While I Will Carry You was completely absorbed in her construction projects in the southern district, a true "legend" on the Empire's eastern offensive was demonstrating an entirely different way to play this game.
Scorchwind, one of the Federation's virtual platform's most renowned top-tier skill-based streamers, was famous for his lightning-fast reflexes, pinpoint accuracy, and tactical brilliance.
He was one of the hundred special guests officially invited to Project Dawn.
The moment he spotted the strikingly unique, ominously crimson Battlefield: Warhammer 40k among the sea of submissions, he was instantly hooked.
Right now, he was controlling an Imperial Assault trooper, weaving through the shattered streets of the eastern district.
His movements were fluid and efficient, every roll and peek-and-shoot perfectly timed to the rhythm of combat.
The lasgun in his hands seemed to come alive, switching seamlessly between single shots and bursts.
Wherever his barrel pointed, rebel soldiers dropped like wheat before a scythe.
"Guys, this is insane!" Even in the thick of the firefight, Scorchwind's voice carried pure excitement.
"This physics engine, this gun handling, and the environmental destruction! Check out that wall!"
As he spoke, a laser burst raked across a crumbling barrier, concrete fragments spraying in all directions, leaving crisp impact marks. "This dev is an absolute genius! This is what men should be playing!"
Before he'd even finished speaking, a deep, deadly thump-thump-thump erupted from his flank!
"Crap! Heavy bolter!" Scorchwind reacted instantly, diving toward nearby cover.
But he was half a second too slow.
Several fist-sized bolts blanketed the area where he'd just been standing, their massive kinetic force tearing both the zone and him behind cover into shreds. The screen flashed blood-red.
[Rebel Veteran Guard killed Scorchwind with Heavy Bolter]
"Agh!" Scorchwind let out a frustrated yelp, though his tone carried no real disappointment.
Instead, there was the thrill of meeting a worthy opponent. "That veteran AI's got some serious skill. That gun placement was nasty, and the timing was perfect!"
However, the gorgeous stats on his death screen silently testified to his prowess:
Kills: 65
Deaths: 6
Assists: 82
Vehicles Destroyed: 5
...
Total Score: 5357
"Wind's a beast!"
"Those numbers are ridiculous!"
"No wonder he's the king of skill-based gameplay, adapted way too fast!"
"That heavy bolter vet was definitely elite-tier. Can't even be mad about that death."
The chat flooded with fan praise and game discussion.
The audience drawn to Scorchwind's stream consisted mainly of hardcore players who loved high-difficulty, brutal games.
Far from being scared off by Battlefield: Warhammer 40k's cruelty and realism, they were fired up with even greater enthusiasm.
After the brief death timer, Scorchwind respawned at the Imperial rear position.
He glanced at the overall tactical map, his brow furrowing slightly. The eastern district, under his leadership, had gained a clear advantage with several breaches torn through the defense line.
But progress on the southern and northern fronts was painfully slow. The south especially showed signs of the rebels stabilizing their position.
"Man, these teammates..." Scorchwind clicked his tongue in mild annoyance. "Not pulling their weight. We need to take all three fronts simultaneously to advance to the next phase. Can't waste time stuck here."
According to the game mechanics, the Imperial forces needed to sequentially capture the outer districts, then the central valley, and finally destroy the rebels' core power array on the plains to achieve ultimate victory.
Any single battlefield falling into a stalemate would drag down the entire operation.
Without further hesitation, he immediately switched his spawn point to the front making the least progress: the northern district.
Light flashed, and Scorchwind materialized at the Imperial staging area in the northern district.
The atmosphere here was completely different from the east.
The offensive seemed stalled, soldiers huddled behind cover, pinned down by the rebels' concentrated fire and unable to even lift their heads.
Just then, a booming voice full of absolute authority rang across the battlefield:
"Soldiers of the Imperium! Look at yourselves! Like rats cowering in holes!"
A Commissar wearing a heavy greatcoat, the golden Aquila gleaming on his cap, stood atop the wreckage of an armored vehicle, brandishing his power sword. His gaze burned as it swept over every soldier.
"Your cowardice betrays the Emperor! Your hesitation emboldens the heretics' arrogance!
Remember, in the Imperium's dictionary, there is no such thing as retreat! For the Emperor! For the Golden Throne! Charge!!"
"For the Emperor!!!" The NPC soldiers, as if injected with adrenaline, erupted into fanatical battle cries and surged from cover like a broken dam, launching a desperate charge at the rebel positions.
Players, caught up in the fervor, pushed forward with the tide.
Scorchwind moved with the charging mass, precisely picking off rebels behind cover ahead while joking with his stream:
"Guys, when can we pick Commissar as a class? Look at that buff, that morale boost!
Too strong! Does the Commissar have exclusive abilities? Like some kind of Leap of Faith? Or infinite ammo? I'm so jealous!"
His humorous commentary sparked laughter in the chat while also highlighting another possibility in the game's class system.
Swept along with countless ordinary soldiers, Scorchwind once again plunged like the sharpest spearpoint into the northern district's bloodiest meat grinder.
His arrival would undoubtedly bring a decisive variable to the stalled northern battlefield.