"Is it really… impossible to replicate?"
In the Adeptus Mechanicus workshop, the newly resurrected AlphaBravo, holding his only remaining byakugan, asked Reddito with some reluctance. As for his right eye, which had played a crucial role in the battle, it had turned to nothingness along with his self-detonation.
"I will not replicate organs involving psykers." Reddito's voice was as cold and emotionless as ever. "Find someone else."
Although Reddito said that, AlphaBravo could tell it was just a casual excuse. He sighed helplessly and turned to leave, crestfallen.
Is his favorability not high enough? AlphaBravo thought to himself as he walked. If so, it was normal; after all, he had never specifically sought out this Tech-Priest, so it would be strange if his favorability were high.
He found Robert, who was allocating personnel in the command center.
"I'm sorry, Sir Robert," AlphaBravo said, somewhat dejectedly, "you might need to find someone else to be the victor's observer. Reddito isn't willing to help me replicate my eye. The left eye I have left can only last fifteen minutes at most if overloaded."
"Hmm, that's somewhat expected." Robert nodded, seemingly unsurprised. He patted AlphaBravo's shoulder. "But it's alright; while you were gone, a player offered to lend you his item."
"Who?!" AlphaBravo looked up in surprise.
"He didn't want me to say. He believes that as brothers in arms, helping each other on the battlefield is only natural," Robert said with a gentle smile. "There's no need for all those thank-you pleasantries."
"Anyway, take this." Robert tossed a small plastic vial to AlphaBravo, who quickly caught it. "Whenever you feel your eye can't hold on, just take one."
"What is this?" AlphaBravo looked at the vial in his hand with confusion, then he saw the item name on it.
"Holy crap!" AlphaBravo was shocked. "Is it really okay to give me something that might make the Emperor stand up from the Golden Throne, to pop like candy?!"
"That player initially thought the same, but he quickly realized," Robert explained, "the value of this thing, for us players, isn't as high as imagined; in fact, it can be said to be… almost zero."
"Oh…" AlphaBravo paused at the words, then quickly understood. "You're right. For us, taking a pill isn't as good as finding a place to die quickly. Both result in full-status resurrection, and the latter is free."
"Exactly. So, for him, its greatest value is actually its collection value," Robert said. "After learning about your predicament, he kept one for his own collection and handed over the rest."
"Hmm…" AlphaBravo weighed the vial in his hand, then mused, "For this level of help, a simple 'thank you' would indeed be a bit insincere."
He solemnly put the vial into his pocket and said to Robert, "In the future, if I have something of similar quality, I will definitely give him a share. At that time, I'll trouble you, Battalion Commander, to pass it on."
Meanwhile, at the center of the Governor's mansion.
"Oh?"
Yarvis, still strumming his bone guitar, suddenly showed a playful smile on his handsome face. He "saw" some things clearly through the sound waves echoing throughout the entire structure.
"A preemptive strike, huh… It seems this Astra Militarum not only has a clear-headed commander, but its soldiers also possess commendable courage."
Yarvis was right. If Robert and his group had truly decided to set up defensive positions at the various entrances and exits of the Governor's mansion, waiting for the enemy to charge, then what they would likely be waiting for were several precise bolter rounds and deadly overloaded plasma shots from tricky angles, sending their heavy firepower and armored forces sky-high before the battle even began.
After all, as twisted as the space marine was, his tactical acumen and intelligence as an astartes were still online… Of course, this was only when he hadn't taken too many drugs.
However, deducing the correct tactic was one thing; actually executing it was another. Especially when facing a corrupted space marines as the enemy, a mortal force actively attacking their entrenched lair required astonishing courage.
Yarvis smiled, his long fingers continuing to pluck the strings.
His music had not yet reached its finale—this piece had to be played to completion… Deep within the Governor's mansion, the dark corridor seemed endless.
The Helldivers were silently advancing.
At the forefront of the team were two hundred infantrymen wearing full-coverage carapaces. Among them and behind them, the engines of three Chimera Armored Personnel Carriers rumbled deeply, their treads grinding over the luxurious but blood-stained marble floor, leaving two clear tracks.
Fortunately, the Governor's mansion was built grand and vast enough, with unusually spacious interior halls and corridors, otherwise this small-scale armored assault force would not have been able to deploy in formation indoors.
As the last soldier and the last chimera fully entered the next huge room, an enchanting and magnificent piano melody gracefully began to play, combined with the omnipresent guitar, severely affecting everyone's hearing.
The music seemed to come from all directions, yet also seemed to play directly in everyone's minds, making it impossible to pinpoint its source. Immediately afterward, a voice with an elegant smile followed, echoing in the empty exhibition hall: "Welcome, everyone, to my art gallery."
Before the words finished, deadly attacks had already arrived!
Several bolter rounds, at a speed difficult for the naked eye to catch, whistled out from the blind spots of the shadows, accurately hitting a chimera in the middle of the formation!
Boom—!!!
A violent explosion occurred instantly, and the armored vehicle was blown into a twisted fireball of steel. Terrifying shockwaves and metal fragments swept outwards, instantly tearing apart a dozen surrounding infantrymen, while more were set ablaze, emitting piercing screams. Death or dismemberment, it was all in the blink of an eye.
But the Helldivers' reactions were astonishingly fast.
"Fire! Suppress!"
Almost simultaneously with the explosion, the heavy stubbers on the roofs of the remaining two chimeras began to roar wildly, their blazing bullet chains like two whips of fire, indiscriminately sweeping every suspicious shadowy corner, splattering the bizarre "artworks" on the walls with gore.
The remaining infantry also dispersed immediately, quickly seeking cover in fireteams, and advancing while providing covering fire to probe their surroundings.
The space marine lurking in the shadows immediately saw through their objective.
"Heh… trying to use lives to pinpoint my location?" He let out a contemptuous sneer. "This number of people is far from enough."
The space marine leisurely raised his bolter and began to fire single shots casually. His marksmanship was incredibly precise, bolter rounds always shooting from the most cunning and unexpected angles. Each pull of the trigger sent a bolter round accurately into the center of an infantry fireteam, the force of the explosion always taking two to three lives, blasting them into a bloody mist.
He reveled in this unequal slaughter, like an artist pruning his bonsai.
However, after he had unhurriedly fired more than a dozen bolter rounds, the joyous smile on his face suddenly froze.
He realized something was wrong: "Hmm? The numbers… why do they seem unchanged?"