[In the cold void of space, the side batteries of the Tyrant-class cruiser "White Maw" lit up in rapid succession. The fully charged plasma weapon arrays erupted once more, unleashing a dazzling, white-hot brilliance.]
[Countless drone frigates, unable to evade in time, were incinerated into ashes, their organic bodies vaporized, with even a large number of Tyranid Sirens caught in the blast. The prismatic void shields protecting the cruiser trembled violently, shimmering with energy drain, and the massive metal warship adjusted its facing, preparing for the primary shot.]
[Meanwhile, within the ship's bow, inside the enormous barrel of its primary cannon, the Nova Cannon... A 50-meter-wide plasma projectile had already completed its initial acceleration, a sphere of superheated energy swiftly approaching the speed of light.]
[In the next moment, the void shields enveloping the cruiser dimmed slightly—a deliberate sacrifice to shunt maximum power. This weakening allowed the relentless barrage of bio-plasma to pierce through the defenses, striking the metal hull with harsh, ringing blows.]
[Then, a colossal energy beam erupted violently from the ship's main cannon. In an instant, the plasma projectile tore through the icy void, reaching the heart of the Tyranid swarm fleet.]
[The drone frigates and battle drones scattered, accelerating in a desperate attempt to shield the fleet. The massive Narvhal bio-ships began shifting their enormous bodies, trying to evade or block the unstoppable Nova Cannon blast. But it was in vain: the plasma shell detonated at its designated target.]
[In the blink of an eye, a tidal wave of destruction, spanning thousands of kilometers, surged like an exploding star, a moment of brilliant, lethal light that vaporized nearly a third of the Tyranid fleet, leaving nothing but expanding cloud of debris.]
[At the same time, as the void shields struggled to regenerate and the "White Maw's" warp engines began preheating for a jump, the cruiser's hangar doors opened. Thirteen Fist-Class Assault Boat surged into the void, racing toward the disoriented Tyranid fleet.]
[However, the fleet, despite suffering catastrophic losses, seemed unfazed by the destruction of its countless living vessels. Before long, more Tyranid Sirens and drone frigates were released from the bellies of the Narvhal bio-ships, replacing the fallen.]
[This was not good news for the thirteen approaching Fist-Class Assault Boat. As expected, the moment five of them engaged with the drone frigates, they barely managed to fire a single thermal beam before being obliterated by the relentless onslaught of bio-plasma, exploding into small, secondary bursts of flame.]
[There was no time to mourn the fallen mortal auxiliaries—their sacrifice was already complete. Your Fist assault boat was immediately surrounded by the remaining seven, shielding you at the center.]
[As your formation braved the Tyranid Sirens' ramming attacks and the hail of bio-plasma, only two Fist-Class Assault Boat remained at your side, their hulls glowing red from the impacts. Your armored hand clenched tightly. You gripped the detonation switch for the Cyclone Torpedo, the final weapon.]
[Ahead, your vision was filled with the grotesque forms of Tyranid bio-weapons, surging toward you like an unstoppable tide.]
[At that moment, a mortal-piloted Fist assault boat rushed ahead, its hull already fractured. In a blinding explosion, it self-destructed, tearing open a path for you at the cost of its own existence.]
[You and the other surviving assault boat burst through the breach before the Tyranids could close ranks again. Suddenly, countless drone frigates emerged from beneath a Narvhal bio-ship, cutting off your trajectory.]
[Just as you prepared to manually detonate the Cyclonic Torpedo, the other Fist assault boat wobbled slightly, its bulky hull and rear wings shifting ever so briefly, almost as if bidding you farewell. Then, its engines roared, and it surged ahead, overtaking you.]
[Another explosion erupted, carving a fleeting, momentary corridor through the enemy ranks. You inhaled sharply, revealing your shark-like, gleaming white teeth in a grimace of gratitude and determination.]
[With a roar that echoed through your cockpit, you shoved the throttle to its limits and activated the thermal beam of your own vessel. Your Fist assault boat, like a lone, raging beast, smashed through several drone frigates and forced its way deep into the body of a Narvhal bio-ship.]
[You pressed the detonation switch. A radiant, all-consuming light erupted behind you. You had no time to feel pain. Your Terminator armor and formidable physique were instantly vaporized.]
[You are dead.]
[Simulation complete. Duration: 42 days.]
[You have earned selectable rewards.]
1. Ancient Cyclonic Torpedo (One)
Note: A relic weapon scavenged from a lost technological ruin by a Space Shark. This warrior had countless chances to use it, yet the tides of battle always forced him to hold back.
Note: Xenos and heretics… your extermination order has arrived!
2. Damaged Raven-pattern Chainsword Axe (Mastercrafted)
Note: A close-combat weapon once wielded by the Space Shark Astartes named "Spong," who perished resisting unknown xenos in the Ghoul Stars.
["...For the Void Father, for Lord Patrick!" Spong roared in defiance before his death.]
3. Ancient Saturn-pattern Terminator Armor (Standard)
Note: Features massive shoulder pauldrons equipped with a shield generator, capable of withstanding intense bombardment.
Its domed helmet contains threat detectors, motion sensors, and multiple augur arrays, constantly monitoring the wearer's vitals.
Designed specifically for melee combat, making it the perfect companion for close-range weapons.
Its structure is ancient and intricate, with many internal components lacking proper maintenance… It can still fight, but not for long.
[Simulation time exceeded 24 hours. Simulator wear and tear not exempted.]
[Cooldown: 420 hours (10:1 ratio).]
[Available cooldown time reduction: 1,809 hours.]
[Consume cooldown time reduction?]
[Cooldown not consumed. Simulator entering natural cooldown (can be bypassed anytime).]
The simulation ended once more. Nolan, having just reviewed his reward choices, abruptly widened his wolf-like blue eyes. He leapt off his metal cot in excitement. His bare feet met the cold steel floor.
"I've been waiting day and night for this… My Terminator armor is finally here!" A wide grin split his face, revealing his fangs. "It's decided, Saturn-pattern Terminator Armor, you're mine!"