Extraordinary Pedigree.

Chapter 1081 "My name is Om Messiah, you can also call me Op."

The gunfire continued, and two third-generation fighter jets continued to circle overhead, like two sharp arrows nailing the sky, accurately and ruthlessly locking onto every sign of resistance on the ground.

Their turbines roared like beasts, and their railgun muzzles flashed with cold blue energy as they dove back and forth, firing in bursts.

The ground was scorched earth, and among the wreckage of steel and flames, the few remaining Iron Men had almost nowhere to escape. They were battered and bruised, their paint charred, their power core alarms flashing, and their broken wings and shattered shells trembled in the gale.

The yellow sports car, transformed into an iron man, crouched on a pile of burning steel slag. His arm was broken, and the optical lens of his right eye had gone out, but he still looked up steadfastly at the two Hunter planes circling in the sky.

His mechanical face displayed a human-like emotional processing module activation response, not an exaggerated imitation, but a real and poignant expression of despair.

The next second, he turned to look at his remaining comrades.

Among them were former maintenance trailers, search and rescue patrol vehicles, and a few engineering units that were simply transport modules. Now, they were all covered in ashes and ruins.

The yellow Iron Man took a deep breath, and the speaker in his chest resonated with a powerful and resonant sound:
"Fellow comrades..."

"After today, we may no longer be known by our names, but this is not a battle to win, but a battle against functionalism, a battle against the runaway Maxwellian society!"

"We will no longer choose silence, nor will we back down, for those compatriots who have never been born, for the Iron Man brothers behind us, and for those Iron Man whose deformed gears have been removed by the Functionalist Committee!"

"Activate backup hidden power now, prepare for mechanical overclocking, and fight them to the death!"

Upon hearing this, the other five Iron Men did not shout or cry out. They simply raised their hands silently and slowly and heavily pressed the heavy, broken metal hand onto the deformed gear on their chests.

The gears turn, and an ancient but resolute starting procedure begins to unfold.

Their energy modules popped out from their concealed positions, emitting a "click-click-click" overload sound effect. Bright red warning lights flashed like blood inside their chests, and streams of energy leaped between their skeletons.

Mechanical overclocking mode is about to be activated—they will push themselves to the limit of their combat potential at the cost of burning out their last spark.

This is not about winning, but about telling this mechanized tyrannical world that they once existed and burned.

At this moment, Xia Xiu stood atop the broken tower a hundred meters away, knowing it was time for him to make his move.

"It's my turn to make an appearance."

He slowly stretched his muscles and bones, his body emitting a subtle yet steady metallic vibration, like a sacred artifact coming back to life.

The [Broken Spark] burned fiercely deep within the chest cavity, and the core of the God of Myriad Machines' authority released informational flames like supercritical fuel.

"Hmm... let me think. Is the other side a third-generation fighter jet? Then I'll transform into a fighter jet and have some fun with them."

Before he finished speaking, azure flames suddenly appeared around him.

It was not a physical flame, but pure information light elements, like flames formed by a torrent of data, in the form of blocks, matrices, and code chains, burning and pulsating in a geometric pattern, covering the surface of his body.

Xia Xiu stood atop the storm-swept sky, data flames surging like tides along his limbs, each burning data cube seeming like a divine oracle reshaping his form. A deep blue information matrix rapidly spread along his spine, like crystals growing, its outline emerging—

next moment.

[Click click click click—click!!]

A roaring mechanical structure unlocked from his body, the skeleton reassembled, the wings unfolded, the air intake slid out, the cockpit cover closed from his chest, and the tail thrusters extended, locked, and ignited.

The light flow wove a perfect aerodynamic shell for the triangular stealth machine on his body surface, making his body resemble an eagle descended from hell.

[Shattered Spark - Tactical Appearance Completed]

At this moment, Xia Xiu had completely transformed into a futuristic heavy stealth air superiority fighter, and the tactical system was automatically activated in the cockpit.

[Collaborative System Launched]

[Radar signature blocking: Activated]

[Sisyphus Thrust Vector: Ready]

[Fire control system synchronization: Completed]

[PL Beyond Visual Range Air-to-Air Missile - Loading Complete!]

[YJ Tactical Ground-Attack Missile - Loading Complete!]

He maneuvered the aircraft, slightly side-sliding into the clouds, then the engine roared deeply, like a whale's cry shaking the heavens, as he swooped down toward the war zone.

……

……

Meanwhile, Mudfuch had also arrived at the battlefield, forming a formation with two other fighter jets and four Apache helicopters. The still-burning, high-temperature exhaust plume on its underside indicated that it had arrived at full speed without slowing down.

The sound of a clay furnace echoed through the functionalist military channel:
"Seventh Air Combat Squadron in position, Eagle Formation tactics activated."

"The three main fighter jets ascended in sequence and locked onto the ground targets in a coordinated fire control system."

