee ever existed. They wouldn’t have left this mess for people 200 years later to clean up.

In any case, they were out of options. They had to try.

Remembering the Titan he had seen earlier, the one corrupted by Slime Mold, Falling Feather took a deep breath, steadied the anxious Little Feather, and asked Ample Time seriously, “How do I get inside?”

The massive maw was still vomiting up dirt and debris, piles of earth and concrete rubble nearly forming a hill.

Night Ten’s electric shock might keep it retching for a while, but once it stopped, it would definitely retreat underground again.

The Main Mother Body had learned its lesson. They couldn’t expect it to fall for the same trick twice.

Ample Time grinned and looked toward the remains of the Lofty Cloud jet, now reduced to a metal stick.

He’d always teased Mosquito for his crazy designs, but one thing was certain, the man never cut corners on quality.

Take the plane, for instance. The wings were gone, sure, but the main frame was somehow still intact.

“Use this thing to go in.”

“Use this thing?!” Falling Feather blinked. “How the hell am I supposed to do that?”

Landing it safely had already been a miracle. If it could take off again, Newton would be shaking in his grave.

But Ample Time’s method wasn’t what he thought. It didn’t need to fly again!

“It’s simple.” Ample Time smiled. “Old White will lift the plane and throw it into the Main Mother Body’s mouth. All you need to do is close your eyes and floor the accelerator.”

“Planes don’t have an accelerator,” Falling Feather muttered blankly, “That’s the rudder...”

He stared at Ample Time, doubting he understood the first thing about flying.

Still... When he thought it through, the idea wasn’t completely impossible.

The engine hadn’t broken, it had flamed out from oxygen loss. If it hadn’t been damaged in the crash, it could theoretically restart.

Falling Feather tried to picture it.

It’d be like...

“Like a missile,” Old White said flatly, voicing his thoughts. He glanced at Ample Time. “You sure this’ll work?”

“I’m not sure,” Ample Time replied honestly. “Only our ace pilot can answer that.”

All eyes turned to Falling Feather.

He took a long breath and nodded. “I can try. But that thing’s not light. You really think Old White can lift it?”

Even stripped of ammo and nearly empty of fuel, the broken fuselage still weighed at least four or five tons.

That might be light for a jet, but for a human, even a super-soldier, it was absurd.

Can he really do it?

Falling Feather looked skeptically at the blood-covered Old White. The man just smiled calmly.

“Let’s try. With the exoskeleton’s assistance, I should manage.” 𝒇𝓻𝓮𝓮𝙬𝙚𝒃𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝒎

Seeing him nod, Falling Feather no longer hesitated. “Alright, let’s do it!”

The three of them got to work immediately.

Ample Time grabbed a shovel and started digging near the giant mouth, carving a rough slope out of the piled-up dirt.

Falling Feather climbed back into the cockpit, checked the fuel lines, and tried to restart the engine.

The moment his hands gripped the controls, that strange, vivid sensation returned, the feeling of being one with the plane.

Meanwhile, Old White walked around to the tail, raised his axe, and struck the half-intact vertical fin in one clean swing.

Sparks flew as the tail snapped off. Inside the cockpit, Falling Feather flinched. “What the hell are you doing?”

Old White scratched his helmet sheepishly. “Lightening the load... you weren’t using that part anyway.”

“...”

Fair point, though the tail hardly weighed anything.

Ample Time’s shout came from up front. “Move it! Night Ten won’t last much longer!”

“On it!” Old White bellowed, kept his axe, crouched beneath the fuselage, and gripped the underside with both hands.

With a roar, he heaved upward.

The Lofty Cloud shuddered violently, trembling like leaf in the wind.

Every muscle in Old White’s body bulged; veins stood out on his neck, his skin flushed red from skull to shoulder. His boots sank deep into the dirt.

Nearly five tons... He was challenging the limits of the human body.

Feeling the seat vibrate, Falling Feather instinctively held his breath, as if that might somehow make him lighter. Ample Time did the same.

Seconds dragged on like years, but the plane didn’t budge an inch, only trembled harder.

Ample Time’s heart clenched.

Too much... it’s impossible.

“Maybe we should...”

