Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 1604, Chapter 1600: The Lunar War (116)

Aparisha found this amusing, for even he himself didn't know why he was interested in Constantine's proposal. He followed with great interest, calmly recounting his demands amidst the splattering blood and flesh, completely unconcerned whether Constantine or the other guards were listening. He had challenged Constantine to a duel more than once, but all of these requests had been rejected without exception.

Chemical psychological intervention and brain implants have, to some extent, transformed the psychology of genetically modified soldiers to a near-human level. Conventional psychoanalysis cannot be applied to these superhumans. Therefore, the Immortal City has established a completely new psychological model to analyze the behavior of genetically modified soldiers. The core of this model is the Emperor's concept: every genetically modified soldier is a violent and ruthless war machine. However, to allow them to focus on their missions and avoid being influenced by other emotional factors, their chemically treated brains lose many of the emotions that humans exhibit in response to external stimuli.

To ordinary humans, these superhumans, as cold as steel, lacked normal human emotions; they were merely tools for the emperor to inflict extreme violence upon his enemies. They showed no emotional fluctuation from their own acts of violence in war, nor did they react to witnessing the inhumane acts of certain armed factions—to them, whether religious militants shoved people into meat grinders or ate human flesh made no difference. The role of the genetically modified soldiers was to eradicate superstition and its followers. When the genetically modified soldiers secretly escorted a survey team into Iraq, they incidentally wiped out a group of religious militant guerrillas they happened to encounter. Then, without batting an eye, the genetically modified soldiers shoved the militants alive into meat grinders, exactly as the latter had done to civilians, except that the genetically modified soldiers did not cheer. Their expressions were as if they were facing a dull food processing assembly line, only wanting to finish their work as quickly as possible.

“We need to cooperate, Constantine.” Aparishia’s battle axe flashed, leaving only a blur. He could barely see Constantine’s movements; the monsters blocking the Royal Guard’s path died in the blink of an eye. The Royal Guard, in formation, plunged straight into the crowded sea of ​​alien beings formed from ethereal entities, allowing the Sisterhood to unleash their heat guns on the ethereal aliens trying to get close. “Cooperation requires honesty. How can we cooperate if I don’t know the limits of the Royal Guard?”

Aparisha glimpsed the end of the column, the meat grinder-like battlefield of the genetically modified warriors.

These elite genetically modified warriors were no ordinary fighters; they were managing the current situation. Scales scraped against the shields, emitting piercing screams, while countless claws of varying sizes frantically clawed at the shield's edges. The surging ethereal alien entities were completely unable to breach their defensive line from behind. The genetically modified warriors fought and retreated, leaving a path of corpses and various bodily fluids between the ethereal alien entities, ensuring that the Sisterhood fighters in the middle had enough space to effectively use their molten guns.

"My warriors are bleeding, Constantine."

Constantine frowned, still not understanding why Aparisha was standing beside him, interfering with the operation. "I accepted your invitation to participate in this mission, but you must tell me the mission information." Aparisha pointed to her helmet. "Don't think I can't see that the document with the Guardian Order's markings has been modified multiple times. I know there's a portal below, but what else did the reconnaissance drones see beyond it?"

The steel storm gradually subsided, leaving the area littered with the corpses of Aetherian aliens. Constantine took out a magazine and reloaded his rifle. The bolt-action pistol, its bolt held shut, snapped back into service, and the Commander of the Guards fired two bursts, killing the Aetherian alien attempting to breach the steel staircase a hundred meters away. The alien exploded like a bag stuffed with juice, its corrosive blood splattering onto the wall behind it, etching a large hole filled with black cables.

"I need genetically modified warriors to hold off the Aetheric Xenomorphs' attack and buy Catherine time." Constantine's answer made Aparishia want to swing her axe at him, but the Commander of the Guard seemed oblivious. He casually took a half-step to the right, and a garrison spear pierced past him, striking an Aetheric entity that emerged as he rounded the corner. There was little light here, only the flashes of bullet guns providing fleeting illumination. The Commander of the Guard was unaffected by the flashes of gunfire around him; he steadily raised his spear and pulled the trigger again. Without even looking, Aparishia picked up her plasma pistol and fired a ball of white-hot plasma, delivering the final blow to Constantine's target.

"That's all you need to know, Aparisha."

"I'm such an idiot for choosing such an easy topic for you. Since you're unwilling to talk about the arena, you'd better think this mission is worth my soldiers' lives. Don't think that only the Royal Guard has access to classified missions. You're just bodyguards, and we're soldiers. We've shed more blood. You're not the Emperor's only armed force, and you don't have the right to handle all missions on his behalf. He'll trust us more on the battlefield."

Neither Constantine nor the other guards answered; they continued their silent slaughter as always, and even Aparishia's attacks did not alter the established rhythm of the battle.

“I won’t abandon the mission over something like this, Constantine. We fight for the Emperor’s ideals, not for power.” Aparisha struggled to conceal his rage. He swung his battle axe, and the upper half of the aetheric entity vanished as if in an explosion. The Royal Guard kept a close eye on Aparisha out of the corner of their eyes, their muscles tense, ready to respond to any possible attack from the First Army Commander. “We will meet again in the palace, Constantine.” To the Royal Guard Commander’s surprise, Aparisha did not attack. He lowered his axe, staring intently at the Royal Guard Commander. “I hope you have a decent explanation then.”

Regent Victor von Doom couldn't help but sigh.

