"The technological gap is an objective reality, but that doesn't mean we're helpless. Today's failure was primarily due to underestimating the tactical changes brought by shield technology and adopting a flawed strategy of dividing our forces for a piecemeal advance, making us vulnerable to being defeated in detail."
Takayama quickly adjusted his mindset, returning to his role as a professional military consultant to analyze the problem. "Shields aren't invincible. They require energy to maintain and have an overload limit. The 'Amaterasu' array's energy scorching is theoretically effective; we just failed to protect it.
The 'Take-Mikazuchi' Electromagnetic Railgun projectile's kinetic penetration can also pose a threat. What we lack isn't weapons, but the correct tactics and sufficient pressure to maximize their effectiveness!"
He brought up a holographic projection of the Wasteland Town's defensive perimeter, his finger rapidly tracing lines across it: "The enemy's core advantage lies in their area-of-effect energy shields and personal shield technology.
However, their forces are limited. Maine's crew, the Wraiths, the Lazarus Mercenaries, plus a small number of unknown units that might exist—their total combat power cannot compare to our entire 'white whale' battle group.
They can win a few localized battles through ingenious tactics and technological superiority, but they cannot withstand an endless, all-out war of attrition."
Takayama Shintaro's eyes sharpened, carrying a look of desperate resolve: "I propose abandoning all clever tactics and returning to the most primitive and reliable law of war: mass and quantity.
Concentrate all our landed armored forces—including main battle tanks, armored personnel carriers, and self-propelled artillery—and intersperse them with the remaining oni power armor units, forming an iron torrent.
At the same time, order the air wing to launch again, at all costs, to conduct continuous, uninterrupted airstrikes on the Wasteland Town's shield, even if it only serves to deplete its energy!"
He looked at Yorinobu Arasaka, his tone firm: "We will launch wave after wave of frontal assaults. We won't aim for tactical finesse, only for absolute firepower density and assault intensity.
We will use our armor and the lives of our soldiers to deplete the enemy's shield energy, to test its defensive limits! Even if we have to pile up corpses, we will carve a bloody path to the center of Wasteland Town!"
"This is the most foolish method, but also the most effective one currently," Takayama concluded. "Against absolute power, any technological advantage can be crushed. We, Arasaka, are never short on resources and resolve."
Yorinobu Arasaka listened silently, the cold expression on his face unchanged, though a subtle, undetectable glint flickered deep in his eyes.
Takayama's proposal aligned with Arasaka's usual domineering style, and it was indeed the most likely way to break the stalemate in the short term.
This massive war of attrition suited him perfectly—more blood spilled, more chaos created, would only provide more perfect conditions for his true plan.
He paused for a moment, as if weighing the pros and cons.
Finally, he spoke slowly, his voice still cold, but the oppressive aura around him slightly receded: "Since Uncle Takayama is so insistent and determined... then do as you say. I hope this time, you won't disappoint me again."
He paused, then added: "I will be on the bridge, personally witnessing how Arasaka's iron torrent crushes that obnoxious barrier and all the enemies within."
With that, Yorinobu no longer looked at Takayama or the others in the command center. He turned and walked back to the viewport, his gaze fixed on the distant land shrouded by the shield.
His back appeared somewhat solitary, yet it exuded an unsettling stillness.
Takayama Shintaro, having received Yorinobu's tacit approval, immediately turned, resuming his decisive commander's demeanor.
"Transmit my orders!" His voice echoed through the bridge, carrying unquestionable authority. "All landed units, including the Third and Fourth Armored Battalions, the Seventh Mobile Infantry Regiment, and all remaining oni power armor units, immediately assemble at the pre-designated attack positions!
Form three heavy assault clusters, under my direct command!"
"Order the air wing: all available attack aircraft immediately arm and take off! Employ wave-style attack tactics for continuous, twenty-four-hour bombardment of the target shield! I want to hear the explosions over Wasteland Town never cease!"
"Logistics department, ensure ammunition and energy supplies for the front lines! I need to see a non-stop supply line from the coast to the front!"
Command after command was swiftly issued, and the entire Arasaka war machine began operating with unprecedented efficiency.
On the coast, tank engines roared, exhaust pipes spewing thick smoke; the heavy footsteps of power armor resounded again, intermingling with the crunch of tracks over the ground; in the sky, carrier-based aircraft shrieked overhead, their wings laden with deadly ordnance.
A chilling atmosphere permeated the entire landing zone.
Amidst this clamor and feverish preparation, Yorinobu Arasaka quietly left the bridge and returned to his private lounge.
After confirming no one was watching, he activated the room's highest-level anti-detection shielding.
He walked to a ukiyo-e painting depicting Mount Fuji and pressed an inconspicuous indentation on the edge of the frame.
A small opening silently slid open on the side of the frame, revealing an encrypted communication terminal.
Yorinobu quickly entered a long string of passwords. The terminal screen lit up, displaying a blurred figure with no distinguishing features.
"The situation has changed, but the overall picture remains under control," Yorinobu whispered into the microphone, his voice calm and even, completely different from his previous rage on the bridge. "Takayama has decided on a frontal assault. This will shed enough blood and draw enough attention."
The figure on the other end of the screen flickered slightly, seemingly nodding.
"Proceed with the second plan," Yorinobu continued to give instructions, his voice even lower. "The objective remains the same, the timing... when the frontal battle is at its fiercest, and everyone's attention is drawn there.
Ensure the operation is absolutely clandestine. If necessary, you may use 'that channel.'"
"Understood," a processed, gender-neutral electronic voice responded from the other end of the communication, brief and affirmative.