He didn’t finish.

“AAAHHHHH!” Old White roared, breaking his limit.

Blood filled his eyes; his hands sank into the stainless-steel skin, leaving two deep, inward dents.

With a primal scream, he lifted the plane clear off the ground.

Five tons of steel pressed down on him and every joint of his exoskeleton screaming under the strain. His bones creaked like overstressed cables, but he didn’t stop.

Without pausing, he staggered forward, charging up the slope. At the peak, he hurled the mangled plane toward the gaping abyss.

“Go!”

His final roar sent Falling Feather flying toward destiny, and drained the last of his strength.

Staring into the black, gaping throat, Falling Feather gritted his teeth, ignited the engine, and slammed both throttle and afterburner to maximum.

“GET IN THERE!”

A pale-blue arc flared in the darkness. The engine howled, spitting fire.

The wrecked Lofty Cloud came alive once more, unleashing its final burst of power.

Pulled by gravity and thrust together, it became a steel dagger plunging straight into the Main Mother Body’s writhing throat.

“Uuuuuuhhh!”

The creature’s scream shook the air. Its throat convulsed like it had swallowed a shard of glass.

But no amount of retching could stop an engine capable of accelerating tons of steel to Mach 3.

In every sense of the word, the ruined jet had become a missile.

Within three seconds, the flame sputtered out, but it was already fast enough.

The jet dove like a spear through the twisting esophagus, slamming straight into the depths of the Main Mother Body’s core.

“Holy shit! Falling Feather?!” Clinging to a tendril nearby, Night Ten gawked as the jet plunged into the scarlet mass.

He had no idea what Ample Time’s plan was, only that this boss was insane enough to swallow airplanes.

What kind of hack was that?!

Inside the cockpit, sand filled the air; Falling Feather barely avoided being buried alive. He couldn’t hear Night Ten’s shouts, nor had time to answer.

The Main Mother Body clearly sensed something wrong. Realizing the threat, the tendrils lining its stomach walls writhed like maddened serpents, lashing toward the jet.

Sharp appendages hammered against the fuselage with deafening clangs, but thankfully, the armor held.

Relieved, Falling Feather focused, scanning the surroundings, and spotted Night Ten clinging to a tendril nearby.

“Brother! Give me a hand!”

“Uh... how?!” Night Ten called back, bewildered.

“You can discharge electricity, right? Try frying these tendrils for me!”

Night Ten laughed helplessly. “Man, if I could, you think I’d still be hanging here?!”

Fair point, Falling Feather had no comeback.

Then Night Ten’s eyes suddenly lit up. “Wait, I’ve got an idea!”

“What idea?!”

“Your fuel tank! Where is it?”

“Right behind my seat...”

Before he even finished, Night Ten drew his pistol and fired two rounds into the fuselage behind him.

Startled, Falling Feather chuckled, “Bro, it’s steel! You think a handgun’s gonna do it?!”

Even a rifle wouldn’t scratch it!

“Ahem... It was worth a shot.”

Night Ten holstered the pistol, dug into his pocket, and pulled out a coin. His eyes brightened.

“Got it!”

It would be his first time trying it, but the firing algorithm was already coded into his implant.

Recalling the instructions, he bit the coin between his teeth, raised his right arm, and aimed his thumb at the vertical fighter like a gunsight.

Falling Feather blinked. “What the hell are you...”

Before he could finish, blue lightning danced along Night Ten’s arm. A thunderous crack split the air.

Several tendrils exploded, black fluid splattering across the cockpit.

A gaping hole tore through the wall of Slime Mold, oozing dark slime into the digestive chamber.

Falling Feather gaped at him.

“What the hell was that?!”

Night Ten grinned.

“Heh, it’s only my railgun! Cool, huh? Bit off on the aim though... Let me try again.”[1]

He bit down another coin, adjusted his aim, and began charging.

Electric arcs crackled around his body as static snapped through the air. The tendril he was clinging to twitched like it had been tased.

Watching the railgun shaking in his direction, Falling Feather’s heart nearly stopped.

“For god’s sake, aim properly...!”

Before he finished shouting, Night Ten released the coin.

1. :) ☜