While not all members of the Royal Guard were arrogant, their secretive style could easily lead to misunderstandings. He felt it necessary to inform the Emperor of the conflict between the Royal Guard and Aparishia, given that the genetically modified warriors possessed a violent and bloodthirsty genetic trait that the Royal Guard lacked; a conflict between the two sides would be an unacceptable loss. The force advanced, with armored convoys forming a defensive line to intercept any Aetheric alien entities attempting to enter the maintenance tunnel to intercept the mixed squads. The overwhelming firepower meant this special operations group didn't need to focus entirely on holding off enemy forces behind their lines. The genetically modified warriors' outstanding performance reduced the number of monsters tracking them. Eventually, Aparishia even ordered the genetically modified warriors to set up automated turrets and form a separate advancing line.

This decision nearly doubled the speed of the special operations team's advance.

Unlike the Royal Guard's quiet and precise fighting style, the battlefield of the genetically modified warriors was filled with roars and violence. Each genetically modified warrior unleashed the full power of their flesh and power armor against the aetheric alien entities, their electronic muscles emitting strained, metallic screams. The brutal, savage, and even highly efficient combat stimulated everyone's nerves, to the point that Catherine and the Sisterhood joined in this bloody symphony with their own firepower.

The genetically modified warriors unleashed unparalleled physical violence upon the disorganized aetheric alien entities until their flesh and blood completely collapsed. Only then did their shield wall and barrage take a solid first step—the Royal Guard then plunged into the enemy ranks, beginning a new round of slaughter. The guards' spears whipped up a storm of black and red flesh, and explosive gunfire flashed like thunder in the darkness. To the genetically modified warriors, the Royal Guard commander's actions were tantamount to deliberately falling into a trap. However, their bloodthirsty violent impulses made them cheer for this action. Regardless of any disagreements between the genetically modified warriors and the Royal Guard regarding the mission, this magnificent battle deserved the applause of any honorable warrior.

The sudden high-level communication request did not intend for this violent process.

"Your Excellency, the First Army General has completed his mission!"

Hearing Aparishia's voice on the communication channel, Constantine finally couldn't help but curl his lip and tighten his grip on his rifle. If he could, he'd add the word "naive" to Aparishia's file label. This was clearly not a psychological characteristic a genetically modified warrior should possess, but Aparishia's behavior made Constantine believe he deserved that label. The Commander of the Royal Guard's response was merely a cold shake of his head, leaving one unable to discern his thoughts. The other Royal Guards standing beside Constantine also remained silent, like cold, mechanical machines, executing their killings with precise precision. "I will now assume command of this mixed squad," the First Army Commander declared loudly. "I will lead this squad to the coordinates sent by the Regent as quickly as possible. The portal's priority is reduced to Crimson."

Constantine stood before the last door.

"Except for the Guardians, all other armed personnel have joined the First Army and the chain of command. The Guardians will return to their original mission. The First Army and the Sisters of the Legion, please arrive at the portal coordinates on time after completing your mission."

The Commander of the Royal Guard quickened his pace. Catherine nodded and quickly stood beside Tita, beginning to fill the firepower gaps left by the genetically modified warriors, until the gunfire subsided and the deck was littered with spent shell casings. Although she didn't know why Victor von Doom had chosen a location so far from the portal, the Emperor had instructed Catherine to follow the Regent's orders throughout, and Catherine believed the Emperor must have his own secret mission to complete. As for the location of the portal, she didn't actually know until the reconnaissance drones arrived; she only knew that she and Constantine had completed their mission in a dream. However, when she arrived here, she understood everything.

Now is not the time for her to move forward.

Constantine stared at the colossal airlock, twenty meters high, its rusted alloy and steel walls turning the entire deck a fiery red. The power armor's detection systems constantly warned of the intense heat beyond. After retrieving the key given to him by the Emperor, the rusted gears creaked laboriously, and the airlock opened with an irritatingly slow pace. Constantine glimpsed a golden flash behind the door, and a steel wing spewing flames swept through the air before plummeting down. Only after the genetically modified warriors and the Sisterhood had departed did the Royal Guard begin communicating on their channel. "This was a very special mission," the Royal Guard Commander seemed to understand something. "It was a prophecy, a prayer; He has secured victory for us. Now we simply need to follow the path He has laid out."

"What does this mean, Commander?" Hannibal asked.

“Maximus and Black Bolt are still alive,” Constantine said. “In another dimension, there is no linear time, and subjective consciousness can influence objective facts. The portal is behind us now; it guides me to the path of victory. I will now go to carry out my orders; you will wait here.”

When primitive humans drew hunting scenes on rock walls, it was a prophetic ritual. This ritual prayed for a successful hunt, ensuring enough meat to feed the tribe. The primitive humans were drawing scenes of the future, locking onto a suitable future. Constantine's dream was a ritual, locking onto a future scene and bringing it to fruition in reality. The battles in the dream will be reenacted in reality until the future I have chosen arrives.

Constantine felt that everything in front of him was familiar.

Maximus and Black Bolt's enormous, mutated bodies, the air heated by molten iron, the phantom-like Royal Guards and Catherine—yes, there was another Catherine here. However, unlike the Catherine created out of thin air by the Emperor, this Catherine's body struggled between illusion and reality—she saw Constantine at a glance, then looked at another Royal Guard, whose figure was also blurry, and understood everything in the blink of an eye.

"How many times is this?"

"The one hundred and twenty-ninth time," Constantine replied. He raised his spear. "And the last time."

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(End of this chapter)