"Remember, what I want is the 'key,' intact," a deep glint flashed in Yorinobu's eyes. "Only by obtaining it can we truly leverage this decaying world.
During the operation, no matter what happens, do not expose any connection to me."
"Command confirmed. For a new dawn," the electronic voice replied.
"For the dawn that buries the old world," Yorinobu repeated softly, then cut the communication.
He deleted all records, restored the terminal to its original state, and the picture frame silently closed, as if nothing had happened.
He walked to the window, looking at the iron torrent assembling in the harbor below, his face devoid of any expression.
Takayama's frontal assault was destined to be a bloody war of attrition, drawing the eyes of Arasaka, Militech, and all observers.
And this was precisely the perfect smokescreen he needed. Under the cover of chaos and bloodshed, his trusted subordinates would execute the true mission—a goal that concerned whether his fifty years of forbearance would finally be realized.
He didn't care how many people died on the frontal battlefield, nor did he care if Arasaka would be severely weakened by this war.
He even anticipated such an outcome.
Only sufficient destruction could clear enough space for the birth of a new world.
"Go ahead and clash, go ahead and destroy..." Yorinobu murmured to himself. "When you are both wounded and exhausted, that will be the time for me to reap the harvest."
Outside the window, Arasaka's war machine had completed its initial assembly. The massive armored clusters, like steel behemoths poised to strike, had their cannons uniformly pointed towards Wasteland Town.
The roaring engines of the air wing rumbled like thunderclouds, presaging the coming storm.
Takayama Shintaro's orders swiftly spread throughout the entire operational network via an encrypted data chain, and Arasaka's war machine once again went into full throttle.
After a brief pause, a more ferocious offensive than before erupted on the landing zone.
Arasaka's armored forces deployed into an attack formation on the outskirts of Night City.
Main battle tanks formed the first wave of assault, their heavy treads crushing over the rubble-strewn ground, turrets slowly rotating, searching for any suspicious targets ahead.
Armored personnel carriers followed closely, maintaining an appropriate distance, their roof-mounted heavy machine guns already aimed at the distant outline of the defensive line.
Infantrymen gripped their weapons through firing ports, their breathing heavy inside their gas masks.
oni power armor units were dispersed on the flanks and in the gaps of the armored cluster; the heavy footsteps of the oni power armor mixed with the roar of tank engines, forming a continuous low-frequency vibration.
These three-meter-tall steel soldiers were more agile than tanks and could quickly respond to sudden threats.
Behind the armored columns, self-propelled artillery units had completed their firing preparations.
Cannon barrels continuously fine-tuned their angles based on data transmitted from the front, and auto-loaders fed the first wave of shells into the chambers.
The crisp sound of metal clashing echoed across the artillery positions.
At the same time, carrier-based aircraft took off one after another from the white whale's deck.
After forming up in the designated airspace, the attack aircraft formed a combat formation and pressed towards the Wasteland Town.
Pilots confirmed weapon status, and target data was continuously updated in the fire control systems.
The entire Arasaka attack echelon advanced steadily like a precise killing machine, following its predetermined program.
Brief confirmation signals were transmitted over the radio, with all units maintaining strict combat spacing.
There were no superfluous sounds, only the symphony of metal grinding, engine roaring, and treads rumbling, playing the prelude to a full-scale assault on the smoke-filled battlefield.
— —
On the outskirts of the Wasteland Town, the joint defensive line constructed by Wraiths and Lazarus Mercenaries units was enduring the heaviest pressure since the start of the war.
"All units, attention! Frontal engagement! Repeat, a large-scale armored cluster is engaging frontally!" In the communication channel, the warning from the frontline observation post carried an undisguised tension.
Colonel Hansen's single eye was fixed on the tactical panel, where densely surging red signals almost covered the entire frontal area.
His expression became exceptionally grim.
"Execute the predetermined defensive plan!" he roared into the microphone, "Deploy in echelons, organize crossfire! Lazarus teams, leverage your mobility, hunt and eliminate key targets!
Wraiths squads, rely on existing fortifications, steadily resist! No one is to retreat a single step without my command!"
The prelude to the battle was opened by the Arasaka artillery cluster.
Dense shells, with piercing whistles, slammed into the defenders' positions, and explosions flashed continuously, forming a searing sea of fire.
Smoke billowed into the sky, quickly engulfing the entire battlefield.
The earth violently trembled under the continuous explosions.
Machine gun bunkers constructed from reinforced concrete prefabrications shook violently under the sustained shelling, and spiderweb-like cracks appeared on their reinforced surfaces.
When firing positions neatly stacked with standard sandbags were directly hit, the entire structure disintegrated instantly, and sand, debris, mixed with smoke, shot into the sky.
The reinforced trench walls, strengthened by combat engineers, peeled off in large chunks under the impact of near misses, exposing the rough internal reinforcement framework.
Every heavy artillery shell that fell left a shocking crater on the position.
Fragments of prefabrications, twisted metal supports, and sandbag remnants were scattered everywhere by the blast wave.
Although these fortifications were much sturdier than temporary shelters, their defensive capabilities were being eroded bit by bit under continuous heavy artillery bombardment.
The violent vibrations from the explosions made the internal organs of the soldiers sheltering within churn, while metal shrapnel and concrete fragments flying everywhere posed a fatal threat.
As soon as the artillery fire began to extend deeper, Arasaka's armored forces surged forward like a breached dam.
Tank main guns spat out dazzling flames, high-explosive and armor-piercing shells tore through the air, slamming fiercely into Wraiths' strongpoints.
Heavy machine guns on armored personnel carriers continuously spewed fire, suppressing any potential counterattack attempts by the defenders with dense barrages.
"Fire!" Hansen's roar exploded in a brief lull in the explosions.
