63: Space Marines taking driving tests

[Mars Orbit - "Sword of Truth" - Main Cargo Bay / Simulation Training Ground]

The massive cargo bay had been converted into a temporary training ground.

On the thick alloy walls, holographic projection arrays simulated the familiar holographic imagery of Terra's wasteland—

Shattered buildings, muddy shell craters, a murky yellow sky, even the air was permeated with a synthetic chemical concoction simulating the 'battlefield scent' of sulfur and radioactive dust.

"N-05, your entry angle into the turn is 0.3 degrees too wide!"

C-19's voice echoed through the vast cargo bay via loudspeakers, cold and severe, devoid of any emotional fluctuation.

"Correct it! Otherwise, your left-side treads will be the first hit by the anti-tank gun! On a real battlefield, that means you and the entire squad you're carrying will turn into a burning heap of scrap!"

Before him, the recruit Nero sat in the cockpit of a Rhino Transport.

His hands were not gripping control sticks but were resting flat on the neural induction armrests on either side.

He had removed the power armor gauntlets from his hands, revealing palms covered in rough calluses and fresh scars.

Dozens of micro-data probes, finer than a strand of hair, extended from the armrest surface, silently piercing the skin of his palms to connect directly with his modified neural bundles.

His consciousness was completely immersed in the neural link with this steel behemoth.

In that instant, he 'felt' the vehicle.

He could clearly 'hear' the engine's four combustion chambers madly devouring and expelling chemical Fuel, the low rumble not reaching him through his ears but resonating directly within his skull.

He could 'feel' the traction of each tread section gripping the simulated mud, the subtle feedback of friction and slippage transmitted back to his spine via the data lines.

He could even 'see' the faint vibrations on the outer armor plates caused by the simulated raindrops striking them.

This thirty-ton steel monster was becoming an extension of his body—a massive, rigid, and violently aesthetic exoskeleton.

But piloting a thirty-ton vehicle and controlling one's own body were two entirely different things.

*Vroooom—Screech—!*

Nero attempted to execute a high-speed drift to evade simulated fire from the flank.

However, due to a 0.1-second miscalculation in engine torque and vehicle center of gravity, the entire rhino let out a deafening noise. One side of its treads lifted off the ground from centrifugal force, the massive chassis nearly tipping over before crashing heavily onto the training ground's shock-absorbing mats.

"Foolish."

C-19 shook his head and walked over to the cockpit.

"Your body remembers how to dodge gunfire, but your brain hasn't yet learned how to make these thirty tons of iron dance with you."

"power armor isn't your legs; it's your bones, intimately connected to your muscles."

"And this rhino is the heavier muscle enveloping your bones. You must feel its weight, feel its inertia, feel the groan of its metal structure with every turn. Don't try to force it with sheer will."

He walked over to another predator tank. The gunner was undergoing target acquisition training.

"Target: Light armor, moving, 800 meters out." "Firing window: 0.5 seconds."

*Boom! Boom!*

The 'Destroyer' autocannon on the predator tank emitted two short, powerful roars.

Two armor-piercing shells precisely tore through the distant holographic target.

"Too slow."

C-19's voice remained flat.

"Your neural link was delayed by 0.1 seconds. Ideally, the shell should already be leaving the barrel the moment you 'see' the target."

"Your eyes are the targeting scope, your brain is the fire control computer. Before you pull the trigger, the machine spirit should already know your intent."

"Again."

This was the training of the First Legion. No encouragement, no praise. Only an endless, obsessive pursuit of 'perfection.' They didn't want qualified warriors; they wanted death angels who could turn slaughter into an art... [Holographic Operations Cabin]

Li Cang watched the Astartes clumsily learning how to 'drive' in the simulation field, feeling no impatience.

He was pulling up the data panel, assessing the growth curves of the recruits.

"The adaptability of the Black Carapace is faster than I imagined."

On the screen, the green curves representing the recruits' neural synchronization rates were climbing at a visibly rapid pace.

"Three more Terran days, and they'll truly achieve unity between man and machine."

His gaze shifted from the training ground to the star chart representing the next target—Luna (the Moon).

After signing the treaty with Kelbor-Hal, the Adeptus Mechanicus had been very 'generous,' providing all intelligence on the Lunar Gene Cults, a tome as thick as an encyclopedia.

Faction: Lunar Cults

Leader: Gene-Priestess

Unit Composition: Gene-Wrought Horrors: Their cannon fodder. Grotesque monsters spliced and grown from the limbs of various creatures.

Mind-slaves: Mortals under psychic control, fearless and fanatical.

Witch Guard: The personal guard of the Gene-Witches. Deeply modified, capable of unleashing low-level psychic shockwaves.

"Psykers..."

Li Cang's fingers lightly tapped on the entry for 'Witch Guard.' This was the first time he had seen a unit explicitly tagged with 'psyker' abilities in an enemy roster.

Although the Astartes possessed extremely high mental resilience, sufficient to resist the whispers of the Warp.

Against this kind of attack that directly targets the soul and Warps reality, physical defense was useless.

He didn't want his precious assets to be ambushed in a ditch.

"It's time to spend some money."

Li Cang looked at the 5000 GP deposited into his account as a 'technology transfer advance payment,' his gaze turning sharp. This sum was a 'good faith payment' from Mars, paid upfront to expedite receiving the subsequent STC keys.

He opened the [Legion Equipment Upgrade] interface.

This was a new feature unlocked only after allying with the Adeptus Mechanicus. It was filled with an array of black-tech add-ons from Mars.

He skipped directly over the options that increased firepower and armor.

His eyes locked onto a pricey but uniquely effective piece of equipment.

Equipment Add-on: 'Canticle'-Class Psy-Dampener

Type: Vehicle Attachment Module Cost: 500 GP / per set.

Description: An experimental device developed by Mars' 'Cogitator Coven.' By broadcasting encrypted binary canticles at specific frequencies, it can interfere with and suppress low-level psychic fluctuations within a small area, creating a 'psychic vacuum.'

Side Effect: Within the field's range, the combat will and morale of friendly units are also slightly affected.

A glint flashed in Li Cang's eyes.

"Side effect is weakened morale? My Astartes don't have morale; they only have missions."

This add-on seemed tailor-made for the First Legion.

"Purchase ten sets."

"Install them on all Rhino Transports."

Li Cang spent the 5000 GP without hesitation.

Thus, the Rhino Transport would no longer be just an iron box for transporting troops.

It would become a mobile tactical node capable of providing 'magic immunity' protection for infantry.

Having done all this, Li Cang glanced at his points, once again at zero. He felt no heartache. Money only had meaning when spent, transformed into combat power.

He switched communication channels, connecting to the bridge of the "Sword of Truth."

"C-19."

"Training concluded."

"All personnel, return to your stations."

"Our 'live-fire exercise'... is about to begin."

...[Mars Orbit - "Sword of Truth"]

As Li Cang's orders were issued, the massive armed transport slowly detached from Mars' orbital dockyards.

Behind it, an escort fleet composed of three Martian frigates followed.

This was 'sponsored' by Kelbor-Hal. Officially, it was to protect an ally; in reality, it was for surveillance and, incidentally, to get a share of the spoils on Luna, reclaiming the gene-tech they deemed 'heretical.'

Li Cang was well aware of this and didn't care in the slightest.

As long as they could provide fire support.

"Target: Luna." C-19 stood in the center of the bridge, issuing the command.

"Warp drive, activate."

Outside the window, the red planet of Mars gradually receded. In the profound darkness, a pale, silent planet awaited their arrival.

There, was the final step in the Emperor's unification of the Sol System. It was also the First Legion's first hunt among the sea of stars.