[https://em.wattpad.com/dbb6a47ee17fe64667180fc2e410564d5a19d2bf/68747470733a2f2f37382e6d656469612e74756d626c722e636f6d2f32356636623530663937323333353965396263633832613438663861326634382f74756d626c725f6f77707472357a46666c31777661726d326f315f3530302e6a7067?s=fit&h=360&w=720&q=80]
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"Whoopsy daisies!"
"PILOT! YOU'RE TOO CLOSE TO THE FIRING RANGE! PULL UP! PULL UP!"
Up in the sky was a flying fortress know as a C-130. It was a military gun ship that excelled in air-to-ground artillery supremacy, sported heavy armor, and flew on prideful wings supported by four massive propellers. It was one of the few military-oriented aircrafts that still relied on old fashion Diesel Engine and Bladed propellers in an Age of Sonic Turbines and Hover Jets.
The flying fortress made a straight beeline through the sky, avoiding the various flak explosive that erupted into a series of colored clouds that blazed harder then neon lights in a rave party. Due to the weather being cloudy, it was easy for the attack from below to easily miss their target. For the record, it was flying the colors of a certain Star Spangled Banner.
"Pilot! We got incoming! Spin around so we can light these f**kers."
"Use the 50 mm. That thing's effective on British Dragons."
"No, the 90 mm. It's the big@ss Aztec Bats that we need to worry about!"
The C-130 Gunship made a steep tilt to the side. It gave a smooth turn off a straight path and leveled ou for the guns to see the figures chasing after them through the clouds. A horde of snake-like monsters with dragon like wings and scorpion tails. Aztec Dragons.
"Okay, you got visual. Light em up."
"FOR AMERICAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
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*RA-TA-TATA-TATA-TATA-TATA-TATA-TATA-TATA-TATA-TATA-TATA-TATA-TA*
The flying fortress opened a panel in the side and the barrel of a 90 mm fast-shooting cannon was firing like crazy. It delivered a full volley of explosive rounds with timed triggers to erupt in mid air. It knocked out the flock of Aztec Dragons and their scaly Scorpion tails out of the sky.
"Bogies are down, repeat bogies are down. Moving onto the next lap point!"
"Okay, dokey, smokey."
The C-130 went back to its original path and continued to fly south. As it was close to dawn, the crown of the sun could be seen peeking out. It started to light up a war-torn Manhattan... which had been modified into a form of -air-based race track.
There were streams of rainbow light that floated above in the air in parallel pairs. They were turning and curving in sync, as if imitating a race track. The C-130 followed through the span of those rainbow fences without hesitation.
"CONTACT! Saxon Dragon and Norse Serpent come up our Starboard!"
The flying fortress carrying the colors of a Star Spangled nation bucked to one side of the rainbow fenced airway, to avoid two massive dragons of different origin that sliced out from under a layer of clouds.
The two sentient beings of diamond-hard armor and bat-like wings took to the sky, flipping this way and that as if mimicking a dog-fight between the F-14s and the MIGs during the rage of the Cold War. They exchanged firepower of crisscrossing breath rays of flames and breath rays of ice. Whenever they collided, they exploded into a cloud as if a flurry of chaff countermeasures.
"Pilot! Adjust attack angle by 10 degrees Northwest and elevate to 10 000 feet. Prepare to engage."
"Copy that Gunny, you have clear sight on the target. Fire at will."
"Priming the 50 mm. Commence firing!"
Another long barrel of a 90 mm cannon extended out from the side of the C-130's belly. It adjusted its angle, calculated the distance, wind resistance, and the Coriolis Effect of movement adjacent to a spinning platform. The safety flicked off and the button was pressed.
*BTOOM*
The first shot tore through the big green dragon of English Descent into overcooked hamburger.
*BTOOM*
The second shell pierced through the heart of the flying Norse snake and dropped it along with its enemy.
"Confirmed, all targets eliminated."
"Good Kill. Good Kill."
Once the sky was clear of any other life, the C-130 spurred on its engines for the final push.
"Hey, Pilot. When this is all over, what do you plan on having?"
"Ha-ha-ha. Granny Smith's Apple Pie."
"Amen to that Brother."
The sun rose. It was not waking up and unfurling itself from under the blanket called horizon. It slowly lifted itself to stand up... and eventually floated over the lines of the ocean. The light shining down revealed the entire race course, their dragon racers, and the smoke and fire coming out of evacuated Manhattan. Up in the lead was that flying fortress C-130 running on four propellers despite being in an age of sonic turbines and hover jets. It was about to cross the finish line.
To be honest. No one knew how this war started. Not a single country attacked or was attack, and economy had been stable for both the side of science and the side of magic and mythology that has been kept secret by the world's government.
Rumor says, some dumb@ss politician up and asked 'if every nation were to bet a dragon in a race, who would win?' When it came to that Star-Spangled Nation... what better dragon to have than a flying gunship loaded with 80 mm anti-ship rounds.
"Hey, Gunny. What's the Navy's policy in a tactical fight?"
"Send in the Marines!"
Oorah indeed.