On Wraiths' positions, all weapons simultaneously unleashed deadly firepower.
Soldiers equipped with new laser rifles fired precise single shots, crimson beams striking the tanks' observation equipment and the joint seams of the oni power armor.
Soldiers using traditional ballistic weapons continuously strafed the flanks and treads of armored personnel carriers with armor-piercing bullet belts.
Temporarily reinforced anti-tank rocket launcher gunners pulled their triggers, and rockets, trailing distinct exhaust flames and emitting piercing whistles, flew straight towards the Arasaka tanks at the forefront.
However, on this vast and chaotic frontal battlefield, the limitations of shield technology began to show.
For the veterans among the Lazarus Mercenaries, the shield generators installed on their oni power armor were like a second life.
Relying on their superb piloting skills and battlefield intuition, they could accurately judge threat levels and incoming directions, activating shields only at critical moments to block or evade, thereby significantly enhancing their survivability and combat efficiency.
These oni power armor units maneuvered flexibly on the battlefield, using the brief defensive windows created by their shields to quickly cut into the flanks or rear of Arasaka's armored forces, destroying tanks and armored vehicles one by one with precise firepower.
But for the more numerous Wraiths regular soldiers, whose training levels and combat experience varied, the situation was completely different.
The shield generators on their basic exoskeletons were inherently inferior to Lazarus' models, with limited energy reserves and sustained operating time.
Facing overwhelming artillery bombardment and dense machine gun fire, many new recruits, due to nervousness and inexperience, often activated their shields too early or continuously, causing their energy cores to quickly overload and shut down in the early stages of engagement.
"My shield! The shield is down!"
"Energy depleted! Recharge quickly!"
"Recharge can't keep up! Their firepower is too intense!"
Panicked calls began to echo in the communication channel.
Without the protection of their shields, the Wraiths soldiers still relied on their basic exoskeletons and ballistic armor, and their defensive level was instantly reduced to its original state.
Large-caliber machine gun bullets fired by Arasaka soldiers easily tore through the exoskeleton's protection, and armor-piercing rounds from anti-materiel rifles caused terrifying casualties.
In an instant, the casualty figures on Wraiths' positions began to rise significantly.
Soldiers were constantly being hit and falling, with screams and calls for help rising and falling.
Combat medics moved through the positions amidst a hail of bullets, but often to no avail.
The density of firepower on the defensive line began to decrease due to attrition.
What surprised Arasaka soldiers even more was that in the brutal close-quarters melee, they found that the enemy's oni power armor shields seemed to have lost their effect.
An Arasaka oni power armor, at the cost of its left shoulder armor being ablated by a laser, successfully closed in on a Militech 'Commando' power armor that was in the process of reloading its ammunition belt.
The Arasaka pilot unhesitatingly manipulated the mechanical arm, slamming a heavy combat mace fiercely into the opponent.
Based on previous combat experience, this strike would most likely be deflected by the blue energy shield.
But this time, the mace struck squarely on the 'Commando's' chest armor, emitting a grating sound of tearing metal.
The power armor that took the hit stumbled violently, the cockpit area visibly dented, and the entire machine instantly froze.
"Melee effective! Their shields are useless in close-quarters combat!" the Arasaka pilot roared excitedly over the internal channel.
This discovery quickly spread throughout the Arasaka assault forces.
The Arasaka power armor pilots, who had been hampered by the shields, were greatly invigorated and began to consciously push forward, enduring enemy long-range fire, attempting to engage the defending power armor in close combat.
"All power armor units, attention! Abandon long-range engagements, immediately close in on targets, and use melee weapons to resolve the fight!" the Arasaka frontline commander immediately issued new tactical orders.
The battlefield situation shifted accordingly.
Leveraging their numerical superiority and the discovery of shield failure in close combat, the Arasaka power armor began to exert greater pressure on the defenders.
Militech's 'Commando' power armor was clearly at a disadvantage in close-quarters combat; its design focused more on fire support, lacking effective heavy melee weapons, and its armor protection was relatively weak.
Once entangled by an oni power armor, it was often difficult to parry.
Even the Lazarus mercenaries felt the pressure; although their skills were superb, when simultaneously facing multiple oni power armor that had abandoned ranged attacks and were solely focused on melee, they had to be more cautious, and their operating space was compressed.
Takayama Shintaro, in the rear command center, keenly captured this change through real-time footage transmitted by drones.
A cold smile finally appeared on his taut face.
"Indeed, every technology has its weaknesses," he ordered over the communicator, "Transmit the order to all attack clusters: intensify frontal pressure, power armor units to advance at full speed, and engage the enemy in close-quarters combat! Spare no cost, tear open their defensive line!"
Under his command, Arasaka's offensive became even more frenzied.
The armored units pushed forward regardless of casualties, and the power armor clusters, like sharks smelling blood, surged towards the defending positions in waves, specifically seeking opportunities for close-quarters combat with the enemy power armor.
The casualties of the Wraithss further increased, with multiple sections of the defense line in critical condition, beginning to show signs of wavering.
Inside the workshop in the center of Wasteland Town, Osiris' massive metallic body stood silently before the main control console, his crimson optical lenses steadily scanning the waterfall-like data stream across the screen.
The deafening explosions and fierce gunfire from outside were muffled into indistinct background noise by the thick soundproofing materials.
"Buddy, it seems our shield system has encountered some interesting problems," Osiris' voice echoed in the workshop, with a pensive tone.
The servo-skull hovering nearby emitted a faint hum in response.
He was receiving and analyzing a massive amount of combat data from the front line in real-time: "Look at these energy consumption curves, and these failure time point distributions... especially the shield response data during melee contact."
