The red button was slammed down.
A blinding crimson flare erupted from the top of the metal cylinder.
Thick scarlet smoke instantly flooded the drainage tunnel.
Leon Drake frowned.
That wasn’t a bomb.
It was a specially designed signal flare bearing the Imperial Ecclesiarchy’s Aquila.
“Bunker One.” “Eliminate the target.” Less than half a second after the order was given…
The bunker’s fire-control radar locked onto the heat signature inside the smoke.
A storm of 8mm Gauss rounds ripped through the air.
The barrage engulfed the cult preacher’s position.
The sound of flesh and bone being torn apart disappeared beneath the roar of gunfire.
The crippled preacher never even had time to scream.
His upper body was shredded into bloody pulp.
Fragments of bone and organs splattered across the moss-covered walls.
His alien-skull staff was snapped clean in half by the hail of bullets before dropping into the foul sewage below.
The commander was dead.
But the monsters didn’t retreat.
With the psychic suppression gone, the Tyranid genes buried deep within the cultists’ bodies completely took over.
They no longer fought in formation.
They no longer obeyed orders.
Only one instinct remained.
Kill.
The battle entered a pure war of attrition.
The mutants surged forward like a green tidal wave.
They climbed over the corpses of their own kind, clawing and biting at the bunkers’ armored walls.
Highly concentrated acid sprayed from swollen glands on their backs.
The sizzling corrosion echoed across the armor plating.
The SCV immediately moved in.
Its high-frequency welding torch unleashed blazing blue flames.
Corroded sections were rapidly patched with molten scrap metal.
The Firebats remained at the front.
Streams of plasma gel continued pouring from their flamethrowers.
The narrow tunnel had become a blazing furnace.
The air itself shimmered from the heat.
Any mutant charging into the inferno saw its chitin peel away and carbonize within seconds.
One Firebat began running low on fuel.
For a single second…
The wall of fire weakened.
Three mutant brutes seized the opening.
Leaping over the mountain of corpses, they drove their bone spikes toward the Firebat’s chest armor.
Behind the line…
A Medic calmly raised her arm.
A pale blue healing beam locked onto the damaged Firebat.
Millions of nanites repaired broken circuitry while restoring the pilot’s battered body.
The Marines instantly shifted their aim.
A sweeping burst of Gauss fire sliced across the opening.
All three mutant brutes were cut clean in half.
The gap had appeared…
And vanished…
Before the enemy could exploit it.
Not a single monster ever reached the defensive line.
Four hours.
The firefight continued without interruption for four full hours.
The bunkers’ firing ports never stopped vomiting streams of blazing rounds.
Brass shell casings piled higher and higher across the metal floors.
Even the Marines’ rifle barrels glowed a dull crimson.
At last…
The final mutant collapsed just three meters from the bunkers.
Half of its skull had already been burned away.
Its body twitched twice.
Then lay completely still.
Only the stench of scorched flesh and vaporized acid remained inside the tunnel.
Blackened limbs, shattered chitin, and filthy wastewater formed a thick layer of sludge beneath everyone’s feet.
Leon opened the tactical interface.
[Minerals: 1] [Vespene Gas: 240] His eyelid twitched.
The prolonged barrage had consumed an unbelievable amount of ammunition.
The Barracks’ supply network had continuously warped in fresh magazines.
Each resupply chewed away another bite of his mineral reserves.
Every piece of scrap metal they had scavenged from the Underhive had effectively become brass shell casings lying inside those bunkers.
“Big Guy.” “Clean up the battlefield.” The SCV rolled out from behind the defenses.
Its tracks crushed charred remains with an unpleasant crunch.
Two massive extraction tubes extended beneath its mechanical arms and plunged into the mountain of mutant corpses.
The high-frequency separation engine roared to life.
Alien flesh.
Acid glands.
Venom sacs.
Every piece of contaminated biomass that the Imperium considered the most dangerous source of genetic corruption…
Was sucked into the SCV’s purification chamber.
To the Imperium…
Touching even a fragment of this material could mean infection.
To StarCraft technology…
It was simply fuel.
[Vespene Gas +5] [Vespene Gas +12] [Vespene Gas +35] Green numbers began climbing rapidly.
Two hundred…
Four hundred…
Six hundred…
Each surge drained another pile of alien corpses until they shriveled into dry husks.
More than ten minutes later…
The tunnel, once packed with mountains of mutant bodies, had been completely stripped clean.
Only pale gray ash remained.
The final number stopped at…
875.
Leon let out a long breath.
He had finally confirmed something.
On this ruined world…
The swarm wasn’t just a threat.
It was also a resource.
Kill Tyranids.
Harvest Vespene.
As long as he could hold the line…
The more monsters came…
The richer he became.
The cycle of sustaining war through war had finally become reality.
With more than eight hundred units of Vespene…
The Factory no longer faced an energy shortage.
Now…
What he lacked was scrap metal.
Mountains of abandoned machinery.
