76: The "noob-slaying" mode is over; now it's hell mode.

["abyssal overlord" Fortress - Second Defense Zone - "Bridge of Sighs"]

C-19 stepped over the corpse of a golden-armored warrior, leading the First Legion across the blasted gate.

The edges of the gate were still glowing.

The metal, melted by high temperatures, emitted a faint crackling sound as it cooled.

The air was thick with the smell of char and the acrid tang of condensed metal vapors.

He looked up.

Before him lay a long metal bridge.

The bridge was two hundred meters long and only wide enough for three Astartes to pass side-by-side.

The bridge deck was paved with heavy alloy plates, its surface marked by countless tiny bolt fixation points.

There were no railings on either side, only a few slender steel cables suspended in mid-air.

Below the bridge was an abyss.

C-19 looked down. Fifty meters below the bridge deck, orange-red magma churned.

That was the waste heat discharge for the geothermal system. Bubbles constantly rose to the surface of the magma, each one releasing a small burst of flame and thick smoke as it burst.

The heat surged upward, slamming into the underside of the bridge with a low roar.

At the end of the bridge was the entrance to Nathan Doom's palace.

A massive bronze gate stood there, its surface carved with reliefs of waves and sea beasts.

It was too quiet.

The Pan-Pacific army that had been fighting desperately just moments ago had vanished without a trace.

There were no fortifications in the corridor, no turrets, and no sign of any living soul.

Only the whistling of the heat waves and the churning of the magma remained.

C-19's tactical eyepiece began to scan.

Environmental Scan: High Temperature - Bridge surface temperature 112°C

Atmospheric Composition: Normal, 0.03% Sulfides

Life Signs: Zero. Energy Reaction: Faint... Abnormal... "Advance. Maintain vigilance."

C-19 ordered. His voice rang out over the vox-channel, steady and devoid of inflection.

Twenty-seven Astartes began to move.

They formed into three columns, each consisting of nine men.

The front row held Bolters, the middle row carried heavy weapons, and the rear row provided cover.

Their footsteps were perfectly synchronized, creating a heavy rhythmic thud against the metal bridge.

The power armor's cooling systems began to operate at full capacity.

The heat rising from beneath the bridge was too intense; even Astartes armor required constant heat dissipation to maintain normal function.

Coolant circulated rapidly through the pipes, producing a faint hum.

C-19 walked at the very front of the squad.

His gaze swept over every inch of the bridge.

The connection points of the steel cables.

The structure of the bridge piers. The shadows on either side. Any place where an enemy might hide.

The lead element reached the center of the bridge.

One hundred meters remained until the gate.

Just then.

Vrrr——!!!

A low hum emanated from beneath the bridge deck.

It wasn't the sound of churning magma.

It was something else.

Deeper, more rhythmic, like some giant machine was powering up.

The air suddenly grew heavy.

C-19 felt the joints of his power armor begin to stiffen.

It wasn't a mechanical failure, but an increase in external pressure.

A string of red warnings appeared on his tactical eyepiece.

WARNING: Localized Gravitational Field Anomaly

Gravity: 3.2G... 5.1G... 7.8G... "Gravity anomaly! Fall back——"

The Astartes walking at the very front didn't even finish his sentence.

Squish!

His entire body instantaneously collapsed inward.

No bullets had hit him.

There was no explosion.

There was no visible attack whatsoever.

But his body began to deform. The power armor's Ceramite shell let out a death-rattle shriek as countless tiny cracks appeared on its surface.

The armor buckled inward, joints snapped, and the internal skeleton and musculature endured horrific pressure.

One second.

That Astartes was compressed into a metal pancake less than ten centimeters thick.

Blood sprayed at high pressure from every seam in the armor, forming a mist in the air before being swept away by the heat waves.

"Enemy attack!"

C-19's voice rang through the channel.

He had no time for shock.

From the shadows on both sides of the bridge came the sound of heavy metal grinding.

Twelve behemoths slowly rose.