The results of the data analysis clearly confirmed some of his previous conjectures and also revealed the bottlenecks in the current technological application.
"Make a note, Buddy," Osiris said to the servo-skull, his optical lenses flickering slightly, "Field data has confirmed our hypothesis. This miniaturized kinetic shield system has inherent design limitations.
To ensure energy efficiency and avoid false triggers, the sensing threshold is set to be particularly sensitive to high-speed projectiles, but slow to react to slowly approaching objects."
He paused briefly, as if organizing his thoughts: "In close-quarters combat, the relative movement speed of the power armor simply does not meet the shield's trigger conditions. This design flaw renders our defensive system completely ineffective at the closest range. Do you understand what I mean, Buddy?"
The servo-skull emitted a regular hum, its eye beam scanning across the data stream.
Osiris' processing core operated rapidly, dynamically correcting and supplementing the original upgrade plans based on this new data: "It seems that relying solely on defensive shields is no longer enough, Buddy. The enemy is adapting to our technological characteristics and adjusting their tactics.
We need more direct and effective means of lethal force, especially in the close-combat domain where the shield system has obvious flaws."
Almost simultaneously with reaching this conclusion, a new weapon design plan had already been generated, simulated, and initially verified in his core database: "It's time to prepare some new toys for the boys on the front line, wouldn't you say, Buddy?"
"Morris," Osiris' voice resonated in the workshop.
Morris, standing by like a shadow, immediately stepped forward: "Master."
"Send the technical blueprints and production parameters for 'Scheme Beta' to the Militech representative and Colonel Hansen. Priority: Highest," Osiris' instructions were clear and precise, "Inform them that this is an immediate solution for the current close-combat disadvantage."
"Command confirmed." Morris did not hesitate and immediately turned to execute the order.
Encrypted data streams instantly traversed the battlefield, arriving at the Militech coordination center in the rear and the Wraiths command post on the front line, respectively.
Colonel Hansen was overwhelmed by the rapidly rising casualties and the increasingly strained front line. When he received the new data package from Wasteland Town and saw its contents, a flicker of surprise crossed his single eye, followed by a sharp glint.
"Chainsword?... How... simple and direct!" he roared, unhesitatingly connecting to an emergency communication with the Militech representative, "This is Hansen! Immediately mobilize all frontline 3D printing and rapid manufacturing equipment, prioritize the production of the new equipment just sent by 'Archmagos'—the power armor chainsword codenamed 'Ripper'! Produce at full capacity, and send it to the front line as quickly as possible!"
The Militech representative, upon reviewing the blueprints, was also shaken by the efficiency and direct aesthetic of violence embodied in its design.
The battlefield situation was constantly changing, and he immediately ordered his technical support units to fully cooperate with the production.
In the relatively safe area behind Wasteland Town, several large military 3D printers and rapid prototyping equipment began operating at full power.
High-strength alloy powder was precisely sintered under laser beams, rapidly forming powerful-looking components: stout single-hand grips, sturdy handguards, and the most crucial parts—the chainsword blade with its menacing teeth and intricate internal structure, along with the power transmission mechanism.
The front-line positions were locked in a stalemate after days of intense firefights. Both sides repeatedly contested the ruins, every inch of land soaked in blood and oil.
At this critical moment, concise assembly guides and basic operating procedures were distributed via the tactical network to the operating interfaces of every Power Armor pilot.
The first batch of trial-produced Rippers Chainsaw Swords were urgently rolled off the production line at the rear workshop and immediately loaded onto transport vehicles fitted with protective armor.
These transport vehicles, braving the intermittent artillery fire, painstakingly navigated the damaged roads, delivering the new weapons to the most fiercely contested battle zones.
One of these Rippers was specially marked and prioritized for the commander, codenamed "Butcher," known for his valiant style and excellent close-quarters combat skills within the Lazarus squad.
At this moment, he was leading his squad in a bitter struggle at the weakest point of the defensive line, having repelled multiple fierce assaults from Arasaka forces.
He had just used his shoulder-mounted cannon to destroy the observation unit of an oni power armor and was now being cornered by two other Arasaka Power Armor units attempting a pincer attack.
He narrowly dodged a heavy combat hammer swing, his shield system flickering erratically under intense energy interference.
Just then, the quartermaster's urgent call came through the communication channel: "Butcher! New equipment delivered! Three o'clock, black weapon crate!"
Butcher maneuvered his Power Armor in a swift sidestep, his mechanical hand precisely grabbing the special weapon crate and violently tearing open its shell.
Inside, a cold-glowing weapon lay silently—a thick grip, a simple guard, and the most striking feature: a nearly two-meter-long blade covered in sharp teeth.
Without the slightest hesitation, Butcher discarded his depleted rotary machine gun, his massive metal fingers firmly gripping the Ripper's handle.
His thumb decisively pressed the activation button.
"Vwooom—!!!!!"
A low, furious hum suddenly erupted, instantly drowning out all other sounds on the battlefield.
The Ripper's teeth spun wildly at a speed imperceptible to the naked eye, emitting a sharp, air-rending screech.
The high-speed rotating teeth violently rubbed against the air, their surface rapidly glowing with a scorching dark red light.
The two Arasaka Power Armor pilots attempting the pincer attack were stunned by this sudden terrifying weapon, and their movements showed a fatal hesitation.
A ferocious grin twisted the corner of Butcher's mouth beneath his faceplate.
He controlled his Power Armor to charge forward abruptly, no longer attempting any evasion, and the Ripper in his hand swept out with destructive momentum, directly aimed at the oni on his left, which had just raised its combat mace!
