A Helldivers player crouched low, cautiously approaching a massive, shell-blackened boulder. Behind it, a figure was sprawled out, limbs akimbo, in a posture of extre relaxation, seemingly oblivious to the constant danger of the battlefield. That was their squad leader, known simply as Pyro.
"Squad Leader, hey, Squad Leader," the player whispered.
Pyro didn't respond, letting out only a soft snore, still slumped against the rock like a piece of discarded rags.
The player sighed, then, without hesitation, raised his foot and deliberately brought it down hard onto Pyro's back.
"Ohoho... What the hell, are you trying to start a mutiny?!" Pyro yelped, instantly rocketing up and glaring at the newcor.
"Oh, co on, cut the act, I know you weren't sleeping," the player said, waving him off easily. "The trench on that small hill to the east collapsed again. It's filled with water. Get over there and fix it."
"Can't I just pretend I was sleeping and didn't hear you?" Pyro grumbled, rubbing his back.
"Well, that's why I'm here, to make sure you did hear ," the Helldiver replied, sporting an expression that said, "I'm doing you a favor." He pointed into the distance. "Look, the rest of the squad is holding the line. You're the one who can fix it, so get moving."
Pyro cursed as he got up, brushing the dirt from his butt. "I spent two whole goddamn hours yesterday, shoveling the dirt out one scoop at a ti. Why is it broken again today? What is this, so kind of shoddy construction?"
"Friendly armor drove over it," the newcor explained. "Leman Russes, you know? Heavy as hell. They tend to wreck our trenches."
"Oh, right," he added, as if suddenly rembering sothing. "A Leman Russ tank is also stuck in the trench right by the collapse. You can sort that out while you're there. I guess it tried to bypass the cave-in and got trapped."
Pyro's expression instantly froze. He stared with wide eyes: "How am I supposed to 'sort that out'? Am I supposed to pry a Leman Russ tank out with my entrenching tool? Are you f*cking kidding ?"
The other Helldiver clapped Pyro on the shoulder with an encouraging smile: "Use your imagination, Squad Leader! I believe in you!"
Just as Pyro was about to erupt, an unfamiliar voice suddenly cut in from the side, sounding urgent: "Pyro? Where's Pyro?"
Pyro's attention imdiately shifted. He raised his hand and shouted, "Over here! What's the deal?"
A player wearing a Guardsman comms uniform jogged over, panting heavily. Pyro glanced at the na floating above the player's head. Nope, a complete stranger.
"What's up?" Pyro asked.
"A whole regint was just wiped out," the Guardsman player quickly said, catching his breath. "To get reinforcents back to the front quickly, Command is temporarily adjusting the structure. You're being promoted to temporary Platoon Leader! Forty fresh guys will be respawning right next to you soon. Get ready!"
"Huh?" Pyro paused, his brain seemingly catching up. Then, his eyes lit up, and his face broke into an unprecedented look of wild joy.
"Ah! HA HA HA HA!!" He leaped up, throwing his hands in the air like a child who'd been given candy, yelling excitedly. "I don't have to dig the trench alone! I don't have to pry out the tank alone! HA HA HA HA!"
The player who had been "encouraging" Pyro was left dumbfounded. After a long pause, he finally managed to say, "No way. You are getting promoted to Platoon Leader?"
"What do you an ''?" Pyro imdiately retorted, a smug look on his face. "Like hell! Was my elentary school class monitor position just a joke? A platoon is about fifty people. It's perfect!"
Newly promoted, Pyro was feeling quite proud of himself, all traces of his trench-digging bitterness gone. He strode confidently toward the Leman Russ tank stuck in the trench.
From a distance, he could see the massive tank tilted and wedged in the muddy trench. Several crew mbers were surrounding it, sweating as they tried to use crowbars and their own strength to shove the steel beast out. However, five people against a multi-ton Leman Russ was clearly futile; the tank hadn't budged an inch.
The crew mbers looked confused when they saw Pyro approach. They were expecting an entire combat engineer squad or a repair crew, not just one nonchalant player.
"Uh, why are you the only one here, bro?" one crew mber asked, putting down his crowbar.
Pyro waved his hand. "Dozens of guys will be respawning next to soon. Just tell what the problem is so I can get a clear picture."
"Got it," the man nodded, pointing to the tank's tracks and chassis. "It's simple, really. We've been charging for so long that the transmission axle partially snapped.
We mostly drove across open fields during the push, so it managed to work under light load, and we didn't notice. Now that we've nose-dived into a ditch and are under high load, it's completely kicked the bucket. Plus, the teeth on the drive wheels are nearly ground down. Jeez, problems just keep piling up."
"Oh," Pyro looked enlightened, even though he hadn't understood a single word. He nodded with great solemnity. "I see. So that's what it is."
"I told them we should have brought a tank hauler," another crew mber complained. "Running these tanks so hard the whole ti puts too much wear on them. They just can't hold up."
"Who knew we'd run a thousand kiloters in one go?" the first crew mber countered. "We skipped the hauler because the Leman Russes have always been tough as nails—we thought they could take anything. We didn't expect this kind of intensity."
"Ahem," Pyro cut in, interrupting their increasingly off-topic argunt, and offered what he thought was a constructive suggestion. "How about we try pushing it first? Maybe it'll roll out?"
The crew mbers exchanged glances. Although they thought the chance was slim, since the new guy suggested it, they figured they might as well try.
"Alright, everyone together!" one crew mber shouted before climbing into the driver's hatch. "I'll start the engine and see if I can give it a little juice."
The five crew mbers and Pyro—six people in total—strained, digging their shoulders into the Leman Russ's side armor and grunting with effort. Inside the cab, the engine roared, but it was clearly just spinning in place with minimal power, the tracks churning slowly and painfully.
With everyone pushing their hardest, the behemoth actually lifted up a tiny bit. The tracks scraped against the mud, showing a glimr of hope that it might break free. The crew's spirits lifted, and they pushed even harder.
However, the Leman Russ was incredibly heavy. After lifting it only a few inches, they felt their strength run out. The tank began to wobble, threatening to slide right back into the mud pit.
In the nick of ti, a tall figure flashed to the rear of the Leman Russ. Without a word, he simply placed his armored hand against the back of the tank. The heavy Power Armor emitted a low servo whine, and then an incredible burst of strength erupted!
Before everyone's eyes, the teetering Leman Russ was effortlessly shoved clear of the mud. The tracks rolled smoothly over the edge of the trench and the tank stopped firmly on flat ground.
"Oh—! It worked!"
"Amazing!"
The crew mbers let out a deafening cheer, high-fiving one another excitedly.
Pyro whipped around to look at the Space Marine who had single-handedly pushed the tank.
"Reinhard?" Pyro exclaid in surprise. "What are you doing here? I thought the fighting was intense up front and the Tyranids could break the line any minute!"
"That's precisely why I've co for you," said Reinhard. He tilted his helted head, scanning the surroundings. "I need you, the newly promoted Platoon Leader, to take your n and reinforce the front. The line definitely needs more hands. Where are those forty n? I don't see them."
Pyro's smile instantly froze on his face. Only then did he rember that his new "recruits" hadn't respawned yet.
"Uh, let's head over first," Pyro said, giving a dry cough and trying to sound composed. "They'll be here soon."
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