"I don't think we can just keep waiting like this," the squad leader of Squad Four said with a hint of impatience. He frowned, looking at the central reception hall, which had been rendered unrecognizable by flas and bullet rain, through the tactical holographic projection in front of him.
"I think so too," the squad leader of Squad Five imdiately agreed. "Being a commander is too boring. Not being able to go to the front line, just waiting like this, watching the people in front have all the fun, it's torture. When this war is over, I'm going back to report to the Company Commander and have him relieve of my post."
The squad leader of Squad Four twitched the corner of his mouth when he heard that: "You just set a very classic death FLAG: 'When I finish this war, I'll go back to XXX...'"
The squad leader of Squad Five shrugged indifferently: "What are we afraid of? Are we players afraid of death?"
"Good point!"
The squad leader of Squad Five felt he needed to bring the topic back, so he cleared his throat and said seriously: "We've gone off-topic. In short, we both need to figure out how to quickly end this street fight!"
"Hmm..." The squad leader of Squad Four pondered for a mont, then a light bulb went off. "How about letting Pyro put on his Wyvern Armor?"
Pyro was the player previously seen in the tunnel wearing a full set of Prothium Flar Trooper gear. His thick hazmat suit stood out particularly in the firelight. Wyvern Armor and Flar Set were both nicknas other players had given that Flar Trooper suit.
"Are you sure?" The squad leader of Squad Five's expression beca troubled when he heard that. "That's really too hot, and too suffocating..."
"It's fine, it's our soldiers who are getting hot inside. If we tried to go in, they wouldn't let us," the squad leader of Squad Four waved his hand and chuckled, "After all, safety first, right?"
"Holy crap, you're sweet!"
Speak of the devil, just as the two were still discussing, a familiar figure flashed beside them. It was Pyro, who had just died.
The squad leader of Squad Four, quick-witted, grabbed him, and almost simultaneously, both said in unison: "Go get your Wyvern Armor from the Wyvern!"
On Pyro's face, mostly hidden by his helt, a visible look of surprise appeared... "The world, it is defiled again! It needs cleansing!"
Suddenly hearing that deep, muffled, and indistinct voice coming through the fully enclosed armor, the players fighting at the front subconsciously turned their heads. They saw a figure, stepping heavily, one step at a ti, into the combat zone.
"All systems starting, starting, starting, starting!" Pyro let out a wild laugh. Even through the thick helt, one could tell how excited he was at that mont. He held the Prothium Flar in his hand and pulled the trigger.
"You damn filthy genestealers, all of you be burned clean by the flas!"
The scorching flas, like an angry giant dragon, spewed from the muzzle of the flar, sweeping forward with destructive power. The fourth gen. hybrid watched helplessly as the latter half of the area, which it had just thought it could hold for a long ti, was completely engulfed by the rampant tongues of fire.
Structures intolerant to high temperatures were instantly scorched red, then twisted and lted. Machines let out ear-piercing wails, then shattered. This naturally included the genestealers attempting to hide in various corners. Under the licking of the flas, they let out piercing screams, their bodies rapidly carbonizing into charred ashes.
The ubiquitous fire dragon seed to possess life, madly drilling into every inch of space along the room's cracks, pipe fissures, and ventilation shafts. No place could escape its deadly lick; any creature attempting to flee would be devoured by this torrent of flas.
"If you had Prothium Flars, why didn't you bring them out earlier!" The hybrid was consud by rage. "What were you hiding?! Is it fun to watch your comrades sacrifice themselves?!"
Its body trembled with extre anger, yet it was powerless. Why give a false glimr of hope, only to shatter it in the cruelest way? Hivemind, is this also a test you bestow upon ?!
"Wuhahaha, Wuhahahahahahahaha!!!"
The scorching Prothium flas, like a roaring fire dragon, spread wantonly amidst Pyro's wild laughter. Tongues of fire licked at tal walls, rapidly lting and carbonizing all materials intolerant to high temperatures, emitting grating squeals and a pungent burnt sll.