The Arasaka pilot hastily tried to block with the mace, hoping the opponent's shield would still be ineffective in close combat.
But the Ripper completely ignored all defenses—this weapon was born to unleash maximum destructive power at distances where shields were ineffective!
"Clang—Boom!!"
The high-speed rotating teeth instantly shredded the blocking mace, and scorching metal fragments sprayed out like a torrential rain.
The Chainsaw Sword continued its momentum, fiercely biting into the oni 's waist armor.
This was not cutting, but complete pulverizing destruction!
High-strength alloy armor was fragile and vulnerable before the furious teeth, easily torn, shredded, and scattered.
Internal wiring, hydraulic lines, and structural supports snapped one after another amidst an ear-splitting metallic wail. Lubricant and coolant gushed from the wound like blood.
The oni's torso was almost completely severed, barely connected by a few twisted metal frames.
It stood rigidly in place, its power core emitting a few final convulsive hums, then crashed to the ground, exploding into a fireball amidst a cloud of dust.
The entire combat sequence happened in a flash.
The other Arasaka Power Armor pilot witnessed the terrifying scene of his comrade being instantly "dismembered," and his communication channel filled with panicked screams.
Butcher did not pause, controlling his Power Armor to turn, carrying the Ripper, which was still humming madly and dripping metal fragments and lubricant, like a demon returned from hell, walking step by step towards his final target.
Fear completely overwhelmed the Arasaka pilot's will to fight; he stumbled backward in his Power Armor, even forgetting to fire.
Butcher gave him no chance, lunging forward, the Ripper with a shriek of death, swept upwards from below, directly cleaving from the opponent's crotch to the chest cavity!
Another Arasaka Power Armor turned into sparking wreckage amidst the teeth-grinding sound of tearing metal.
This scene, captured by drones and battlefield recorders, was clearly observed by the high commands of both warring factions.
In the Arasaka command center, the faint smile on Takayama Shintaro's face instantly froze.
He stared intently at the furious Chainsaw Sword on the screen and the entirely different efficiency of close-quarters slaughter it brought.
"Another new weapon..." His voice was low, tinged with disbelief and a hint of annoyance. The speed of the opponent's technological iteration and battlefield adaptation was faster than imagined.
As the first batch of Rippers Chainsaw Swords were progressively issued to front-line troops, the battlefield situation began to shift noticeably.
The defending forces, who had been steadily retreating due to a disadvantage in close combat, re-stabilized their positions, and the soldiers' morale clearly rebounded.
Especially the Wraiths Power Armor pilots, after acquiring this simple, direct, and immensely powerful close-quarters weapon, finally had an effective countermeasure when facing Arasaka oni 's forced close-quarters engagements.
Although their operating skills and combat experience were still inferior to Lazarus' veteran mercenaries, the Ripper's astonishing destructive power largely compensated for these disparities.
Many Wraiths pilots found that as long as they could accurately hit the target, the Chainsaw Sword's high-speed teeth could easily tear through the enemy Power Armor's armor.
The battlefield situation was thus reversed once again.
Arasaka's tactic of relying on close-quarters combat to breach the defensive line became far less effective after the defenders acquired highly targeted counter-weapons.
The offensive front lines once again devolved into a brutal war of attrition, with Arasaka paying a considerable price for every step forward.
In the Wasteland Town's central workshop, Osiris calmly received the combat data of the Ripper Chainsaw Sword transmitted from the front lines.
His crimson optical lens flickered rhythmically as the information stream scrolled.
"Record: 'Ripper' Chainsaw Sword initial combat data meets expectations. Effectively fills the close-combat defense gap and produces a significant suppressive effect on enemy morale." He paused briefly, calling up the weapon wear report, "Recommend focusing on optimizing the material formula for the saw teeth in subsequent production batches to enhance their durability in continuous combat environments."
The direction of the war had shifted again due to the deployment of this new technology.
However, for Osiris, these battlefield changes were merely valuable research data, important references for him to optimize weaponry and understand the war patterns of this world.
He continued to calmly observe the development of the battle, analyzing various parameters, preparing to launch the next game-changing project when necessary.
Battlefield data, like a surging tide, continuously flowed into Osiris' workshop's main control server through Militech's logistical maintenance interfaces and the covert data collection subroutines on the Wraiths and Lazarus Mercenaries' power armor.
The spectrum of explosion shockwaves, the dissipation curves of energy weapons, the penetration efficacy of kinetic ammunition, real-time stress feedback from power armor joints and transmission systems, and even the physiological indicator fluctuations of pilots under extreme conditions... All this massive information was meticulously recorded, categorized, compressed, and finally transformed into a binary torrent, stored in specific sectors of the core database.
Osiris' massive dark red body stood still before the main control console, his crimson optical lenses steadily scanning the waterfall-like data stream cascading across the screen.
The deafening explosions and intense gunfire from outside were reduced to vague and distant background noise by thick composite soundproofing materials and active acoustic cancellation fields, unable to disturb the high-speed parallel computations of his logic core, which surpassed human comprehension.
"Buddy, the data samples are mostly collected, and preliminary modeling is complete," Osiris' synthetic voice resounded in the workshop, carrying a calm tone, as if sharing a discovery with an Buddy after completing a phase of work.
He brought up key datasets, algorithmically cleaned and visualized, on the main screen.
"Look at these battlefield exchange ratio curves and subsystem damage reports. The power armor technology route in this world is indeed... unique."
The servo-skull hovering beside him emitted a faint hum of understanding, its eye sockets' steady blue light flickering in rhythm with the scrolling data, like a focused assistant.
