Andy led his special operations team, laden with spoils, as they vanished into the intricate underground pipe network of Sector Nine.
They left cleanly, leaving no evidence behind—only an "empty ship," its control core stripped bare but its hull still bristling with weaponry.
Dozens of kilometers away, the battle at the Acid Swamp had reached a fever pitch.
Although the Helios Group's armored units had suffered through the first round of heavy artillery bombardment and the annihilation of their motorcycle squads, Zeman proved himself an experienced veteran commander. In a remarkably short time, he managed to reorganize the formation.
Combat engineers drove armored bulldozers through sporadic shellfire, forcibly leveling a path through the ruins.
The "Iron Tide" surged forward once again.
This time, Zeman had learned his lesson. He abandoned dense charges in favor of an extremely dispersed formation.
Each Leman Russ tank maintained a distance of over two hundred meters from the next, and the infantry fanned out into skirmish lines, leapfrogging between the cover of ruins and craters.
This approach was slow—crawling like a turtle—but highly effective.
The accuracy of the heavy artillery fired from Bauer's side plummeted. A 155mm howitzer shell isn't a guided missile; hitting a dispersed, maneuvering target directly is incredibly difficult. Most shells exploded on empty ground; though the spectacle was grand, the actual impact was negligible.
"Pressure them! Everyone, push up!" Zeman ordered over the command channel. "Their shells aren't infinite. They can't sustain a bombardment of this intensity for long."
"Once we're in Leman Russ range—since their Basilisks that can hit from seven kilometers are gone—our tank guns can pin them down and crush them!"
Under his command, the main Helios force finally pushed to the edge of the Acid Swamp, a mere three kilometers from the base. From here, they could see the high concrete walls and the chimneys belching black smoke behind them.
"In range!"
A Leman Russ ground to a halt. Its turret swiveled, the dark maw of its cannon zeroing in on a sentry turret atop the wall.
BOOM!
A high-explosive shell streaked out. A bloom of fire erupted on the wall; the sentry turret, along with half of the upper wall section, was blown into the air.
"Hit! Keep firing!"
With the first confirmed kill, Helios's morale soared. Over a dozen tanks opened fire simultaneously, raining shells down upon the base. The walls were sturdy, but they couldn't withstand this kind of gnawing destruction. Concrete fragments sprayed everywhere, and some sections were already collapsing.
However, just as Zeman thought victory was in sight and prepared to order the infantry charge...
Whirrr—clack—whirrr—
Suddenly, a strange sound of mechanical gears grinding echoed from behind the walls.
Immediately following, twenty massive black silhouettes peeked their heads over the wall.
What... what on earth is that?
Zeman froze, peering through his binoculars.
He saw twenty giant metal creatures resembling featherless ostriches. They used their reverse-jointed mechanical legs to nimbly scramble up the earthen slopes on the inner side of the perimeter wall.
They didn't hide behind cover to fire in high arcs like traditional self-propelled guns.
Instead, they leveled those long, massive cannon barrels completely flat.
What the hell?!
Direct fire!
155mm heavy artillery, at a distance of less than three kilometers, used for direct fire!
In the fire-control logic programmed by Andy, there was no need to calculate ballistic drop at this range. You just point and shoot!
"No... that's not scientific—" Zeman's pupils dilated.
The next second.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Twenty heavy cannons spat fire simultaneously.
This time, it wasn't the slow, high-arcing fire from before. The shells crossed the three-kilometer gap in an instant, smashing directly into the faces of the lead Leman Russ tanks.
At such close range, with such large calibers and Andy's custom triple-base propellant, the kinetic energy was terrifying.
CLANG!!
The first Leman Russ took a direct hit to its front. Although its frontal armor was thick and wasn't pierced through, the massive impact flipped it over like a toy car. It rolled twice before stopping; its treads were snapped, and the crew inside had likely been turned into mincemeat by the shockwave.
The second tank fared worse. The shell struck the gap in the turret ring.
