Warhammer: Empire Reboot

The most extreme silence command: Do not move, do not fire, and reduce vital signs as much as possible. The sole task is to maintain the system network connection like three antennas nailed to a subspace storm.

Their chances of survival in the impending series of explosions were virtually zero.

But this is the fate of suicide squad members.

"Coordinate anchor point in place."

Through the swarm network, Lawson said to the four of them, "I am proud of you."

Then, he stepped through the portal of light.

next second.

Lawson's combat boots landed light-years away in the Governor's office of Obulus.

Through the swarm intelligence that transcends light-years and dimensions, Lawson issued the final command.

"Countdown to detonation."

Light-years away, on the edge of a subspace storm.

The wrecked spaceship is dragging its mountain-like tail into the abyss of subspace.

Inside the labyrinthine interior of the wrecked ship, a massive melee had descended into its most frenzied phase.

A projection of a bloodthirsty monster roared, shattering the bulkhead. Its fiery whip melted the several-meter-thick metal walls into molten iron.

"Thief! Where is that soul-stealing thief?!"

Just a few dozen minutes ago, that human was frantically provoking them like a flea, attracting all the high-ranking demons and millions of vampires to the deepest part of the wrecked ship.

But just now, the thief and his white-clad warrior vanished into thin air.

There was no psionic trajectory from warp teleportation, nor any fluctuation from physical warp. It was as if it had been erased from the deepest code of the universe by some force that transcended the laws of warp.

The demons have no prey left.

This caused the already rampaging Khorne Legion to completely lose control.

And in this wrecked ship, there is never a shortage of targets for venting anger.

"WAAAAAAAAAAGH!!! Red-skinned shrimp! Take this axe!"

Hundreds of thousands of green-skinned orcs poured out from all directions, indifferent to whether their opponents were bloodthirsty daemons or unspeakable warp entities. The red monsters looked large and powerful, which meant a perfect battle was about to begin.

A warlord orc laughed wildly, raised a power chainsaw axe the size of a door, and charged fearlessly towards the great demon's flaming whip.

Red and green collided violently in the depths of the wrecked ship, which was about to sink into the subspace.

however.

Neither the green-skinned creatures that only knew how to kill, nor the demons that proclaimed themselves the ultimate terror in the universe, noticed that beneath, above, and all around their battlefields of frenzied slaughter, in the welded-together compartments and reactor pipes, were quietly stored millions of tons of high-energy explosives.

At the three deepest points of the wrecked ship.

Three assassins sat cross-legged in the dark adamantite warehouse, with armor tens of meters thick above their heads and the cold void around them, feeling neither fear nor regret.

"We are loyal, and we will never regret it even if it means dying ten thousand times."

The three whispered their final words within the swarm network.

drop……

The countdown has reached zero.

The detonation signal traveled at the speed of light throughout the net of destruction inside the wrecked ship.

Inside the main passageway and super-large cargo hold of the wrecked ship, thousands of tons of liquid promethium instantly vaporized and exploded under the ignition of the ignition device.

Within those completely welded-sealed enclosed spaces, the frenzied combustion of promethium sucked away all the air in a fraction of a second. A near-absolute vacuum of negative pressure instantly formed inside the wrecked ship.

The greenskins and demons, who were fighting fiercely, suddenly felt an unprecedented sense of suffocation.

The laws of physics have revealed their cruelest side.

The orc's eyeballs sprang from their sockets, his lungs ruptured in his chest cavity, and his capillaries burst open. The vampire's dark red skin cracked inch by inch, and warp fluid was squeezed out from every crevice. The cunning man's carapace was crushed.

This is just the prelude.

When the promethium is completely burned, the extreme high temperature causes the gas to expand geometrically. Following the negative pressure is an overpressure shock wave that sweeps across at more than twenty times the speed of sound.

At the core of the shockwave, the mountain of heavy artillery shells was instantly detonated.

The bulkhead tore apart like paper, and a sea of ​​plasma at tens of thousands of degrees Celsius, carrying millions of tons of metal fragments, raged along the passage like a raging fire dragon. Everything in its path was instantly shredded into mincemeat and then burned to ashes.

The interior of the wrecked ship looked as if a hundred miniature suns had been ignited.

Thermo-melting explosives were detonated precisely.