"Their core technology relies heavily on high-bandwidth neural direct-link interfaces," Osiris' metallic finger tapped lightly on the control panel, bringing up several slow-motion and annotated videos of oni power armor and assault squad - type vii in close-quarters combat. In the videos, every micro-operation of the power armor perfectly corresponded to the peak of the pilot's neural signal map.
"Attempting to seamlessly connect the pilot's biological reaction speed with the mechanical limits of output, theoretically, it can indeed approach the operational ceiling of 'man-machine integration,' especially in environments requiring instantaneous judgment and complex tactical maneuvers."
He paused briefly, the focal length of his optical lenses subtly adjusting, as if scrutinizing deeper issues behind the data.
"But at what cost, Buddy?" His voice took on a more distinctly analytical tone. "Not to mention the dual burden this connection places on the pilot's mind and body, just the advanced neural implants and sensory synchronization systems required to support this operating mode—their cost, maintenance complexity, and the basic aptitude requirements for pilots—are enough to form a high barrier."
"More importantly..." Osiris' synthetic voice dropped a decibel, as if emphasizing the crucial point that followed, "This technological path, highly dependent on individual elite pilots, with long training cycles, and demanding stringent logistical support, is too extravagant for an Empire that needs to arm billions of stars and contend with endless wars of attrition, Buddy.
It's more like a precision instrument custom-made for a select few strong individuals, rather than a war anvil that can arm legions and be repeatedly hammered in mud and blood."
The servo-skull emitted a series of more rapid binary confirmation tones, seemingly fully grasping the critical difference.
"Think about it, Buddy," Osiris turned slightly towards the hovering servo-skull, the light from his optical lenses steadily focused on its sensor array. "Yes, the Space Marines' power armor relies on neural links, but they possess the 'Black Carapace'—the final culmination of nineteen modification surgeries, an extraordinary grace bestowed by the Emperor.
We, the Adeptus Mechanicus, certainly have the capability to replicate or even simplify this interface technology, but the key lies in cost."
Countless complex resource evaluation formulas and production line simulation data instantly flowed through his logic core.
"The reality we must face is that the Imperial Guard needs to arm hundreds of millions of ordinary soldiers scattered across every corner of the galaxy.
Even if only a small fraction, say one percent, were equipped with such gear requiring deep physical modification to pilot, the resources, time, and logistical support consumed would be an astronomical figure, enough to cripple the budgets of several sectors."
"Therefore, the guiding principle must be clear," Osiris' synthetic voice carried an undeniable sense of pragmatism, "For weaponry, reliability and ease of maintenance are paramount, followed by performance and advancement.
The Empire never lacks cutting-edge technological creations, but what frontline units truly need are 'tools' that can be mass-produced, rapidly deployed, and endure attrition on the harshest battlefields."
He concluded, his tone like stating a law of physics: "The power armor we are designing, its core purpose is to solve the practical equipment needs of the Imperial Guard; it is to fill the front lines, not to be a technological showcase in some laboratory."
Based on this core idea, Osiris began to construct the design plan.
First, he rejected the neural direct-link operating mode.
He pursued structural simplicity, but also required ease of operation; pilots shouldn't have to memorize thick operating manuals.
"Then, the solution is very clear, Buddy," Osiris' synthetic voice contained a hint of sudden enlightenment, "The key lies in the auxiliary system. Or rather, adopting a form more in line with the 'context' of the Warhammer Universe — the 'machine spirit.'"
In the servo-skull's eye sockets, the faint blue light flickered noticeably, seemingly in response to this promising idea.
"Cyberpunk World's power armor is already equipped with low-level artificial intelligence for auxiliary control; this is a ready-made foundation," Osiris explained to his silent companion while retrieving relevant technical archives and code libraries. "We don't need to start from scratch; we only need to collect enough combat data from excellent pilots, integrate, optimize, and deep-learn it to train a general operational data model highly adapted to battlefield environments.
The real challenge is how to implement it safely and 'compliantly' in the Warhammer Universe..."
His crimson optical lenses flickered slightly, revealing a knowing implication.
"That's the clever part. Archmagos Vox has already approved the production of those 'ancient logic cores' on Neksum, hasn't he? We will load the trained data model into it, letting this 'core' coordinate and drive the entire power armor.
As for any potential questions about its intelligent nature..."
Osiris' synthetic voice took on an almost mocking cadence, as if stating an open secret: "Buddy, how can the mysteries of the machine spirit be presumptuously defined by the mundane concept of 'artificial intelligence'?
The pilot only needs to focus on the target, give his all, and the rest can be entrusted to the loyal machine spirit!
Even if the pilot unfortunately falls in battle, that machine spirit, imbued with will, will surely continue to carry the unfinished mission until the enemies of humanity are thoroughly purged!"
With the most critical operational issues resolved, the remaining design work for Osiris had a clear direction, but the specific implementation path still required careful consideration.
"Buddy, the blueprint framework is in place, but we need to first define the performance boundaries," Osiris said to the servo-skull, bringing up the initial structural stress simulation diagram. "The strength of the linear framework can theoretically support a charge speed of fifteen meters per second, but..."
The servo-skull emitted a short, warning-like tone, simultaneously projecting a set of data into his vision showing the physiological tolerance limits of mortal pilots under overload acceleration.
"Yes, I understand," Osiris' synthesized voice carried a tone of deliberation. "We cannot demand astartes standards from mortals. We need to adjust the structural strength and transmission ratio to the optimal range, not the theoretical limit.
The maximum speed... let's set it at sixty kilometers per hour. This should be a reasonable balance between maneuverability and the pilot's endurance."
He continued to build the design.
An extremely sturdy linear framework served as the skeleton, covered with high-toughness electronic muscle fibers to provide powerful yet relatively soft power output, while critical areas were protected with classic ceramite composite armor.