"The Apache formations suppressed the front ranks, luring the rebels to concentrate their firepower."

"I am responsible for high-orbit strikes and beyond-visual-range support."

All air units transmitted signals back.

"understand!"

The three fighter jets then executed maneuvers according to actual flight formation tactics—the wings slid down and the main engine rose to form a triangular suppression grid, locking the car below into the fire control matrix.

Just as they were preparing to launch the missile, a red warning suddenly popped up on the tactics panel.

[Enemy missiles! Enemy missiles! Enemy missiles!!!]

Before the think tank could complete its heat source tracking and analysis, a missile flying overhead struck the belly of the wingman on the left side of the mud furnace.

boom--! !

The entire fighter jet was instantly reduced to fragments in the violent burst of light, shrapnel carrying residual heat whistling through the air, even scorching the left wingtip that had pierced through the clay furnace. He jolted violently, pulling up with all his might, shouting in shock and fury:
"Enemy attack! Cloaked units are attacking us."

"Quickly! Avoid movement! Spread out!"

But before his shouts had even faded, a second wave of missiles arrived.

The PL and YJ series missile groups, engraved with tactical numbers and precision bullet propulsion mechanisms, streak across the sky like the Grim Reaper's scythe.

The missile penetrated the electronic warfare jamming layer, ignoring the flares, and headed straight for the target.

"Signal lock failed! The other side has engaged in active interference!"

"Apache is evading—"

Boom! Boom! Boom boom boom—!
Four Apache helicopters exploded almost simultaneously, none escaping. Their tail rotors tore apart, their main cabins shattered, their energy lines burned through, and they plummeted to the ground like shredded paper.

Only the mud furnace and another fighter jet remained in the air, struggling to climb and attempt to jump to a higher orbital level to escape.

But the missiles relentlessly pursued them like the Grim Reaper.

next second...

boom--! !

Another fighter jet was also accurately hit, exploding into a shower of metallic fire in the thunderstorm clouds.

Now, only Mud Furnace remains in the air.

He frantically pulled the joystick, and the screen was filled with distorted warning data streams. The fire control system crashed, the radar flickered, and the communication frequency bands went blank.

"Requesting backup! This is a mud furnace, and I'm in the midst of... *splat*..."

Then he discovered that the channel signal was completely blocked.

[WARNING: Electron Interference Level: Ω]

External connection: missing

Location tracking failed.

They were even deprived of the right to report deaths.

A layer of bluish-purple data mist rose from the control panel of the clay furnace, a signal feedback of the resonance of fear within the spark. He felt a long-forgotten emotion—fear.

A silent, invisible, and extremely oppressive enemy is locking onto him.

But he had nowhere to escape.

The mud furnace had gone mad; the entire fighter jet was like a frightened beast, as if trying to break free from all gravitational pull and soar into the sky, where there was no end in sight.

All around was a vast and dark sky filled with thunderstorms, but the enemy followed like a shadow.

He can't see.

The radar array remained blank, the electronic warfare system provided no feedback, and the electro-optical tracking module was completely silent.

But he heard it.

That sudden sound of the sound barrier breaking.

--boom! ! !

A violent explosion of air created shockwaves, like a heavy hammer slamming into the embers of the clay furnace, and then he finally saw the enemy.

A futuristic fighter jet, as dark as night and with sharp outlines, hovered head-on three hundred meters in the air directly in front of him.

There was no concealment, no hiding or cover.

The other person appeared naked before him, like a hunter standing before his prey, announcing the end of his fate.

That wasn't a tactical maneuver; it was an insult.

The clay furnace was completely ablaze, and he furiously switched to the wide-area channel, roaring:

"Are you fucking kidding me?!?!"

The next second, he emptied the entire Iron Man adaptive-generated bomb bay.

Fourteen high-speed air-to-air missiles burst forth like raindrops, covering all possible maneuvering paths in the air, attempting to overwhelm the shadowy enemy with sheer density.

But he underestimated the presence of his opponent.

Instead of turning away from the barrage of comments, Xia Xiu calmly pulled the nose of the plane back.

Swish——! !

The aircraft suddenly leaped up, tilting backward at a supercritical angle of attack. The terrifying angle of more than 90 degrees was completed in an instant, and the entire missile swarm missed its target, exploding out of control behind it into a meaningless shower of meteors.

Before Mud Furnace could recover from the shock, he saw the enemy's fighter jet pull back, lock on, and launch without slowing down.

One shot is enough.

Swish—whoosh—

The missile shattered the sound barrier, like death kissing the forehead.

He saw himself in the reflective glass inside the cabin—the core of the spark was trembling, the deforming gears were spinning idly, and the interface of the meningeal block was flashing wildly.

Then, everything returned to nothingness.

boom--! ! !
The explosion did not produce much debris, because the temperature and penetrating power of the blow turned the entire mud furnace, including the core ignition and neural modules, into ashes.