The main cooling circulation lines and magnetic confinement rings of the seven large starship reactors were simultaneously cut off.

Unconstrained plasma roared desperately inside the reactors, and in less than three seconds, all seven reactors simultaneously detonated in a chain reaction.

The enormous beam of energy pierced through the wrecked ship's tens of meters-thick outer armor, spewing out a beam of light that stretched for thousands of kilometers in the vacuum of space.

The fragile skeleton of the wrecked ship, forcibly pieced together from countless keels, finally broke with a deafening crack under the strain of the explosion and intense heat.

The 120-kilometer-long space wreck, torn apart by its own chaotic gravitational field and the inertia of sinking into subspace, split into a chasm several kilometers wide.

Billions of tons of steel debris were crushed, collided, and fell in the out-of-control gravitational field. The demons, cunning thieves, and greenskins who had survived the previous explosions stared dumbfounded at the metal dome collapsing like a continental plate.

Finally, with the complete tearing apart of the veil of reality, this massive, blazing wreckage sank into the abyss of chaos as it was swept away by the warp storm.

Countless demons, cunning creatures, and orcs were torn to pieces and vanished in droves.

The Governor's Office, Obolos 1 Main Nest City.

Only the mechanical clock was ticking.

At the very moment the wrecked ship exploded, in the last microsecond before the three anchor point suicide soldiers sacrificed their lives, the system's notification sound crashed down like a cosmic tsunami.

[Subspace Energy +12!]

[Subspace Energy +25!]

[Subspace Energy +120!]

[Biomass +70!]

[Health Points +25!]

[Reactor malfunction determination...]

[Structural collapse and crushing determination...]

No longer lines of text, but a waterfall of data interwoven with crimson and dark blue.

Fortunately, Lawson had learned from the previous data shock.

"Swarm! Close all voice and visual pop-ups! Perform silent background calculations!"

The notification sound disappeared instantly.

Lawson leaned back in his chair and downed the rest of his drink in one gulp. The fiery alcohol calmed the restlessness caused by information overload.

He waited.

Ten minutes, twenty minutes, half an hour later.

"Intergalactic physical/energy erasure determination complete. All resources have been intercepted and credited."

"Bring up the final harvest panel."

[Ultimate Demolition Battle: Space Debris Clearance and Settlement]

[Warspace Energy Gain: +60.7]

Life Points Gain: +215 million points

[Biomass +17 points]

Lawson's facial muscles twitched involuntarily.

They've struck it rich.

A scheme that utilized tens or even hundreds of thousands of tons of free imperial explosives made him incredibly wealthy.

"It wasn't for nothing that I went to all this trouble to take over this planet and develop explosives."

After the initial euphoria, Lawson quickly regained his composure.

He checked the node status of the swarm network.

As expected, the three anchor point assassins' glowing spots had turned into a gray color symbolizing death.

The explosion of the wrecked spaceship was more powerful than expected; even the thick cabins couldn't save their lives.

They have been erased from the physical realm of this universe.

“The price of loyalty,” Lawson murmured.

The sacrifice of the suicide squad enabled this data transmission.

But losing a node also means a regret.

The explosion was terrifying and devastating, but the wrecked ship was large enough not to be completely pulverized. However, the reactor explosion and structural collapse must have blown open the ancient warehouses, Mechanicus ruins, and even the secret arsenal from the Great Crusade era that had been sealed off by thick armor for tens of thousands of years deep inside the wrecked ship.

If you can go back now and take advantage of the lull to loot, the hidden STC fragments or Great Expedition weapons inside might be just as valuable as these system points.

Unfortunately, the node has been lost, and the wrecked ship has sunk into subspace.

"Never mind."

Lawson exhaled a long breath, severing that trace of greed.

"One shouldn't be too greedy, because how many stories are there of people being wiped out or becoming playthings of chaos because of greed? I've already eaten the fattest piece of meat. That's enough."

Lawson focused his attention on the system panel.

Two million life points are enough to mass produce troops again, but there are more important things to do now.

I've accumulated 10 points of subspace energy to improve my physical fitness. Including what I had before, my current reserves are 63 points.

This is the only resource that can directly rewrite the underlying genetic makeup, allowing him to break free from the shackles of mortals.

He brought up the [Host Enhancement] option:

[Gene Baseline Leap - Stage Three] Prerequisite: Stage Two leap has been completed.