Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 1498 The Lunar War (Part 10)

"Calm down, Aparishia!"

"I haven't lost control, Lieutenant," Aparisha gasped over the comms. He continued wielding his sword, slicing through the deformed body before him; the strenuous activity didn't tire him. As long as the nutrient delivery system within his power armor functioned, genetically modified warriors could fight for hundreds, even thousands of hours without rest. He felt only rage now, and he was suppressing it. "Your mission."

"We haven't been hacked. The Archaeopteryx team's communications were interrupted because this airtight door and the walls here have signal blocking capabilities. This is to prevent anyone from manipulating the equipment here via radio signals. The mutant witch here locked that door; the mutants here have higher privileges, and we don't know much about this system," Lieutenant Nelson said in a tone capable of freezing a person to death. "If you could put down your sword now and maintain your explosive rifle, I would be extremely grateful."

"Mars technicians investigated the dormant system... It was indeed artificial intelligence, but it didn't meet the prohibition standards and was completely different from the standard code used by Attilan. However, they still uploaded a program to prevent the system from fully reviving, because that program controls a spaceship. A starship over ten kilometers long, and that ship is currently embedded in the middle of the Attilan base, ready to detach at any moment!" Lieutenant Nelson transmitted electrical signals using a neural interface, which his prosthetic arm translated into specific commands, retracting the universal data interface into the space beneath the metal arm. He hadn't wanted to take on this task; he was an experienced soldier, but Aparishia truly needed a technician. Not necessarily with advanced technology, just someone who knew how to use tools. "Do you have any leads on that alien witch?"

"The brothers' tactical goggles recorded the footage."

"Okay, upload it to me on the communication link. Also, the reconnaissance soldiers' video communications; we need to plan the next attack."

Lieutenant Nelson stepped out of the control room and skillfully directed his team to lay anti-personnel mines in the corridor. He then uploaded the mine location markers to the combat system and manually deactivated control permissions to prevent friendly personnel from accidentally triggering them after the battle. Although they were anti-personnel mines, their function was essentially geared towards anti-armor targets. They should be on the highest alert for every enemy at the Attilan base and absolutely not give them any chance of survival.

About thirty seconds later, Lieutenant Nelson walked through the charred and broken dark passage to Aparisha's side. The latter was bathed in the blood of the Inhumans. In the places barely illuminated by the emergency lights, blood could be seen dripping from the ceiling. The floor was soaked with blood and entrails, so slippery that one could not stand without using the magnetic attraction function and the power armor's attitude compensation function.

"How many did you kill? These fragments are too small for me to count." Lieutenant Nelson stared intently at the warrior compressed into a small ball on the ground. It wasn't an illusion; it was the work of a victim of witchcraft. The alien witch, unable to extract their memories, instead slaughtered their brethren before their very eyes. Randolph, a brave warrior who had killed over a dozen wizards, hundreds of snake people, and countless cultists, regretted that Randolph's war had come to an end. "Let's get out of this stinking place quickly."

"Haha. That's hilarious, isn't there still half a body over there?" Aparisha let out a dry laugh. "The shield unit and waterworks in the white room. Two kilometers away, I bet a bomb there are at least fifty mutants, and at least one wizard."

Nelson ejected two explosive rounds from the magazine and handed them to Aparishia, who then put them into the magazine.

"Remember what we discussed at the war council? This battle could last more than two days. We must maintain high-intensity combat and eliminate all targets that don't meet the standards of subhumans, such as that alien witch we encountered earlier. As for those that look human, let the Guardian Order, the Genetic Research Lab, and the Kamar-Taj Psionic Academy judge them. I like this decision; it will save a lot of time." Lieutenant Nelson inspected his explosive rifle. He had only used two magazines since the start of the battle, but for the other knights, ammunition consumption had already exceeded sixty percent. After all, the combination of abundant firepower and unerring accuracy allowed the knights to create an invincible offensive advantage.

This is how they got here. With a total of forty people (five killed, thirty-five remaining), two assault teams, and a ten-person reconnaissance team, they cleared out more than forty-two floors of mutants, including wizards and superpowered individuals, and dealt with all kinds of completely unfamiliar technologies and magic. The various damages on their power armor are proof of their battles.

But this is far from enough.

The intensity and strangeness of this battle far surpassed any war they had ever experienced—enemies were everywhere they looked, and sometimes they couldn't even tell which phenomena belonged to which enemy. Fortunately, as the appearances of the enemies they encountered gradually became fixed, and their genetic mutations and epigenetic traits became more similar, their abilities also became less diverse. The Chimerian clan, with their white, long skulls, had slender limbs but powerful mental abilities, and their leaders were usually wizards; the Ghost clan, with their lizard-like appearance, were extremely strong, almost as strong as genetically modified warriors, their claws capable of cutting through metal, and their hides able to deflect the impact of projectiles. In each encounter, the enemy's organization clearly improved—even the most oblivious Inhumans should have realized it by now; the assault teams' attack routes were very obvious, and as key facilities fell one by one, even an idiot would realize their next attack plan.

The second battle group has begun to take control of transportation equipment such as industrial elevators, and they are able to obtain more support.

However, the fire support forces have very little room to maneuver within this base, so the second combat group is mostly composed of armored units. If possible, Lieutenant Nelson would not mind using heavy artillery or rockets to strike the target area first, but the fire support forces' heavy artillery can only attack the upper levels of the Attilan base, compressing the mutants' space to maneuver and using flames to force those creatures into their gun barrels.

Now they must kill their way through room to room, corridor to corridor, until all threats are eliminated. They can only rely on the thermobaric warheads of man-portable missiles to destroy high-value, heavily protected targets, reducing their firepower density several levels. If they could deploy a few armored vehicles, their work would be much easier; currently, only armored units can keep up with their pace and delay the enemy's counterattack. Lieutenant Nelson could imagine the spire of Attilan engulfed in flames. He could feel the thermobaric warheads melting the metal supports, the bunker-buster bombs blasting through the concrete, and everything the mutants had built with witchcraft and alien technology collapsing as the burning tower crumbled, buried under the rubble, ultimately turning to ashes on the moon.

It felt good, but he pulled himself out of the fantasy of slaughter.

War requires reason, but fighting requires anger.

"I suggest we resupply before advancing. The second combat group has already established supply points and safe routes, and we can call in transport drones to deliver ammunition. The enemy is now prepared, and I suggest a few minor modifications to the plan—from the start of the campaign until now, we've been converging into a single, sharp sword, but it's not sharp enough. A weapon that can't cut through armor is worthless—delay the armored forces' attack on and hold the waterworks, and instead join us in attacking the shield core. I believe that two forces operating together will be much faster. We need more firepower and more flamethrowers; if we can't control that area, then nobody can get those facilities," he said. "Malcolm is coming soon; he'll be in the final battle. I know you two don't get along, but I hope you won't punch him when you're trying to get rid of him."

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(End of this chapter)