The air was sucked dry, leaving only scorching heat waves and suffocating thick smoke. The entire latter half of the first floor beca like a giant furnace. The area covered by the flas grew wider and wider, forcing the genestealers hiding in every corner to have nowhere to hide.
In the hybrid's crimson eyes, the light of despair almost solidified. It watched its painstakingly established defensive line collapse in the flas, watched the once vibrant residential areas utterly destroyed, and watched its kin turn to ashes in agony.
It roared and cursed, but everything seed so pale and powerless. The flas were closing in, the scorching heat baking its skin, making it ache. It seed that in the next mont, it too would be buried in this disaster brought by the Corpse Emperor's lackeys.
However, at this critical juncture, a deafening explosion suddenly ca from above! The ceiling overhead, that once solid ceiling, as if struck by a giant hamr, instantly collapsed!
Shattered tal, concrete, and wires poured down like rain. Accompanying this falling debris, dozens of strong, twisted Aberrants crashed down from the breach! Their massive bodies slamd onto the ground with dull thuds, raising clouds of dust, but they were almost unhard, their crimson compound eyes glinting with bloodthirsty light.
"Launch a frontal assault imdiately!"
The voice suddenly resounded in the fourth gen. hybrid's mind; it was the pureblood's command: "First, kill this Corpse Emperor's lackey with the flar!"
The hybrid's previously dim eyes suddenly widened, like a dying fish suddenly gulping fresh air. Hope, that hope almost consud by the flas, surged fiercely within its heart once more! It gritted its teeth and let out a low, powerful growl: "Yes!"
Imdiately, through the psychic link, it transmitted the pureblood's command to all remaining genestealers on the first floor. Including itself, as if injected with a stimulant, they abruptly tightened their lines and charged together towards the source of the flas.
Apparently, the pureblood's previous lack of support was because the second floor had superior terrain, more suitable for Aberrants to ambush and defend, and easily committing to the first floor was a waste.
But now the situation had undergone a fundantal change; no matter how good the terrain, if this damned flar trooper wasn't dealt with, everything would lose its aning!
In street fighting, especially within such narrow and enclosed buildings, a Prothium Flar was an absolute killing tool. Even if not directly hit by the flas, the terrifying high temperatures and thick smoke would rapidly deplete the life force of any creature; suffocation, burns, oxygen deprivation... all were fatal threats.
This was a mutually destructive tactic... Apparently, these mad humans didn't care about their own lives; they only wanted the void lord's devout followers to die! For this, destroying any amount of material or sacrificing any number of lives was irrelevant!
And subsequent events indeed confird the pureblood's thoughts. Those Astra Militarum, facing nearly suffocating thick smoke and deadly high temperatures, unhesitatingly pushed forward, enduring all discomfort, forming a human wall to cover the "fire dragon" that was spewing flas. It just didn't know that while the players charged forward, they were also grumbling.
"Damn it, you've stolen all the exp again!"
"Motherfucker, this smoke is really suffocating! Doesn't this building have automatic sprinklers and exhaust fans?"
"I don't think dust and water can extinguish Prothium flas..."
"Next ti you wear the Flar Set, say sothing. I'll put on a gas mask beforehand. This smoke is too damn suffocating and stings the eyes."
"Sigh, now I understand why Kriegers wear gas masks all the ti."
On Pyro's face, hidden by the helt, a hint of embarrassnt seed to appear. His voice ca through the enclosed visor, with a touch of awkwardness: "Sorry, I was too excited just now, didn't have ti to say... Definitely next ti! Definitely next ti!"
However, his "apology" lasted less than a second. Through his smoke-stained visor, he saw the shadowy, nacing genestealers and Aberrants, erging from the thick smoke and approaching at an alarming speed.
The excited light in his eyes reignited, and he unhesitatingly pulled the trigger. With a muffled roar, another Prothium fire dragon once again spewed furiously from the nozzle, instantly dyeing the darkness ahead a blazing orange-red.
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