"The shield system, Buddy, this is the biggest difference between us and the metal cans of this world," Osiris integrated the model of a simplified personal kinetic shield generator into the design. "My initial idea was a more powerful deflection field, but the volume and energy consumption would increase exponentially."
The servo-skull quickly simulated the relationship between energy consumption and sustained combat time, and the results showed that if a higher-grade shield were used, the power armor's sustained combat capability would be significantly reduced.
"Compromise is necessary," Osiris finally confirmed. "This system doesn't need to withstand a direct hit from a plasma cannon; as long as it can effectively deflect small-caliber solid projectiles and shell fragments, providing the pilot with a few extra seconds of survival time during a charge, the investment in weight and volume is worthwhile.
It is precisely because of it that our 'lad' reached a height of four meters."
The entire design process was not smooth sailing; he constantly had to choose between ideal performance and practical constraints.
A life support system, communication array, battlefield situational awareness suite, and a crucial omni-environmental adaptation system were efficiently integrated into the framework.
Osiris knew that the Imperium's territory spanned a million worlds, from toxic Death Worlds and lava-flowing volcanic worlds to frozen wastelands near absolute zero, and even areas with anomalous gravity or bizarre atmospheric compositions. This system had to provide a reliable sanctuary for mortal soldiers to survive.
Every integration decision was accompanied by repeated considerations of extreme reliability, frontline maintainability, and large-scale deployment costs.
"Buddy, we cannot only consider conventional battlefields," Osiris brought up a series of extreme planetary environmental parameters, explaining his design logic to the servo-skull. "Our power armor needs to contend with the malice of the entire galaxy — corrosive atmospheres, psychic dust, reality distortions caused by Warp whispers... and even worse."
The servo-skull projected simulated data for several major threats and marked the corresponding required protection technologies and energy consumption.
"Yes, costs will skyrocket," Osiris' synthesized voice carried a pragmatic calmness, "but we don't need to pursue long-term survival on the surface of a Death World; that belongs to more specialized exploration equipment.
Our goal is to ensure survival and combat effectiveness — to ensure that the wearer can maintain combat capability for at least dozens of hours in most extreme environments, buying time for evacuation or waiting for rescue."
Therefore, the core of his designed system lay in basic sealing, internal circulation maintenance, and environmental adaptability adjustment.
The ceramite shell and composite joints provided basic protection; reinforced filtration and air synthesis modules could handle various toxic or inert atmospheres; built-in temperature control units could withstand extreme temperatures; the system even possessed a certain resistance to energy fields and psychic interference.
"It may not allow the user to move freely in a vacuum for days, but it is enough to support them in fighting their way from the wreckage of a destroyed transport ship to the nearest airlock," Osiris concluded. "For the Imperial Guard, that is enough. Every veteran who returns to the front lines alive is a valuable asset."
This yet-unnamed power armor ultimately adopted a classic humanoid design.
Due to being packed with various equipment, its dimensions reached an astonishing four meters in height, making it a significant presence even in the giant-filled Warhammer Universe.
The arms largely maintained a humanoid structure for wielding melee weapons or large firearms, but the forearms were designed as quickly detachable modules for swapping out fixed heavy weapons such as heavy bolters, melta guns, or lascannons.
The energy core chosen was a plasma reactor of the same class as the Imperial Sentinel walkers.
"Astartes power reactors have less power and would struggle to propel a four-meter-tall heavy unit like this," Osiris explained his choice to the servo-skull. "This reactor must provide abundant and stable energy for all systems, especially that 'energy hog,' the shield generator."
The cockpit adopted a seated posture, but the space was extremely compact.
It essentially hollowed out the humanoid torso and part of the thigh area, creating a space just large enough to accommodate a standard-sized human sitting inside.
Of course, if it were a smaller Ratling, the space would seem spacious, but Osiris designed the operating interface based on standard human body types, so Ratlings would probably not be able to pilot it effectively.
The final design product weighed nearly two tons. With the arms in humanoid form, the basic output force was set at five tons.
"This is enough to complete most battlefield engineering tasks, or to push a bogged-down Leman Russ out of the mud," Osiris commented, abandoning some more aggressive melee output indicators to protect the mechanical structure and the pilot.
Considering specific tactical needs, Osiris reserved standardized interfaces on the back of the power armor for adapting flight kits.
Whether it was a grav-chute for slowing descent or a jump pack for short-range assault capabilities, these could be quickly attached via this interface to meet the needs of special missions such as orbital drops or assaults on complex terrain.
However, for reasons of cost and to control equipment complexity, these functions were defined as optional modules rather than standard configurations.
In terms of weapon systems, Osiris chose a pragmatic and efficient compatibility strategy. This power armor was designed to directly use most heavy personal weapons from the astartes arsenal, ensuring that it could quickly form combat effectiveness in the initial stages of deployment without waiting for the establishment of a dedicated logistics system.
Of course, he also planned to tailor a more suitable exclusive weapon arsenal for it in the future, based on combat feedback.
Regarding the pilot, Osiris' core principle was clear: no invasive neural interface surgical modifications were needed.
Instead, the key lay in the pilot establishing an effective, synchronized relationship with the machine spirit built into the power armor.
"The synchronization process must be gentle enough, Buddy," Osiris emphasized to the servo-skull when finalizing the neural interface protocol. "We need to create an immersive sense of connection, similar to a knight mecha's inheritance ritual, allowing the pilot to feel the machine spirit's pulse and work in unison with it.
But the entire process must be far less violent and dangerous. We don't need the pilot to endure the mental Impact of ancestral consciousness fragments; that would only bring unnecessary risks and meaningless non-combat casualties."
