The Dusk Slaughter Over Rolling Hills

ROUND 1 OF 4

Ten F-15 Eagles screamed over the ridgeline at 30,000 feet, their pilots spotting the Apache swarm spreading across the valley like angry hornets. The first volley of Sidewinders lanced downward into the twilight; three Apaches erupted in fireballs before their crews realised what had struck them. The remaining helicopters scattered in panic, but there was nowhere to hide from jets that could turn tighter and climb higher.

ROUND 2 OF 4

The Apache formation fractured into desperate defensive clusters, attempting to return fire with Hellfires that arced lazily through the dusk. An F-15 took a grazing hit from a lucky shot and trailed smoke but pressed on, its pilot rolling hard and releasing another pair of missiles that turned two more helicopters into falling wreckage. The Uruk-hai watched uselessly from the ground, their arrows and crude weapons entirely useless against the aerial carnage unfolding above them; Will Ferrell lay behind a rock, genuinely concerned about his safety.

ROUND 3 OF 4

By the time the sun touched the horizon, the Eagles had tightened their kill-box and were executing a methodical slaughter—one F-15 would flush Apaches toward another, who waited with trigger fingers ready. Forty helicopters were already burning across the hillsides; the remaining twenty scattered wildly, their pilots too terrified to coordinate, too outnumbered to mount any effective counter.

ROUND 4 OF 4

The final Apache pilot attempted a desperate suicide run on the nearest F-15, but the Eagle's superior speed allowed a textbook barrel-roll and counter-engagement—a single missile sealed his fate. As the last helicopter crumpled against the rolling terrain, the F-15 formation wheeled back toward the airfield, their victory so absolute that even the distant Uruk-hai host fell silent.

» The final Apache spiralled earthward like a dying bird, its rotors shredded, leaving naught but smoking wreckage scattered across the dusk-painted hills.