This space marine had originally conceived an elaborate script for this small "performance."
He had artistically calculated the timing of his shots and the space of his movements. He was supposed to elegantly retreat to the end of the room, and with the last note of the music, pierce the skull of the last Astra Militarum Soldier with a final bolter round, bringing a perfect close to this massacre.
But now, the plan was disrupted.
He had already retreated to the middle of the room, but apart from the burning chimera wreckage at the entrance, the number of two hundred infantrymen hadn't decreased at all! He had clearly killed over a hundred.
"Attrition warfare?" the space marine gave himself the most reasonable explanation for this discordant scene. "It's normal, after all, the space in this room is at its limit for a two-hundred-man squad."
He had no choice but to actively interrupt his envisioned elegant rhythm. With a displeased snort, he unleashed the dozen or so bolter rounds remaining in his magazine, and the two remaining chimeras were instantly blown into two rising infernos!
He thought very clearly. If this situation continued, he might not be able to clear out these mortals by the time he retreated to the back of the room. In that case, he would lose the protection of all shadows and be forced to expose himself in the open.
At that point, compared to the ineffectual "flashlights" in the hands of the infantry, the heavy stubbers on the two chimeras would be the real threat. Although even if he stood still and let them shoot, it would take more than ten seconds to even have a chance to injure him, luck was an unpredictable thing. What if the enemy happened to hit a weak point in his power armor or an already damaged joint?
He considered himself a meticulous artist, and such a possibility of aesthetic damage should, of course, be nipped in the bud.
Although the direct targets of the dozen bolter rounds were the armored vehicles, fragile mortals were, after all, fragile mortals. The violent shockwaves from the explosions threw their formation into disarray, forcing them into a temporarily suppressed state... but only temporarily. They quickly regrouped and continued their silent advance.
"Hmph, as expected, they are mortals deluded by the Corpse Emperor and fallen into numbness." This piano-loving space marine snorted, "Fine, you are not worthy of me wasting any more bolter rounds. Let me personally take the field and play your final movement with my blade..."
Just as he placed his hand on the hilt of his power sword, preparing to leap into the enemy ranks... a heavy engine roar came from outside the room, growing closer.
This sudden sound made his expression change.
"This is..." Relying on his already keen astartes senses, which had been further enhanced after falling to Chaos, he instantly identified the source of the sound, "A leman russ... Vanquisher?"
"So that's it." In a flash, he felt he had deduced the full scope of these mortals' tactics. "The first three chimeras and these infantrymen were all just bait, intended to force me out of the shadows. The commander of this unit never expected such weak firepower to kill me."
"The real trump card is this Vanquisher hidden in the rear." The more he thought, the more he felt he was correct, and a knowing smile even touched his lips. "This variant of the leman russ, its main cannon can even penetrate the armor of a Reaver Titan with a single shot. It's certainly more than enough to deal with space marines."
"Too bad," the space marine shook his head, his tone filled with pity for the mortal commander, "The tactic is a good tactic, but the quality of the executors is too low... Your soldiers lack the necessary patience and composure.
They probably thought that since they had already advanced to the end of the room, and I had no more space to hide, it didn't matter if they revealed themselves before me..."
"What a pity," He slowly removed his hand from the sword hilt, his posture becoming elegant once more, "The premise of me having to reveal myself stems from my own aesthetic constraints. After all, fighting a guerrilla war of running around with a bunch of mortals is truly undignified. If I wanted to, I could easily and silently bypass these mortals over their heads."
"So, once this Vanquisher is dealt with, you'll be helpless, won't you?" He revealed a sinister and confident smile, "It seems I've won this game..."
Just as the marine felt certain of victory, the Vanquisher tank roared as it smashed through the marble door! And he, with his superhuman vision, naturally saw the full scope of the Vanquisher at first glance.
It was precisely because of this that the smile on his face instantly froze, turning into extreme horror.
Because he saw that as soon as the Vanquisher charged in, its thick cannon barrel was already precisely... pointing at him!
The speed of a space marines might exceed the rotation speed of a turret, but it certainly didn't mean it could exceed the flight speed of a cannon shell!
"Impossible!"
Amidst a roar filled with shock and unwillingness, he and the marble pillar in front of him, which served as cover, were completely engulfed by the scorching ball of light blasted from the Vanquisher's main cannon, turning into dust.
Inside the Vanquisher tank, upon hearing the system prompt Target eliminated, all crew members collectively breathed a sigh of relief.
The Helldivers' tactics were almost identical to what that space marine had surmised, with only one difference — the Vanquisher knew his position from the very beginning. The infantry's mission was never to find him, but merely to force him step by step into that kill zone with the least amount of cover.
"Let's go, next one." AlphaBravo, in the observer's seat, said calmly.
The tank commander asked with concern, "How are your eyes?"
"Very good, the effect is excellent." AlphaBravo felt a cool sensation emanating from his left eye, a comfortable feeling that dispelled all fatigue and pain. "After taking this SCP-500, I feel like I can last two hours."
At the same time, due to Black's death, the piano music stopped, and the guitar in the center of the Governor's Mansion once again became a solo, though compared to the previous solo, it had subtly changed its tune.
This subtle change went unnoticed by most players, except for those with extremely high artistic accomplishments in reality. Even if they noticed, they didn't care, or at least, those who noticed felt no need to specifically point it out.
However, for the other Son of the Emperors scattered throughout the Governor's Mansion, this slight change in the guitar melody, and the meaning it contained, was extremely obvious.
"Hmm? That space marine guy... was actually killed?"
"Ha! That piano-loving pervert is finally dead!"
"Hehehe... it's getting more and more exciting, isn't it...?"