After a brief period of darkness, name and his squad members found themselves standing in a room constructed from thick alloy and concrete. The air was filled with the low hum of the ventilation system.
Not far away, their Company Commander was sprawled out on a cot, eyes closed, clearly browsing forums, with a bottle of iced tea on the stone table in front of him.
Hearing the commotion, the Company Commander lazily opened his eyes.
"Name, you're back?" He pointed to the passage by the door, "Go to C3 position. You're the only squad left."
Name made an OK gesture and led his squad out of the room. No one had any objections. On the Helldivers' front lines, an officer's primary duty was not to lead by example, but to exist as a living beacon. A Company Commander who impulsively rushed to the front and was killed by stray bullets was the greatest irresponsibility to the entire company.
They passed through an underground communication trench made of prefabricated concrete components and climbed a ladder to C3 position. This was a semi-underground machine gun nest at a trench corner, one of the meticulously designed "death corners."
The area outside the fortress was once fertile farmland, but that was in the past. Now, the earth had been scorched black by artillery fire, and low-lying areas were filled with the poisonous mist left behind after the tyranid modified the atmosphere.
Across this vast no-man's land, countless twisted metal chevaux de frise and concrete dragon's teeth were systematically arranged, like a grotesque iron forest. Between this forest, a layer of razor wire, occasionally reflecting a deadly glint in the sunlight, was laid out.
Under Name's command, everyone quickly took their positions.
After everyone had waited patiently for a while, the observation post finally shouted, "They're here! They're here!"
On the distant horizon, a Tyranid Swarm wave surged forward. At the front were countless Termagant, like a brown tide, emitting an ear-splitting "hissing" sound, fearlessly charging towards the fortress.
name calmly set up his heavy lumberjack gun (heavy weapon) in the firing port. The heavy gun body gave him a strong sense of security.
"Don't rush to open fire," he ordered through squad comms, "Wait until they enter the minefield."
As soon as he finished speaking, the leading Termagant swarm stepped into the pre-set vibration-sensitive minefield. Boom! Boom! Boom! A series of explosions erupted within the swarm, sending soil, gravel, and broken carapaces flying high. The prometheum fuel accompanying the explosion's core also began to burn fiercely, forming walls of fire that consumed the swarm.
Immediately after, they crashed into the concrete dragon's teeth and razor wire. These obstacles successfully disrupted the swarm's charge formation, forcing them to crowd and pile up, abruptly slowing their speed. Some Termagant were entangled in the sharp razor wire, struggling in vain, and were soon trampled into paste by their companions behind them.
"Now!" Name decisively ordered, "Open fire! Free fire!"
He pulled the trigger, and the heavy lumberjack gun (heavy weapon) spat out angry flames. A metal storm of large-caliber bullets accurately swept across the swarm, which was halted by obstacles and packed together. The bullets easily tore through the Termagant' fragile carapaces, each shot drawing a string of green blood. The squad members next to him also began to shoot, grenade launchers accurately projecting high-explosive ordnance into the densest parts of the swarm. Each explosion cleared a small area.
However, the number of bugs was simply too great. Finally, dozens of stragglers bypassed all obstacles, roaring as they rushed into the zigzag trench. They sped along the trench, their foul-smelling saliva clearly visible.
"Prepare for the meat grinder!" Name shouted.
Just as the swarm rushed to their corner, a deadly crossfire net formed. Name's heavy machine gun aimed at the incoming direction, and another machine gun nest diagonally opposite also simultaneously spewed flames. The two lines of fire formed a perfect "X," completely sealing off the narrow trench corner.
The Termagant at the front were instantly torn to shreds. The bugs behind them didn't even have time to see what happened before they were engulfed by the metallic torrent. Blood, carapaces, and severed limbs flew everywhere in the cramped space, and green blood almost painted the trench walls into an abstract horror painting.
In less than thirty seconds, this small force was completely annihilated. Just as everyone in the position was about to breathe a sigh of relief and reload, a phantom-like afterimage, almost imperceptible to the naked eye, suddenly leaped over the trench, directly bypassing the crossfire blockade at an astonishing speed!
"Holy crap! Lictor!" A player's startled cry exploded in the comms channel.
The ghostly shadow materialized the moment it landed. It had mantis-like scythe forelimbs and a lithe, snake-like body—it was a tyranid elite infiltration unit, a Lictor!
The players immediately adjusted their aim, but the heavy lumberjack gun (heavy weapon)'s cumbersome body couldn't keep up with its lightning-fast speed. Countless laser beams and bullets hit the wall behind it. The few shots that did connect only sparked off its tough carapace, causing no apparent damage. This deadly hunter was about to charge into the machine gun nest and wreak havoc!
"Get out of my way!" A thunderous roar erupted.
The ogryn player in the squad roared and charged forward, his massive body like a wall of flesh, swinging the iron bar in his hand with formidable force. However, the Lictor's speed was too great. Its scythe-like claws became a dazzling blur, constantly leaving deep scratches on the big guy's shield and armor. Although the ogryn player managed to hold on with combat skills and intelligence far superior to his peers, he was clearly struggling, and defeat was only a matter of time.
"Quick, give me all your grenades!" Without Name's specific command, these players were veterans. They quickly and consciously tied grenades to one of the players, preparing to turn into a Creeper and rush up to explode with the Lictor while the ogryn was still holding on.
"Wait, no need!" But one player stopped them, "The explosion might damage the fortress. I can do it!"
This was the voice of another abhuman in the squad, a Ratling player. He was kneeling, his sniper laser rifle as steady as a rock, not firing wildly. His gaze, through the scope, was locked onto the ghostly figure moving at high speed around the ogryn, patiently waiting for a fleeting opportunity.
The opportunity came quickly. After a feint attack, the Lictor slightly tilted its head back to deliver a fatal blow, revealing its hideous, compound-eyed head.
Now!
A high-energy laser beam shot out silently, precisely hitting the Lictor's left eye!
"Hiss—!"
The Lictor let out a sharp shriek. The high-energy beam instantly burned out its optic nerve, causing a momentary stiffness and error in its movements.
"ROARHHHHHH!!" The ogryn player seized this fatal flaw. He let out an earth-shattering roar, his muscles bulging, and swung his power maul with all his might.
"BANG—!!!"
With an ear-splitting crash, the maul smashed squarely into the Lictor's right face. The terrifying force instantly erupted, blasting this elite hunter like a baseball, sending it crashing into the concrete wall on the side!
The wall cracked, and dust billowed. The Lictor's upper body was completely embedded in the wall, leaving only its lower body outside, swaying gently and unconsciously, clearly incapacitated.
After a brief silence, enthusiastic cheers erupted from the position.
"Awesome! Two people took down a Lictor!"
"Who knew the fat man and little boy combo would still be explosive in the Warhammer universe!"
"Quick, quick, who recorded it? Posting this on the forum will definitely be a hit!"