I summoned the Fourth Scourge in Warhammer

Chapter 198 Mechanicus Players: We're Running Away, Brothers, We're Running Away!
The high-efficiency killing power of plasma weapons brings an addictive thrill. After unleashing a barrage of firepower for a long time, players found that the endless swarm of Tyranids ahead seemed to have suddenly crossed an invisible boundary, becoming sparse and lacking momentum.

The players, who had been highly focused, were suddenly stunned by this scene. One player scratched his helmet and said uncertainly, "What happened? That's it...gone?"

Seeing the pitiful scene ahead, with no more reinforcements and only a few scattered blade worms and gun worms still instinctively charging forward, the players couldn't help but feel a sense of contempt.

"Tyron doesn't seem that great, all talk and no action."

"Exactly, I thought they were going to be much stronger, but they only have this many troops?"

"It's best not to underestimate them," the squad leader's voice rang out just in time, pouring cold water on everyone's hopes. "Terren's tactics are ever-changing, and they may very well be bringing in stronger units. Let's take out the remaining ones as soon as possible."

"Yes!" the crowd responded, raising their weapons to deal with the lone insects.

Just then, the player named "Big Bear" from the Oglin server hurriedly spoke up: "Wait, boss, don't kill them yet! Let's... let's capture them alive."

"Capture him alive?" The squad leader looked at him strangely. "Why? Keep him for the New Year?"

Oglin scratched the back of his large head and said in a simple yet excited tone, "I...I want to try what it's like to raise a Tyrannosaurus Rex."

There was a moment of silence in the trench after he said that, followed by a burst of exclamations. Everyone gave him a thumbs up: "Awesome! You're really good at this!"

"Holy crap, raising crickets as pet dogs? That's so punk!"

"I support this! Squad leader, let's go capture them alive! That would be so much fun!"

Even the class monitor was intrigued by this outlandish suggestion. He grinned and said, "Sure, why not make an arrest?"

As he spoke, he turned to try and recruit the Mechanicus player. After all, with a Mechanicus priest involved, his skills and equipment would make the capture much easier.

"Dude, wanna join us...?"

However, when he turned around and saw the scene behind him, the words caught in his throat, and he was completely stunned.

The mechanical priest, who should have been standing not far behind them, calmly recording data, was nowhere to be seen. In his place, in the distance, was a red figure rapidly receding, almost invisible.

Perhaps only the God of All Machines knows when he ran away and how he ran away so fast.

The other newbie players followed the class monitor's gaze and also noticed this scene, instantly becoming bewildered. They couldn't understand why the seemingly professional mechanic was running away. Weren't they in a great position right now, even having the leisure to catch pets?
"Oh no..." The squad leader was the first to react, and he practically squeezed the words out from between his teeth.

Before the words were even finished, the sky suddenly darkened. A massive amount of bone fragments, like a torrential rain, rained down from the sky, emitting a sharp whistling sound, instantly covering the entire position. These living ammunition, fired by the Tyrannosaurus long-range biological cannons, shattered into countless tiny bone fragments in mid-air, each carrying deadly kinetic energy and penetrating power.

The relaxed players had no time to react. The world was instantly filled with countless rapidly falling white lines in their eyes, and then their bodies were riddled with holes by this terrifying rain of bone spikes.

Prandim, Strategic Command.

On the enormous holographic star map, hundreds of points of light representing the outermost outposts have been extinguishing one by one at an alarming rate over the past hour, turning into a glaring red that signifies loss of contact. Cold electronic voices continuously transmit the last signals from each squad—usually a violent burst of energy readings followed by eternal silence.

[EGO] stood in front of the command console, watching the data stream cascade across the screen in front of him like a waterfall. A staff officer quickly walked to his side and handed him a data panel.

"The first line of defense has been completely cut off. The preliminary assessment has been completed."

EGO took the data panel and quickly scanned the reports. His finger swiped across the screen, finally stopping at a line of abnormal data.

“Most of the outer patrol teams initiated their self-destruction within ten to twenty minutes of contact with the Tyranids,” he said, pointing to the data. “But this patrol team held out for nearly an hour.”

He looked up at the staff officer beside him: "How did this team manage to hold out for an hour?"

The staff officer was clearly prepared; he knew the EGO wanted to know if this method of holding out could be implemented across the entire army. He immediately replied, "Sir, I've already inquired. Their situation is rather unique; they only achieved this level of capability with plasma weapons deployed on all personnel."

“Plasma for everyone…” A knowing glint flashed in EGO’s eyes, followed by a hint of regret as he said, “Alright.”

This answer eliminates any possibility of widespread adoption. Plasma weapons are incredibly powerful, but their instability, high cost, and complex maintenance requirements make them unsuitable for standard deployment.

The staff officer then added, "However, after compiling the battle reports from all the positions, we discovered a noteworthy situation."

"Most positions were attacked by the Tyranids at the same time. Although the time of their fall varied slightly by a few minutes due to differences in the individual skills of the garrisoned soldiers and officers, they were generally very close. These positions successfully inflicted heavy casualties on the Tyranids' vanguard cannon fodder by self-destructing, achieving remarkable results."

The staff officer paused, then pointed to another section of data on the dashboard: "However, some positions, such as Outpost 117, which held out for an hour, continued to resist because the main force of the Terran forces bypassed them, or because their firepower was stronger, causing other surrounding positions to fall. As a result, these 'protruding' positions were precisely eliminated from a safe distance by the Terran's long-range firepower units. Even though the thermobaric bombs detonated automatically due to the death of the squad leader, they didn't achieve any significant results."

EGO nodded: "It was expected, it won't have a big impact. The self-destruction was an open strategy."

“Terren can’t attack our positions without using ground units; it’s not just a single, isolated trench anymore. If they really intend to use long-range artillery on a large scale and only deploy a small number of line-filling units, hoping to just bomb their way through… then we should request Astartes’ assistance, gather Oglin and elite veterans, launch a counter-offensive, and force our way up to teach them a lesson.”

(End of this chapter)