"This really subverts my stereotype of the Warhammer universe," Pyro exclaimed from the passenger seat of the Chimera APC, looking out at the rapidly receding, vast farmland through the bulletproof window. "It's actually quite beautiful here."
Compared to the perpetually gloomy skies, the lingering smell of pesticides and chemicals, and the cold Tech-Priests and giant agricultural machines in the fields of other Imperial agricultural worlds, Planditium was like a legendary garden world.
The sky was a pure azure, dotted with a few leisurely white clouds, golden waves of wheat rolled in the gentle breeze, and in the distance, one could even see old farmers in straw hats working leisurely between the field ridges, like a pastoral painting.
"Who do you think manages this place? The Ultramarines!" RNGesus said from the driver's seat. "They are professionals when it comes to farming and administration."
The small convoy drove to an open hill with a wide view. The others jumped out from the back of the vehicle. RNGesus immediately unfolded a data-slate and began using the vehicle's scanner to map the detailed topography of the area. The other dozen or so players gathered, discussing animatedly where to place the future artillery positions for the best firing range.
After an intense discussion and simulation, Pyro pointed to the endless golden wheat fields below the hill and came to an inevitable conclusion: "We definitely need to build a fortress here. By then, all these farmlands will be obstacles and must be completely burned."
At these words, the lively discussion ceased abruptly, and the players fell silent. Although, theoretically, these farmlands had nothing to do with them, these outsiders, watching such beautiful, vibrant things and then destroying them with their own hands, always brought an indescribable feeling of heartache and discomfort.
"We have to burn them," RNGesus sighed, breaking the silence. "Even if we are soft-hearted and don't burn them, when the tyranid come, the rich biomass in these farmlands will turn into more enemies to come after us."
The cruel reality left everyone speechless. The group got back into their vehicles, their target this time being several villages below the hill. Their mission was: to notify and supervise all non-combat personnel to proceed to designated assembly points.
Originally, a player suggested simply finding high ground and shouting into the powerful loudspeakers on the armored vehicle to get it over with. But this simple and crude plan was stopped by RNGesus. After discussion among the group, they decided to first find the local grassroots administrative official and explain the matter to him.
Thus, the players witnessed firsthand the efficiency of the Ultramar system. Under the village mayor's effective mobilization, in just one terra hour, all residents of the village, carrying their few belongings, formed long lines and orderly left their homes, where they and their ancestors had toiled their entire lives.
Almost all the villagers' faces showed varying degrees of reluctance, many looking back three times with each step, but they only looked back a few times, and no one stood out to cry or put up fierce resistance.
"The mobilization system of Ultramar is this strong?" A player exclaimed, watching this miraculous scene. "I thought it would take a lot of effort, maybe even pointing a lasgun to intimidate them a bit…"
"Actually, it wouldn't come to using guns," RNGesus said softly, looking at the villagers in the long queue. He noticed that when the villagers' gazes inadvertently swept over them, the soldiers in Helldivers Legion uniforms, they would immediately lower their heads, their eyes showing clear fear. "They are already very afraid of us."
"Huh, why?" Pyro didn't react.
"You're stupid," RNGesus tapped his helmet, a bit speechless. "The stories of our great purge of the Upper Hive and Mid-Hive in the Jersey Sector have spread."
"But weren't we shooting those Upper Hive nobles and Mid-Hive gangs?" Pyro scratched his helmet, asking in confusion. "Isn't that a good thing?"
"Objectively speaking, we certainly didn't harm any honest farmers or workers," RNGesus explained. "But from the perspective of these NPCs, our actions at the time were just rushing into the hive city and having a good shooting spree, okay? This pure violence, of course, would incite fear."
In the team, a player sighed upon hearing this: "I wonder when the next game update will remove the setting of reputation reset upon death. Then we could confidently communicate with NPCs and build trust, instead of always having to intimidate them with force."
"I actually think it's a good thing they're so afraid of us," another player said indifferently, his view more pragmatic. "If they weren't afraid of us, how would they evacuate so obediently? If they dragged their feet, crying and wailing, this mission would probably be very troublesome to complete."
...The engines of the Chimera APC and Hellhound flame tanks roared, crushing over the field ridges, pressing the golden wheat, once a symbol of abundance and life, into the soil. Then, the fire of purification roared out from the nozzles, orange-red dragons of flame greedily licking the dry crops, instantly consuming them.
The fire spread rapidly, converging into a boundless sea of flames. Rolling black smoke billowed into the sky, dyeing Planditium's azure sky a dirty grey-black. The players silently carried out their mission; no one cheered, no one spoke, only the crackling of burning flames and the roar of machinery echoed across the empty fields.
On a distant hilltop overlooking the entire plain, three figures stood silently, like unmoving rocks.
Severus Agemman, captain of the Ultramarines' Second Company, clad in power armor, watched the half-reddened sky and the rising smoke. A trace of imperceptible pity flickered across his genetically modified face, which rarely showed emotion.
"Before the Tyranid Swarm arrived, we ourselves delivered destruction to Planditium," his voice was deep.
Beside him, another space marines, clad in the unique silver and deep red power armor of the Astral Claws Chapter, was even more burly than Agemman. He was Chapter Master Lufgt Huron, his helmet tucked under his arm, a cruel smile on his face.
"First, use all means to achieve victory. After victory, there will naturally be plenty of time to resolve these outstanding issues and mourn losses," Huron had a completely different opinion. "If we hesitate here, we won't even have the chance to mourn."
Both knew these were two completely different philosophies, and further debate would yield no results, so they did not continue the topic. Agemman withdrew his gaze from the sea of fire and turned to a Helldivers standing slightly behind them.
He looked at the Helldivers commander and said, "The Librarian told me before he came that during this tyranid crisis, I should respect your opinions, and everything should be based on your opinions."
"Librarian?" The Helldivers player named EGO was startled and subconsciously asked, "Varro Tigurius?"
"Yes." Agemman nodded, EGO's reaction seemed to be within his expectations. "It seems you know him. Then I don't need to explain how powerful his precognitive abilities are, or how many times he has helped the Ultramarines overcome difficulties… In short, due to the Librarian's instructions, I will support any decision you Helldivers make."
"A Librarian's prophecy?" Huron raised an eyebrow, a hint of suspicion in his tone. "captain Agemman, you intend to hand over command of a war to a group of mortals, merely because of a prophecy?"
"I trust Librarian Tigurius' judgment, as always," Agemman's reply was decisive. "His prophecies have never been wrong."