When the steel torrent of the First Company broke through the last symbolic resistance and reached the area Commissar Walter was defending, the sight that greeted them was beyond all the players' expectations.
They had actually set up a welcoming ceremony.
The ceremony was extremely simple. Two rows of soldiers stood on either side of a recently cleared passage, still reeking of engine oil and rust. Their standard-issue flak armor was badly damaged, many helmets were dented and scratched, and the lasguns in their hands looked like antiques scavenged from a junkyard.
Even more apparent was the poor quality of these soldiers; many stood unsteadily, their attempts to straighten their chests failing to hide their exhaustion and malnutrition. They formed a stark contrast to the Helldivers of the First Company, who wore carapace armor and marched with steady steps down the center of the path.
There were no colorful banners, no military music, only two rows of battered soldiers struggling to maintain their posture.
However, to organize such a welcoming ceremony in this desperate situation had already greatly exceeded the players' expectations. This was also the first time they had participated in anything similar since entering this game, and they were quite interested.
The players curiously observed the sallow-faced soldiers on both sides, whispering among themselves as they slowly advanced with the armored vehicles. There was no disdain in their eyes, only pure novelty, clearly treating it as a special game scene arranged by an NPC.
As Mua'dib led the company to the end of the passage, Commissar Walter, tall and upright, stood there. Mua'dib was about to step forward and greet this old acquaintance NPC, but Walter suddenly took a deep breath and, with all his might, let out a loud shout:
"Salute the Helldivers!"
With this resounding shout, all the surrounding soldiers and officers, including Walter himself, sharply snapped their feet together and rendered a standard and powerful military salute to the players. This sudden action startled the battle-hardened players.
Three seconds later, the others still maintained their salutes, while Walter lowered his arm and quickly walked to a microphone, welded to an iron stand, that seemed to have been pulled out from somewhere. He took a deep breath:
"Thirty years ago, our homeworld, Perditia, suffered a vile and shameful sneak attack by xenos heretics."
His voice echoed through the entire repair station via the crude amplification equipment, carrying a slight static noise but filled with undeniable power.
"We temporarily lost some areas because of this. The xenos heretics hoped that by relying on numerical superiority and heavy casualties, they could force us to kneel and surrender, but they greatly miscalculated! Although we suffered a temporary setback, every warrior is still doing his best to repel the enemy's attacks, inflicting heavy losses on the enemy!"
"What we face is an all-out war, a protracted war that will not cease until one side's blood is exhausted, a war for the survival of humanity on Perditia! In this war, whoever has the stronger will to fight, whoever has the firmer faith in the Emperor, whoever has the purer mind and consciousness, will achieve final victory! I believe that this final victory will surely belong to us and our mother Perditia!"
Walter's voice rose again.
"Warriors of the Astra Militarum and PDF, commanding officers and Commissars, male and female workers, and those guys and sisters who are still temporarily trapped behind enemy lines but are bravely resisting!"
"All of Perditia looks to you, recognizing you as the force capable of eliminating the xenos heretics; the Imperial people enslaved under the xenos heretics' yoke look to you, recognizing you as their liberators! Be worthy bearers of this mission!"
"The heroes of past history—Macarius, Slaydo, Saint Sabbat—are smiling upon you! The great and holy Emperor is watching over you! The brave and fearless deeds of the Helldivers are guiding you!"
Upon hearing the last sentence, the players collectively froze.
"What the hell? We're involved too?" someone in the team couldn't help but complain.
"Suddenly being called out, I'm a little excited."
"Don't say it, this feeling of being an epic hero, appearing in an NPC's speech to inspire others... it's quite good!"
Walter didn't give them much time to discuss. He raised his fist and, with his last ounce of strength, let out a deafening roar:
"Fight to utterly annihilate the xenos heretics! Fight for the great and glorious Lord of Humanity! Fight for our mother Perditia!"
"Fight! Fight! Fight!"
The surrounding soldiers became completely agitated. They no longer tried to maintain their ridiculous military posture but instead raised their weapons high, or slammed their rifle butts against the ground, letting out deafening roars.
Some veterans were so moved that tears welled up in their eyes, and they shouted along with the Commissar in hoarse voices. The despair, fear, and sorrow that had been suppressed for too long all transformed into fanatical fighting spirit and rekindled hope at this moment.
This pure and fervent emotion was highly infectious; even the players, who had been watching with a detached attitude, were involuntarily swept up by the atmosphere. They felt the vibration of the metal floor beneath their feet, heard the thunderous shouts, and a strange sense of pride ignited in their chests.
"For Humanity!" someone shouted first.
Immediately after, the players also raised their lasguns and joined the fervent cheering.
"For Perditia!"
"Kill those sons of bitches!"
The fervent atmosphere would subside, but once the flame of hope was ignited, it would not easily be extinguished.
After the speech, the thunderous shouts gradually subsided, replaced by a busy and vibrant clamor. The rear hatch of the chimera armored vehicle opened, and boxes of neatly stacked supplies were unloaded by the Helldivers' soldiers. Lasgun power cells, medical kits smelling of disinfectant, and high-calorie nutrient paste and purified water.
The eyes of Walter's soldiers widened when they saw these standard military supplies, which almost only existed in their memories. They carefully took the boxes, their movements as if they were holding some rare treasure. Their faces, which had just been flushed with excitement, now glowed even more brightly due to the tangible material support.
It was evident that after the inspiring speech and the mountain of supplies before them, the soldiers' morale and spirit had significantly improved. Their previously numb and weary eyes were now re-lit by something called conviction.
Mua'dib and Walter stood side by side, observing the bustling scene.
"Do you have any operational plans?" Walter went straight to the point without pleasantries. "If it's inconvenient to say, then never mind."
"There's nothing inconvenient to say," Mua'dib shrugged, his tone relaxed. "You can ask any Helldivers and they'll tell you. The genestealers in the Mid-Hive have lost their organization, and the rebellion in the Lower Hive was already vulnerable. We don't plan to waste too much time on these weaklings; in fact, Battalion Commander Robert thinks these guys are perfect for new recruit training."
He paused, his gaze fixed on the seemingly bottomless upper structure.
"After confirming your situation, we plan to dispatch elite troops into the Upper Hive to check on the Governor's status," Mua'dib said. "After all, as that Tech-Priest said, the Inquisitor is coming with the Adeptus Arbites. Before that, we need to see the current state of the old upper echelons with our own eyes. I estimate they're all dead by now, so how this planet will be managed afterwards will be up to us."
Walter nodded, deeply agreeing: "Given the current situation on Perditia, after clearing out the internal enemies, it will indeed require a period of military rule to restore order."
After speaking, a look of concern appeared on Walter's face again. He gazed into the distance, his sight seemingly penetrating the layers of the hive city's barriers, looking out at the vast and dangerous world beyond.
"I just don't know," he said worriedly, "what the situation is with those greenskins in the wilderness now..."