In the sky, only a trail of embers and the afterimage of electromagnetic currents remained.

The black fighter jet, on the other hand, seemed to have completed an elegant final performance, performing several flawless rolls and dives in the thunderclouds, drawing a spiral trajectory like an aerial ballet.

Finally, it slowly adjusted its posture and glided down from the sky to the ground, landing on the car-and-iron-man formation—like a god descending to redeem the suffering people.

The thunderstorm in the sky subsided temporarily, but a deeper tension permeated the ground.

It was a fear stemming from a hierarchical instinct.

Of the six rebels from the car-like Iron Man, the one formed from the yellow sports car stood at the forefront, his shoulders still trembling slightly from the aftershocks of the fierce battle. His gaze was fixed on the sky, where a fighter jet, resembling a shadowy falcon, was swooping down from a high altitude.

Not only him, but the other five also gripped their weapon modules tightly, their energy lines pulsating with warning signals.

They could see very clearly that it was this fighter jet in front of them that destroyed the entire suppression formation in the blink of an eye, saving them from the brink of death.

However, this does not mean that they trust each other.

Under the functionalist system of Marxism, any transformable entity that can transform into a fighter jet, tank, bomber unit, etc., automatically belongs to the violent functional class.

They were merely ground transport workers at the bottom, only able to run and roll.

You asked if Xia Xiu was their savior?
No, this society has long since destroyed this simple moral bond; it is a society where class is determined solely by the ability to transform oneself.

As a result, all the car-and-iron-clad men instinctively tensed up, while the yellow sports car whispered a reminder to the people beside it:

"Be prepared... No matter what he just did, we can't trust those aerial combat transforming machines."

But in the snowstorm, the fighter jet that was about to land showed no hostility.

On the contrary, as the aircraft approached the ground, it gradually decelerated, its wings folded and retracted, and the entire aerodynamic structure was being reorganized.

Click click click click—Bang!

Inside the metal cabin, a dark blue flame was burning fiercely. It was Xia Xiu's [Broken Flame], and he was analyzing the minds of the six individuals below from a sensory perspective.

Their distrust, their defensiveness, their fear.

He understood this perfectly, so he chose to take the initiative and change his stance.

"Let's try a more easily understandable approach then."

The entire body module begins to rotate, collapse, and assemble; the stealth coating fades; the missile compartment is recovered; the turbofan engine is disassembled into a rear-drive engine; and the CNC system inside the cockpit is hidden into the head module.

Upon landing, the once sharp and deadly sixth-generation air superiority fighter jet had completely transformed into a solid and heavy red and blue painted semi-trailer truck.

A strong wind swept through, and the dust from the burnt energy still lingered in the air, while the sturdy, heavy red and blue semi-trailer truck remained quietly parked on the gravelly wasteland, the airflow pressing out a ring of spreading dust.

The six automotive giants—including the yellow sports car that was leading the way—were all in a state of collective, indescribable bewilderment.

Their metallic faces were now filled with a state of shock that was both comical and extreme.

No... a fighter jet turned into a car/Iron Man... oh my god!?

This, this, this...is this right?

But the next second, something even more chilling happened.

Click—click click click click click!

The truck moved.

Under the watchful eyes of everyone, the truck's front end began to separate, the folded armor sliding rapidly backward along the main frame, the roof lifting up to form a shoulder joint structure; the front axle stretched into a lower leg section, and the heavy tires with crush marks slammed heavily on the ground.

The cockpit is divided into arms and a chest armor, with chrome reflective panels that create a biomimetic skeletal structure. The red and blue color scheme of the main body is distributed along the joints, forming an armored and majestic appearance that resembles both a military unit and a leader.

An eight-meter-tall metal giant stands amidst the ruins. Its head is a biomimetic design with a deep blue head and a silver-white mask. Two slender, sharp horns stand upright in the center of the helmet, exuding a resolute and solemn aura. The chest is made of armor pieced together from the original car window and guardrail, creating a powerful look. You can even see the headlights still flickering with residual electricity.

His arms are wide and powerful; his legs are as stable as pillars, clearly giving him a load-bearing and jumping ability far exceeding that of ordinary machines.

The yellow sports car driver was completely speechless.

He stared at the face behind the mask, a face that seemed to possess a flowing will, then looked up at the other person's physique, which was almost two heads taller than his own, and finally managed to utter:
"You...you...who are you?!"

After the transformation was complete, Xia Xiu was in use with his mechanical avatar. In fact, his physical body was still inside the machine, steadily hidden in the core of the metal structure.

Within that massive mecha, his voice, resonating steadily through the echoing amplitude of his chest, rang out:
"My name is Ommessiah."

The tone is unhurried.

He paused for a moment, because the Iron Man here was unaware of the meaning of this name, so he also gave himself a secular Iron Man name:

"Of course, you can also call me... Op."