A graveyard of steel that could be converted into Minerals.
Helena leaned against a damp support pillar.
Dust covered her black uniform.
Her face remained pale.
Yet her eyes never left the now-empty tunnel.
A year earlier…
The Second Hive City of Karas had suffered a Genestealer uprising.
Three companies of Imperial Guardsmen had been sent in to suppress it.
Those ordinary soldiers fought with standard-issue lasguns inside cramped streets.
The mutant brutes closed the distance with ease.
Lasfire barely scorched their chitin.
Each swing of a bone scythe sliced both man and weapon clean in half.
That battle lasted three full days.
More than a thousand Guardsmen died.
Only after Arbites heavy suppression vehicles crushed the uprising by force did the fighting finally end.
But today…
Leon Drake had stopped an even larger tide.
With only a handful of elite infantry.
Two temporary bunkers.
And a single engineering vehicle.
Afterward…
There was no need for Ecclesiarchy priests to spend a month burning contaminated corpses.
The yellow engineering machine simply rolled forward…
And every trace of alien flesh became ash.
Helena remained silent for a long time.
Her respect for Leon no longer came simply from witnessing miracles.
She had now seen an entire military system that could fight…
Resupply…
Recycle…
And continue expanding without pause.
That was far more terrifying than any sacred relic.
A relic could only be worshipped.
This system…
Could consume an entire Underhive.
Helena straightened her back and stepped beside Leon.
This time…
She did not kneel.
Instead, she stood at attention and struck the Arbites badge on her chest with a clenched fist.
“My lord.” “I request permission to continue serving as your guide.” Her voice was hoarse…
Yet unwavering.
“In the name of Holy Terra and the Golden Throne…” “I willingly become your Arbites witness upon Karas.” “Anyone who obstructs your purification mission…” “I shall judge as an accomplice to heresy.” Leon turned to look at her.
This time…
He didn’t find her troublesome.
She had finally changed from a rescued patient…
Into a valuable Imperial banner he could actually use.
He casually waved a hand.
“Enough.” “The frontline moves forward.” He pointed into the darkness ahead.
“We’re burning through too much ammunition.” “I need large-scale scrap deposits.” “Or better yet…” “A military armory.” Helena immediately switched back into professional mode.
Walking to the wall, she sketched a rough map with the butt of her Bolt Pistol.
“The red flare we just saw was a Genestealer Cult rally signal.” “Their main forces deeper within the Underhive will notice something is wrong very soon.” “Three kilometers from here lies an abandoned Arbites transfer depot.” “It once stored heavy riot-breaking equipment and a reserve of Promethium fuel.” “The roads were sealed during the riots half a month ago.” “The depot has remained untouched ever since.” “We have to seize it before the swarm surrounds us.” “Promethium?” Leon’s eyes immediately lit up.
Promethium could be converted into Vespene.
Heavy armor-piercing equipment could provide enormous amounts of Minerals.
That depot had just become his next objective.
“Ada.” “Recycle the bunkers.” The SCV immediately cut power to both defensive structures.
Its welding torch reversed direction.
Heavy armor plates and internal support beams dissolved into streams of blue warp light.
The massive structures were converted into data and returned to the system.
[Bunkers Dismantled.] [75% of construction resources refunded.] Leon’s Minerals climbed back to 150.
He glanced over his force.
“All units…” He paused for a moment.
“…Advance together.” The two Firebats took point.
Their crimson armor echoed through the tunnel with heavy metallic footsteps.
The Marines advanced behind them in alternating cover formations.
The Medics stayed near the center.
The SCV brought up the rear, ready to repair or salvage anything at a moment’s notice.
Helena walked just behind Leon’s right shoulder.
Her Bolt Pistol remained lowered.
Her eyes constantly searched every intersection and side passage.
The squad advanced deeper into District Four through the drainage network.
The water beneath their boots grew deeper.
The smell of industrial chemicals became increasingly intense.
Dim yellow lamps flickered overhead.
Their reflections stretched into wavering shadows across the filthy water.
Then…
Ada’s voice suddenly rang through the tactical network.
[Warning.] [Massive lifeform detected fifty meters beneath the surface.] [Target ascending rapidly.] [No matching records found in database.] Leon stopped instantly.
The next second…
The concrete beneath his feet bulged upward.
Cracks exploded across the ground, tearing the floor apart.
Filthy wastewater poured into the widening fissures.
A deep-purple chitinous limb the size of a water tank…
Covered in vicious barbs…
Punched through half a meter of reinforced concrete.
BOOM!
The gigantic limb slammed into the ground barely an inch in front of Leon’s boots.
Chunks of broken concrete struck his greaves.
Leon looked down.
If he had taken one more step…
He would already be dead.
Ada calmly added, [Recommendation: Next time, lead with your left foot.] Leon clenched the unlit cigar between his teeth and slowly stepped backward.
“You really know how to comfort people.” From the depths below the shattered ground…
Something enormous…
Was climbing toward the surface.