In the simulated town, a group of Class-D personnel—typically chatty or prone to shouting expletives like "Atlas, go f yourself!"—were unusually silent. Each moved with a practiced agility and discipline indicative of significant combat experience. Some even removed their helmets, preferring to rely on their own senses rather than the helmet's digital displays.
Their faces were severely disfigured, skin red and cracked, with black, viscous blood seeping from cracks on some. Their eyes glowed faintly red, and their pupils had a reptilian, menacing quality. Two weeks prior, these Class-D individuals had undergone "modifications" by Atlas's biological division.
They had been injected with an improved 24th chromosome pair and had their spines replaced with cybernetic implants to enhance their reflexes and allow direct control from the biological division. If they resisted commands, the implants could be detonated to enforce compliance. Only the most violent and criminally inclined individuals, those with blood-stained hands, were chosen from the Class-D ranks for this experiment.
While the 24th chromosome granted them exceptional physical abilities, it also amplified their inner darkness, transforming them into twisted creatures. They were far more dangerous than even veteran Atlas soldiers who had received the Inquisitor Serum. Now, alerted by a broadcast announcement, the Class-D personnel split into squads of six to eight, positioning themselves strategically around the town's central area.
Among them, nearly 20% had survived past trials, earning them a level of respect among their peers. They were acutely aware that they were merely "supporting actors," expendable pawns used to generate live data for Atlas's "actual experimental subjects." However, the newfound strength and enhanced resilience had inflated their confidence. They believed that if they could ambush and eliminate Atlas's test subject, they might have a chance at escape.
As they waited, thoughts of freedom, violence, and dark pleasures filled their minds, causing some to grin uncontrollably. Suddenly, a piercing bell rang out, signaling that the test subject had entered the simulated town. Those with experience knew that Atlas rarely issued such warnings and often preferred to catch them by surprise to gather more authentic combat data. The fact that Atlas had announced the arrival suggested that this test subject's capabilities far surpassed even their augmented strength.
"Stay alert!" one Class-D member warned in a raspy voice over the comms. "This thing is probably tougher than anything we've faced before!"
The entire group gripped their hard-light weapons more tightly, with a few helmetless individuals regretting their choice to go without the helmet's visual assistance. In an apartment in the town's center, two Class-D personnel with hard-light machine guns crouched by a northern window. They set up their weapons on the balcony, activating their power armor's automatic targeting calibration for better precision.
Thud… thud… Their sensitive hearing picked up the sound of something heavy—perhaps magnetic boots—striking the ground. Instinctively, they turned toward the noise, adjusting their machine guns.
But before they could react, fwip—pow—pow! large-caliber rounds shot through the air, piercing their skulls with precision.
Boom—BOOM! The rounds detonated upon impact, emitting a brilliant golden flash and engulfing the room in flames. Smoke from the explosion started drifting up and outward.
The unmistakable sound of bolter fire echoed across the building, the distinct report of a weapon known to be wielded by towering, lightning-fast Astartes or Thunder Warriors. Fighting those giants? To them, it was as good as a death sentence.
"I've located…" one of the Class-D soldiers began to report but was abruptly cut off, followed by gunfire and an explosion, indicating that he, too, had met his end.
They deduced from the bolter sounds that the enemy was positioned about half a kilometer north of them—and possibly alone.
"It's just one guy… we can take him!"
A raspy voice commanded over the comms, "Forget ambushing! Surround him from all sides. Machine gunners, lay down suppressive fire from half a kilometer north. Everyone else, converge on that bastard from all directions. Let's kill him and break free! To hell with Atlas!"
"To hell with Atlas!!"
Motivated by the defiance, their morale surged. Outnumbering their target one hundred to one, they were confident in their odds. Many of them had committed heinous acts—murder, assault, and worse—making them more than ready to risk their lives in battle.
Tat-tat-tat! Hard-light beams filled the northern streets, illuminating the area in fiery red as they peppered the target's position. The beams left burning marks and holes in buildings, but the machine-gunners didn't relent, continuing their suppressive fire.
Meanwhile, squads wielding SMGs, shotguns, and hard-light rifles advanced swiftly from the east, west, and south, their enhanced physiques creating faint afterimages as they dashed through the streets. However, as the first few units rounded a corner…
BAM! BAM! BAM! Bolter fire rang out, shattering their helmets and armor, sending the first wave of Class-D personnel to the ground as lifeless bodies.
"Don't fear death! Keep going!"
"He'll run out of ammo eventually!"
Driven by desperation and rage, the remaining Class-D soldiers pushed forward. Shortly after, the target's bolter clicked empty, signaling an empty magazine.
Hearing this, they rushed from their positions, hoping to capitalize on the opportunity. As they closed in, they finally saw their adversary—a towering Astartes clad in silver power armor, standing over three meters tall, wielding a long spear and sporting a .75-cal bolter mounted on his left forearm. His armor bore intricate engravings in an ancient script, and his waist was draped with a white tabard, lending him the appearance of a medieval knight brought to life.
The street around him was scarred and burned, yet his silver armor remained pristine, protected by an energy shield and an advanced magnetic repulsion field. Despite recognizing his strength, the Class-D soldiers had no intention of stopping; only by killing him could they seize a chance at freedom.
Tat-tat-tat! Several Class-D soldiers charged, firing their weapons as they closed the distance, while the machine-gunners maintained support from afar.
Bzzt—! Yet their shots bounced off the Astartes' armor, with most deflected by the magnetic field and the rest absorbed by a shimmering golden energy shield.
Realizing that ranged attacks were ineffective, they decided to engage him in close combat. The first wave threw down their empty rifles and unsheathed 40-centimeter vibrating knives, aiming for the joints in his armor.
Bzzzt—! Suddenly, the Astartes' spear blade crackled with blue energy, enveloped in a field of psychic lightning.
Fwip—! With a swift motion, he swung the spear, creating a deafening sonic boom.
Szzzrrip—! His blade effortlessly sliced through power armor and mutated flesh alike. In an instant, the lead attackers lay dismembered on the ground, unable to react.
"Heh!" The Astartes' voice had a metallic quality. "I didn't want to slaughter my own kind, but I'm more than happy to put down scum like you!"
Thud! Thud! With those words, he picked up speed, rapidly moving through the simulated town and methodically eliminating the remaining Class-D soldiers.
It seemed as if he had intentionally used gunfire to draw them in, only to reveal his true skill in close combat.
Up in the observation room above the simulated town, the researchers monitored the operation.
"Ashford, the Drake Knight's performance exceeds expectations—his capabilities are at least six times that of a typical Astartes."
"Furthermore, the Holy Shield-type Terminator power armor for the Gray Knights is proving vastly superior to the Titan model."
The research team continued to relay data, while Alexia, draped in white robes and overseeing the experiment, reviewed the real-time feed. Standing beside her was Athena, clad in a light, ethereal gown, with her gaze fixed on the so-called "Drake Knight."
As he neared the end of his task, Athena asked, "Dr. Ashford, is this Gray Knights unit Samuel created meant to assist us Gray Adjudicators?"
"Assist, yes," Alexia replied, giving Athena a sidelong glance, "but to be precise, you'll be assisting them."
_________________________
[Check out my Patreon for +200 additional chapters in all my fanfics! Only $5 per novel or $15 for all!!] [[email protected]/Mutter]
[+50 Power Stones = +1 Extra Chapter]
[+5 Reviews = +1 Extra Chapter]