Urged on by Reinhard, Pyro and his original ten-man squad hastily matched the Space Marine's pace. They moved along the winding supply route at the edge of the trench line.
The air was thick with the smell of gunpowder, mud, and an indescribable biological stench—the distinct odor of the Tyranid swarm.
As they moved, a faint energy fluctuation rippled near Pyro. Immediately following, forty translucent figures materialized out of thin air, solidifying on Pyro's left and right.
"Yo, guys, you made it!" Pyro proudly jabbed his chin toward Reinhard. "See? I told you they'd be here."
Reinhard merely glanced at the group of players that had suddenly appeared, his gaze utterly unmoved.
"All Helldivers, assume combat formation and follow me," Reinhard's voice was deep and powerful. Although the forty newcomers had just respawned and were a bit confused, they instinctively felt the Space Marine's presence.
They quickly dropped their joking, integrated swiftly with the original ten-man squad, and followed Reinhard as he led them rapidly toward the Tyranids' main front line.
The deeper they advanced, the more intense the foul stench became, and the roar of the battle grew clearer. The first sight that greeted them was a shocking one: massive Leman Russ tanks, their chassis deeply buried in the scorched earth and rubble, leaving only their thick, sturdy turrets exposed.
These Leman Russes, of various models, had been converted into semi-permanent bunkers. This was a common and effective tactic used to quickly re-purpose damaged or soon-to-be-damaged armor and maximize its usefulness during a massive Tyranid counter-attack.
The guns of these steel fortresses were all pointed toward the rolling, mixed green and purple fog ahead. This was the Tyranids' unique spore cloud, mixed with large amounts of corrosive gas deployed by the Helldivers, shrouding the front line in a scene of apocalyptic hell.
"Boom! Boom! Boom!"
Every Leman Russ roared like an angry beast, continuously unleashing firepower into the dense fog. The main cannon fire was deafening, shaking the very ground. Each shell detonation tore a brief flash of fire through the gloom.
By the light of this fleeting orange-red glare, they could barely make out the terrifying, writhing, leaping, and charging silhouettes within the fog—countless Tyranid xenos, armed with claws, teeth, bone scythes, and grotesque, twisted faces.
Reinhard's gaze sharpened. He noted a Leman Russ Annihilator, whose turret-mounted twin-linked lascannons were tracking and striking a fast-moving Tyranid Executioner inside the fog with incredible precision.
This Executioner was huge, with thick limbs, and it swung massive bone scythes, trying to dart and weave through the mist to evade the attack. Yet, the Annihilator's laser beams were relentless, hitting its body with every shot.
"Sizzzz—!"
The scorching laser beams pierced the Executioner's carapace again and again, vaporizing scorched flesh in the heat. Even as the Executioner twisted, rolled, and leaped desperately, the twin-linked lascannons remained locked on, every shot finding its mark.
Only when the Executioner was reduced to half a body, twitching a few times before collapsing lifelessly, did the Annihilator's turret slowly traverse, seeking its next target.
"How are these Leman Russ tanks detecting the enemy?" Reinhard's voice held a note of confusion. In such dense Tyranid spore fog, visibility was minimal, and precise instruments like servo-skulls were easily affected or damaged. This level of precise targeting was surprising even to a battle-hardened Space Marine.
"Oh, that," Pyro dismissed it with a wave of his hand. "Those Mechanicus players have endless means and strength. Stuff like 'Byakugan,' 'Chronos,' and even 'Telepathy Towers'—all kinds of things that can get information through the spores. They have tons of it."
He paused, then added, "With both sides coordinating, these tank crews are basically using wallhacks. As long as the Tyranid is moving and breathing, they can pinpoint it and hit it dead on, every time."
Reinhard looked thoughtful. He was naturally familiar with the Mechanicus's technology tree. The previously unheard-of "Byakugans," "Chronos," and "Telepathy Towers" mentioned by Pyro sounded like advanced, perhaps even heretical, technologies.
Normally, such technology would be classified as either lost relics from the Imperium's Golden Age or outright Xenos tech.
The thought occurred to him: could the newly discovered planet of Perditia be concealing a large number of ancient ruins?
It was otherwise hard to imagine how the Mechanicum on Perditia could possess so much advanced technology that even he found unfamiliar.
However, these Tech-Priests from Peditia were using the technology so openly, without any attempts at secrecy. If they were targeted by others... Reinhard had barely finished the thought before realizing he was overthinking it. Peditia now had the backing of over a hundred thousand Space Marines. Who would dare touch them?
Even if some external enemy of the Imperium, or an ambitious heretical faction, dared to covet the "technology" on Perditia, the first reaction of the Helldivers on the planet probably wouldn't be fear, but... delight?
Reinhard could almost picture the light in the players' eyes and their eager expressions, as if greeting a feast.
Putting those concerns aside, Reinhard led the group further forward. They soon reached the actual front line.
The scene here was more brutal and chaotic than any they had witnessed before. Vast numbers of derelict tanks lay scattered across the scorched earth; some hadn't even been buried, their massive steel husks serving as temporary cover for the Helldivers and Astartes warriors. Shell craters were everywhere, the mud mixed with blood and gore, forming a foul-smelling swamp.
The sheer quantity of tanks was shocking. Some were ripped open, others melted through, and still others were corroded beyond recognition. This steel graveyard had even affected the Tyranid ecology: having consumed too much metallic residue, the Tyranids newly emerging from the spawning pools possessed an unnatural metallic sheen on their carapaces, reflecting an eerie glow in the dim battlefield light, making them look even more ferocious.
"Hiss! Hiss! Hiss..."
The unique chitinous chirps and clicking of the Tyranids, mixed with human roars and the crackle of lasguns, continuously echoed through the dense fog. The front line had devolved into a white-hot melee.
Looking at the hellish scene, Pyro swallowed hard. Although he had witnessed plenty of bloodshed, this scale of close-quarters combat still triggered a primal, instinctive reaction—the kind that affected him at a genetic level.
"What's the plan? Reinhard, who do we report to?" Pyro asked, habitually seeking a commander for assignment.
Reinhard didn't hesitate: "Forget about reporting. We go straight in!"
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I think telepathy towers might refer to psychic beacons from starcraft
but i don't know what Chronos is