KABOOM!
The entire turret was blown over ten meters into the air, and the interior of the hull instantly turned into a furnace.
"Direct fire?! And saturated strikes?! Are they insane?!"
Zeman felt his worldview collapsing. What kind of self-propelled artillery operates like this? It was like a sniper suddenly charging into your face and pulling the pin on a grenade!
Bizarre as the tactics were, they were devastatingly effective.
The high mobility of the "Iron Ostriches" allowed them to fire a shot and immediately crouch or strafe sideways, retreating behind the wall. Meanwhile, the Helios tanks had to readjust their turret angles. This created an incredibly frustrating "kiting" artillery tactic.
I peek, blast you, and hide. You fire back, hitting where I used to be. I peek out from somewhere else and blast you again.
"Retreat! Reverse! Reverse!" Zeman shouted in desperation.
In this narrow fringe zone, his tanks couldn't deploy. They were sitting ducks for the enemy's heavy guns.
But it wasn't over.
Just as the Helios forces fell into chaos from the direct-fire barrage...
"For Boss Andy! For the Starch Balls!!"
Accompanied by a deafening battle cry, a black army swarmed out from all directions.
Over two hundred heavy infantrymen clad in T-9000 heavy exoskeletons, armed to the teeth!
They moved with incredible speed; the hydraulic assist of the exoskeletons allowed them to cover three or four meters in a single stride. They didn't carry rifles—instead, they were equipped exclusively with XPG-200 rocket launchers and CBS high-explosive crossbows.
In a close-quarters chaotic brawl, this loadout was a nightmare for armored units.
"Infantry cover! Where is the infantry cover?!" Zeman's scalp tingled as he watched the black figures rushing toward them like rabid dogs.
The Helios mercenaries tried to lay down suppressive fire. Laser beams struck the charging soldiers but were absorbed by thick composite armor plates, leaving only scorched marks. Only bolter rounds managed to cause effective damage, but against such high-speed, heavy-armored units, the effect remained limited.
It was pure despair. You couldn't break their defense, but one hit from them meant instant vaporization.
Swoosh—swoosh—swoosh—
Hundreds of rockets and explosive bolts blanketed the area.
The Chimera troop carriers that hadn't managed to reverse in time were instantly turned into burning torches. Even the remaining Leman Russ tanks were battered into a shameful retreat by the concentrated fire.
Side armor was pierced, treads were blown apart, and engine covers were sent flying. The "Iron Tide" had turned into a "Scrap Metal Tide" before these Underhive thugs forged by Andy.
Zeman watched the scene, the communicator slipping from his hand.
It was over.
The enemy's equipment level, tactical discipline, and that suicidal ferocity had completely crushed his so-called "elite" force.
"Retreat... full retreat..." Zeman croaked out his final order before collapsing into his chair. He had lost—utterly and completely.
Half an hour later.
The battlefield was a mess of debris. Burning tank husks and mercenary corpses were scattered everywhere.
Bauer paced around a destroyed Leman Russ like a conquering general.
"Hahaha! Brilliant! This is too damn good!" Bauer's voice boomed across the field via a loudspeaker. "I told you this would work! Open fire and blast their mothers!"
Gamma-9 was leading the engineering team, scurrying around like a swarm of industrious ants, frantically stripping usable parts from the tanks.
"This engine is still good, take it!" "This lascannon can be fixed, tear it off!" "Ooh, this armor plate is nice. Let's take it back and make a new gate for the Sage!"
Just then, the familiar roar of an engine echoed from the distance.
A gray shuttle skimmed low over the battlefield, landing steadily on the base's landing pad. The hatch hissed open.
Andy, clad in his bright yellow robes, stepped down. He surveyed the mountain of spoils and the smoldering tanks in the distance, his electronic eye flickering.
"Sss... It seems I've returned just in time." Andy's voice was calm, but it carried an irrepressible note of satisfaction.
"Well fought."
The crowd roared in unison: "Boss Andy!"