The sinister hum of the Gauss Pistol resonated a second time, reducing another reptilian creature to a cloud of fine particles. The silence that followed was almost as deafening as the pack's shrieks. The two survivors, seeing the instant disappearance of their kin, retreated with fearful hisses before turning tail and disappearing between the rocks.
Julius lowered his weapon, his arm numb from the recoil and adrenaline. The smell of ozone and metallic dust filled his nostrils.
"Damn," he murmured, contemplating the Necron weapon in his hand. "That's... efficient."
< Threat neutralized. Remaining energy: 30/100 units.>
"That's the problem!" he exclaimed, frustration taking over. "I used 70 energy units for two shots! And you tell me it only recharges at one unit per hour? I'm going to die here before the day is out!"
< Correction, Host. Eliminating hostile lifeforms generates energy.>
Julius's eyes widened. A glimmer of hope lit up his gaze.
"What? When were you going to tell me?! How much?"
< Analyzing previous eliminations...>
< Reptilian creature alpha: +15 energy units.>
< Reptilian creature beta: +15 energy units.>
< Total energy available: 60/100 units.>
"Killing gives energy," repeated Julius, a carnivorous smile spreading across his face. "Okay. Now we're talking. I can farm, like in a game. To summon other things. Weapons, equipment... Can I summon people? Soldiers?"
< The summoning function can acquire conscious biological units, but only from their universe of origin designated by the system's "sci-fi" parameter. Not from the Host's current universe.>
"Only from their universe... So I could have... a Space Marine?" he asked, full of hope.
< Negative. The Warhammer 40k universe is the Host's current universe, not an external summoning source. Available sources include, but are not limited to: StarCraft, Halo, Mass Effect, Star Wars, etc.>
Julius thought for a moment. No Space Marine, but the idea was tempting. Then a major worry invaded him.
"Wait a second. If I summon a soldier, a real human (or other) with a mind and will of their own, will they obey me? Or will they rebel, take me for a god or a demon, and try to kill me?"
< No. Any unit, intelligence, or entity summoned by the System is intrinsically linked to the Host's will. Upon entering this world, they are imbued with absolute loyalty and devotion to you. You are their Commander.>
An enormous weight seemed to lift from Julius's shoulders. This was the most important clause of all. He could have a loyal army, without fearing betrayal or crises of faith. Now, he had to be strategic.
"Show me the summoning options. I want something that can give me a long-term advantage, not just another weapon."
A holographic menu appeared before him, listing categories: Weapons, Vehicles, Equipment, Buildings, Biological Units.
His finger, trembling with excitement, landed on Buildings. The list narrowed. He saw familiar names: Terran Bunker, Siege Factory, Protoss Forge... And then, he saw it.
[Terran Barracks - StarCraft]
Cost: 300 energy units.
Description: Basic infantry production building. Equipped with a recruitment bay, basic quarters, and an armory. Allows the training of Marines and Marauders. Requires a supply of mineral/metallic resources for optimal operation.
"A barracks..." he whispered, his heart pounding. "I could have my own army... Marines with Impalers..."
It was madness. But it was a madness that could save his life.
"Alright, System. New objective: accumulate 300 energy units. And these 'mineral resources'... we're going to have to scavenge those ruins."
He cast a glance towards the distant ruined city. It was no longer just a refuge. It was a potential base. A mine. A construction site.
He raised his Gauss Pistol, feeling the cold metal against his palm.
"Alright, you filthy beasts," he growled, looking at the horizon from where the creatures had come. "You want a fight? You'll get one. Each of you is worth 15 points."
With a new objective and a means to progress, Julius Braveheart set off, his gaze fixed on the ruins. Fear was still there, lurking in a corner of his mind, but it was now dominated by a brutal determination. He was no longer a lost victim in time. He was a farmer, and this hostile planet was his harvest field. And he was going to reap.