The self-destructing shockwave of the Netherworld Type Fearless swept across the wasteland, turning a hundred-ter radius into a hell of molten lava. When Alvin crawled out of the scorching molten steel, only four green signals remained in his tactical goggles—Shaga and Tole were dragging unconscious comrades with their damaged power armor.
"Communication is restored!" Tole suddenly pointed to the sky, "The Alliance’s strike fleet!"
In the baptism of light spears descending from orbit, Alvin saw Gu Hang’s Phoenix Flagship tear through the clouds. But as his gaze swept over Nata’s remains, he discovered that the crushed chanical heart of the captain was seeping black liquid—the sa as the Fallen Angel blood he had seen on the Mirorilla battleship.
Shaga’s psychic communication pierced into his mind at this mont: "Underground... there’s sothing even bigger..."
The ground suddenly collapsed, revealing a genetic factory a thousand ters deep. Countless clones soaked in blood pools were awakening, and the birthmark of Bloody Wings appeared on their pale skin. Alvin raised his remaining left arm power claw, suddenly hearing Gu Hang’s voice directly in the neural interface:
"Well done, Sergeant Major. Now fall back—this Holy Blood Plague requires Phoenix Fire for purification."
When the first Whirlwind Torpedo hit the underground factory, Alvin finally understood the true secret of the Oath of Rembrance Battle Group. Those clones struggling in the incubator, each had a face similar to the Death Angel Primarch.
Alvin’s power armor servos emitted a faint hum, and the tactical goggles sliced the terrain within a five-kiloter radius into countless data fragnts. He half-kneeled behind the wreckage of the downed Dragon Elephant War Machine, watching twenty-three red dots on the holographic map encircle him in a fan shape—it was the hunting squadron personally led by Captain Nata.
"Hot-lt cannon position at seven o’clock, five Dreadnought chs." Shaga’s voice with a current noise on the encrypted channel, the Psychic was projecting his consciousness onto a high-altitude reconnaissance aircraft, "They have activated the Anti-Spiritual Barrier of the Holy Blood Emblem, I can only observe..."
The channel was suddenly filled with an ear-piercing hymn, and Alvin saw twelve blood-colored pillars of light rising from the horizon—that was the gene-locking force field unique to the Death Angel Battle Group. When the first Thermite Bomb lted the rock on the left side into a glass state, he finally saw Nata’s formation: thirty Inner Ring elite wearing Penitent iron chains, three Netherworld Type Fearless chs engraved with redemption scriptures.
"Spread out!" Alvin’s Gravity Hamr struck the ground, the recoil pushed him towards the right cover. The wreckage of the warplane he had been hiding in vaporized under the thermite beam, and the splattered molten tal droplets sizzled green smoke on the power armor.
The scream of the young recruit Tole suddenly rang out, this young man was swept away by the residual wave of thermite on his left leg, supporting his body with a Chain-saw Sword. Alvin rolled to avoid the strafing, and the tactical goggles suddenly captured the anomaly at Tole’s wound—Nanorepair Liquid was converting dark red blood into silver-white.
"Into the underground pipeline!" Alvin leaped towards Tole amidst the hail of bullets, the Gravity Hamr sweeping away two homing missiles, "Shaga, take team three to set up Shock Mines, everyone else, lead the Dreadnoughts away with !"
Nine figures sprinted across the wasteland, with three mountain-sized war machines in pursuit. Alvin listened to the fluctuating sounds of explosions in the channel, suddenly realizing the movent trajectories of these Dreadnought chs were unusually regular—they maintained an equilateral triangle formation, driving their prey towards a specific coordinate.
"Stop!" He braked sharply before a hundred-ter cliff, deeply inserting the power claw into the rock wall, "This is a Penitent trap!"
But it was too late. The ground suddenly collapsed, revealing a sacrificial pit full of Death Angel cryptograms below. Five Brotherhood mbers fell into the abyss without ti to react, Alvin hooked the Gravity Hamr in a rock crevice at the mont, seeing the densely packed chanical tentacles at the bottom of the pit—those were Genetic Collectors specifically designed for Interstellar Warriors.
"For the Holy Blood!" Nata’s voice ca from above, the captain stood on the cliff edge raising the Spiritual Energy Staff, "Your sacrifice will cleanse..."
Alvin suddenly released the Gravity Hamr, using the montum of the fall to stab the power claw into the rock wall. As Nata’s Scepter glowed red, he kicked against the rock wall with both legs, his entire body lunging at the captain like a cannonball. In the loud collision of the two sets of power armor mid-air, Alvin saw the emblem inside the opponent’s shoulder armor—identical to the Bloody Wings of Commander Mirorilla.
