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Chapter 93 - Argo Naval Base II

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Miraluz's POV

From within the heart of the thundercloud, the Dragon King gazed down on the crippled naval base.

He could taste their fear in the air, mingled with the scent of scorched steel and ozone.

"All units, attack," his voice rumbled through the telepathic link shared by the Jurassic Alliance.

It was not a request. It was a decree.

They came like a tide of teeth and fury.

Gray dove first.

Empowered by the Titan's blood coursing through her veins, her body moved faster, hit harder, and struck with a precision that belied her size.

She plummeted like a meteor, claws extended, 

BOOOOM!

The carrier deck exploded beneath her, steel folding like paper.

Gray roared in triumph as the colossal ship split along its keel, tilting helplessly into the bay.

Waves rose high enough to batter docked destroyers against their moorings.

From beneath the churning waters, a shadow surged upward, the Mosasaur.

With a lunge, it seized a cruiser's hull in its jaws and wrenched it sideways.

Crewmen tumbled screaming into the sea, their cries cut short as the beast devoured them whole.

On the flight line, desperate Marines opened fire with rifles and grenade launchers, old-school weapons in a digital age.

"Keep shooting! Aim for the eyes!" Sergeant Ramos bellowed over the chaos, knowing full well bullets would do little.

But in battle, orders were hope.

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POV – Lieutenant Kendra Holt, Naval Aviation

Her F-35 had died mid-roll on takeoff, the canopy locking tight as every system failed.

She'd bailed onto the deck and sprinted for the emergency weapons rack.

Through the smoke, she saw it, a vast winged shape blotting out the horizon. Miraluz.

Her hands trembled on the grip of a Stinger missile launcher.

"If I can just get a lock, "

FZZZT.

The targeting screen went black.

The EMP had even killed the missile's seeker.

She bit back a curse, dropping to cover as a gale-force wind hit the deck.

Above her, the Quetzalcoatlus screamed, a sound like tearing metal, before diving low over the ships.

Its wings churned the air into a hurricane.

Men and equipment alike were flung into the sea.

Giganotosaurus, Tyrannosaurus Rex, and Spinosaurus slammed down onto the docks one after the other, each impact shaking the earth.

Their eyes glowed with the wild hunger of Titan blood.

The Giganotosaurus tore into a line of Humvees, flipping them into the air like toys.

The Tyrannosaurus crushed a refueling truck in its jaws, the explosion lighting its teeth in molten orange.

The Spinosaurus moved with surprising speed, leaping from ship to ship, smashing decks with the weight of its sail-backed frame.

Onshore, Marines tried to regroup, falling back toward the bunkers.

"This way! Fall back to the, "

The sentence died in the corporal's throat as Gray burst from the smoke, landing among them like a god of war.

Her claws swept through men and concrete alike.

The battle was a symphony of destruction, each roar and scream another note.

But Miraluz was not here for slaughter alone.

This was a message to the human war machine.

His wings folded, and he dropped from the clouds, landing hard enough to crack the ground beneath his talons.

He drew in the energy stored within his reactor core.

Silver light burned between the scales along his back, gathering, focusing, 

Then came the strike.

Multiple clustered radiation beams erupted from him, each one a scythe of annihilation.

They cut through dockyards, airstrips, barracks.

Buildings evaporated in bursts of white light, their shadows burned into the scorched ground.

Explosions chased the beams, turning fuel reserves and munitions stores into pillars of flame.

The very air shimmered with heat and radioactivity.

Minutes, or maybe hours, passed before the storm began to thin and the sun's pale light returned.

The once-proud St. Argo Naval Base was gone.

Where ships had stood, twisted metal floated on blackened waves.

On land, only a blasted wasteland remained, pocked with craters and littered with the silent forms of those who had dared to resist.

No human heartbeat remained.

The news reached Washington within minutes.

In the White House Situation Room, the President's hands shook as he set the report down.

At the Pentagon, generals traded grim looks; they all knew reinforcements would be slaughtered before they could even fire a shot.

But doing nothing was unthinkable.

"Deploy a relief force," the Joint Chiefs ordered, their voices hollow.

They all knew the truth: it would be nothing more than deliveries of death.

But surrendering without the attempt would mean admitting the United States had bent the knee to the Dinosaur King.

And pride, however pitiful, was all they had left.

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