Nevertheless, to maximize the potential of the human-machine integration, Osiris still prepared a progressive pilot enhancement plan.
He turned to the servo-skull and explained, "Buddy, we need to differentiate. For ordinary mortal pilots, a non-invasive solution—motor neural reflex assistance and augmented reality interface implants—will suffice.
But for our Skitarii Corps who have already undergone systematic modifications…",
Osiris brought up the standard cybernetic modification checklist for the Skitarii Corps.
"Their bodies are already equipped with comprehensive mechanical interfaces. It would be a waste not to fully utilize these existing neural ports and data transmission systems."
He designed a deep neural direct-link interface protocol for Skitarii Corps pilots.
This would not only directly input the power armor's sensor data stream into their processing centers but also allow the Skitarii Corps warriors' enhanced neural signals to control the mech more quickly and precisely, achieving near-instinctive reaction speeds.
"This deep connection solution," Osiris explicitly stated in his internal directives, "will be prioritized for my direct Skitarii Corps units. This is not only a further enhancement of their combat capabilities but also a logical upgrade based on their existing modifications.
Better equipment means higher survival rates and stronger combat power, which benefits all of us."
—
After the overall design was complete, Osiris began to manufacture the prototype.
"Buddy, time to get to work," he said to the servo-skull, simultaneously disassembling the design blueprints. "Adamantium armor, main structural frame, plasma reactor, hydraulic transmission system, and electronic muscle bundles… These core components cannot be produced in this world. Let's send them back to the Warhammer Universe and give my apprentices something to do."
He then sent the design blueprints for these critical parts through the data interface to the main control system of the Death World base, attaching clear instructions: "To the wasteland workshop Apprentice Team: Produce the listed components according to the attached technical drawings and specifications, with high priority.
Inspection standards must strictly comply with the data checklist requirements. This serves as a practical assessment."
He could almost imagine the twenty-three young adjusters of the "Apprentice Team" scrambling yet eagerly energized upon receiving this direct order from the Lord Archmagos.
Releasing them from daily maintenance and theoretical study to personally manufacture such complex devices was a valuable opportunity and a severe test.
Subsequently, he turned his attention to local production resources.
"As for some non-core auxiliary parts," Osiris instructed the servo-skull, "package and send the blueprints for internal wiring harnesses, standard interfaces, and non-load-bearing cover plates for the external armor to Militech.
Tell them we need a set of samples, using the best craftsmanship and materials they can provide."
"Order confirmed. Filtering non-core component blueprints, data package encrypted. Establishing secure link with Militech logistics channel. Transmission initiated," the servo-skull responded, its eye beams projecting a new data transmission progress bar.
Osiris finally turned to the stably operating dimensional teleporter deep within the workshop. "And the shield generator core, as well as the most important 'machine spirit' carrier…" His crimson optical lenses gazed at the distorted pale blue light, his voice tinged with careful consideration, "The power of this knowledge is probably too premature for this current world."
—
In the following days, Osiris simultaneously advanced several tasks: he monitored the front-line battle situation, analyzed the combat data returned by the fangs kits and Ripper chainswords, and awaited the arrival of both batches of components.
Militech demonstrated their efficient industrial capabilities.
Although their engineers didn't quite understand some design standards, especially the design philosophy that didn't deliberately pursue lightweighting but instead focused on structural strength and environmental adaptability, they still completed the production of all outsourced parts within a week and delivered them to the wasteland workshop through secret channels.
These parts were well-made and fully met the requirements.
On the other hand, the apprentices at the Death World base took more time.
During this period, Osiris received several technical inquiries, all concerning material processing and energy circuit stability.
He didn't directly provide answers but instead had them consult technical manuals and standard procedures themselves.
Finally, when the matte adamantium armor, smoothly operating plasma reactors, and intricate shield components arrived via the teleporter, Osiris inspected them and found that although the apprentices' work still showed some traces of inexperience, it fully met the standards.
In fact, in some less important details, they even added some of their own clever touches.
With all parts in place, Osiris began the final assembly of the prototype.
His massive body stood in the spacious work area, and several nimble mechanical tentacles extended precisely from behind his back and beneath his robes, like sophisticated tools with independent will.
Assembly strictly followed a logical sequence.
First, the sturdy linear frame from the Death World was hoisted into place, serving as the skeleton of the entire mech.
Next, complex hydraulic transmission systems and bundles of electronic muscles were individually embedded into the frame's reserved slots and secured.
Subsequently, auxiliary parts from Militech were efficiently integrated to connect and enclose these core components.
The most crucial power and protection systems were left for last.
The Sentinel-class plasma reactor was carefully embedded in the core of the torso, and multiple layers of adamantium armor plates were then riveted to key areas.
Finally, the precisely structured shield generator was installed above the reactor and connected to the main power source.
Throughout the process, Osiris' crimson optical lenses steadily scanned each component, with sensors continuously monitoring torque, sealing, and circuit connectivity.
There were no superfluous movements, only the steady hum of the mechanical tentacles, the dull thud of metal components joining, and the rhythmic sounds of tools.
After several hours of continuous work, all systems were initially integrated.
A few days later, a four-meter-tall power armor stood silently in the center of the workshop.
Its sturdy body was encased in an intentionally dark red adamantium shell, with clean and powerful lines.
On its head monitor, Osiris even playfully added a single horn, though it was a communication antenna.
The plasma reactor on its back emitted a low hum, indicating ample power reserves, and the weapon interfaces at the ends of its arms were empty, ready for various weapons to be installed at any time.
Although it stood motionless, its stillness exuded a breathtaking sense of oppression.