"You’re collecting gene samples!" Alvin’s hand armor clamped onto Nata’s throat, "Those chanical tentacles are not execution devices..."
The captain’s knee suddenly popped out a Poison Dagger, carving a deep scar on Alvin’s abdominal armor: "A clever puppy, but the Holy Blood Plan needs fresh carriers!"
The ground suddenly shook violently, and the chanical tentacles in the sacrificial pit shot out like giant pythons. Alvin used Nata as a shield to block the first wave of piercing, the power claw tearing off the captain’s power backpack pipeline. When the two fell to the pit’s bottom, Alvin suddenly slled the familiar scent of preservatives—the sa as the scene of the Genetic Seed Bank theft three months ago.
"So those missing recruits..." Alvin dodged the chanical tentacle’s strike, "were all transford by you into..."
Nata’s Chain-saw Sword suddenly burst out with blood-colored Spiritual Energy: "Becoming a container for the Primordial’s revival is the glory of these bastards!"
The desperate counterattack
A psychic scream from Shaga erged at the pit’s top, overloading all the cryptograms in the sacrificial pit. Alvin seized the opportunity to slam the Gravity Hamr into the ground, the explosion of the Antimatter Core blowing five chanical tentacles into fragnts. In the flying tal debris, he caught Nata’s right leg, swinging the captain violently against the rock wall.
"You used the offspring of the Battle Group as experintal subjects!" Alvin tore off Nata’s helt, revealing the scarred face riddled with stitches beneath, "No wonder the mortality rate..."
The captain’s pupils suddenly transford into a compound eye structure, the mouth split open revealing a Nerve Whip: "You simply don’t understand the burden of the Holy Blood!"
Alvin’s Gravity Hamr clashed with the Nerve Whip, the sparks illuminating ancient murals on the rock wall—the Death Angel Primarch implanting the heart of a bat-winged creature into his chest. This montary distraction cost him, as the Nerve Whip coiled around his right arm, sparks flying from the power armor’s joints.
"Your genes are special." Nata’s voice turned into multiple echoes, "More suited to be a container than those defective products..."
Alvin suddenly took the initiative to cut off the hydraulic pipe of his right arm, advancing into the captain’s embrace in the mont the Nerve Whip lost tension. The remaining left arm power claw stabbed into the opponent’s chest cavity, precisely crushing a pulsating chanical heart.
"Thanks for the complint." He stared at Nata’s gradually darkening compound eyes, "But my loyalty is not for sale."
A dense missile rain suddenly descended from the top of the pit, Shaga’s drone swarm finally breaking through the Anti-Spiritual Barrier. Alvin stepped on Nata’s remains, leaping out of the deep pit, seeing the battlefield situation had already reversed—three Dreadnought chs were jamd at the joints by Brotherhood mbers using Thermite Bombs, with their overloaded cores blooming with a deathly light.
"All units, retreat!" He lunged towards the nearest cover in the explosion shockwave, "These chs are going to..."
The self-destructing shockwave of the Netherworld Type Fearless swept across the wasteland, turning a hundred-ter radius into a hell of molten lava. When Alvin crawled out of the scorching molten steel, only four green signals remained in his tactical goggles—Shaga and Tole were dragging unconscious comrades with their damaged power armor.
"Communication is restored!" Tole suddenly pointed to the sky, "The Alliance’s strike fleet!"
In the baptism of light spears descending from orbit, Alvin saw Gu Hang’s Phoenix Flagship tear through the clouds. But as his gaze swept over Nata’s remains, he discovered that the crushed chanical heart of the captain was seeping black liquid—the sa as the Fallen Angel blood he had seen on the Mirorilla warship.
Shaga’s psychic communication pierced into his mind at this mont: "Underground... there’s sothing even bigger..."
The ground suddenly collapsed, revealing a genetic factory a thousand ters deep. Countless clones soaked in blood pools were awakening, and the birthmark of Bloody Wings appeared on their pale skin. Alvin raised his remaining left arm power claw, suddenly hearing Gu Hang’s voice directly in the neural interface:
"Well done, Sergeant Major. Now fall back—this Holy Blood Plague requires Phoenix Fire for purification."
When the first Whirlwind Torpedo hit the underground factory, Alvin finally understood the true secret of the Oath of Rembrance Battle Group. Those clones struggling in the incubator, each had a face similar to the Death Angel Primarch.
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