They were spherical.

Over three meters in diameter, their surfaces were black metal covered in densely packed generators emitting a purple glow.

The spheres hovered in mid-air, with several thick mechanical tentacles dangling below them.

Each tentacle was composed of multiple metal segments, ending in a rotating hammerhead.

C-19's tactical eyepiece locked onto one of them.

Scan Result: Dark Age of Technology Relic

Model: Unknown Threat.

Classification: T3.

Weapon Systems: Gravity Field Generator / Kinetic Impact Device

"Open fire! Blow them apart!"

Twenty-seven Bolters were raised simultaneously.

Bang-bang-bang-bang-bang——!

Dozens of bolt shells whistled toward the black spheres.

The air was torn by the projectiles, creating sharp sonic booms.

But the bolt shells suddenly decelerated half a meter away from the spheres.

A layer of pale purple distortion appeared around the spheres.

The bolt shells struck this zone, their trajectories deflected and their kinetic energy dissipated.

Most of the bolt shells detonated against the shield's surface, the fire trapped within a small spherical area where even smoke could not escape. The shields flickered a few times before stabilizing.

"Intruders... Purge."

The spheres emitted a piercing synthesized voice. The sound didn't come from a speaker, but was generated directly by vibrating the air.

Every syllable carried a metallic distortion.

They began to move.

Their speed exceeded all expectations.

The spheres didn't drift slowly; they charged at the Astartes formation at twenty meters per second.

The mechanical tentacles lashed out as they moved, slicing through the air with a shrill whistle.

One Astartes tried to parry a swinging tentacle with his Chainsword.

Clang!

The Chainsword's teeth shattered the moment they contacted the tentacle.

The high-speed rotating alloy gears were crushed by an invisible force, turning into powder and peeling away from the blade.

The hilt snapped. The tentacle's momentum remained unchecked as it slammed into the Astartes' chest.

Crack——Boom!

The Astartes was sent flying, crashing into the steel cables of the bridge railing.

The cable snapped under the impact. His breastplate was completely caved in, and his internal ribs were all shattered.

He collapsed to the ground, coughing up large clumps of blood. His body twitched twice and then went still.

"Spread out! Don't cluster!"

C-19 roared.

But on this narrow bridge, there was nowhere to spread out.

The bridge deck had limited width, the abyss lay on either side, and retreating would leave them trapped at the gate.

A Void Executioner charged into the center of the formation.

It released a localized gravity field.

Purple light radiated from the sphere's surface, covering a ten-meter radius.

Three Astartes instantly felt their bodies become ten times heavier.

The joints of their power armor let out shrieks of overload, hydraulic rods bearing pressure far beyond their design limits.

Their knees buckled, forced down into an uncontrollable kneel.

They tried to stand.

But it was tons of pressure.

The Void Executioner swung its gravity hammer.

The hammerhead was raised high and then brought down.

One after another.

Every heavy blow was accompanied by the sound of shattering helmets and splattering brain matter.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

Five minutes.

The battle lasted five minutes.

C-19 looked at the corpses on the bridge deck.

Six.

No, seven.

Broken power armor, severed limbs, spreading pools of blood.

His Bolter was ineffective.

His Chainsword was ineffective.

The strength he took pride in was utterly useless against gravity.

An unprecedented sense of frustration was etched deep into his consciousness core.

It wasn't fear. The Astartes' augmentations had already removed his fear glands.

But he could clearly perceive one fact: we cannot defeat this enemy.

A Void Executioner locked onto him.

A purple gravity beam enveloped his body.

C-19 felt all the joints of his power armor lock up simultaneously.

His muscles contracted wildly, trying to fight the force, but it was in vain. The neural interface of his Black Carapace was overloading, sending signals of intense pain to his brain.

A massive mechanical tentacle was raised high.

The hammerhead was aimed at his helmet.

Just as the gravity hammer was about to descend—

Sshoo—Boom!

A brilliant red beam shot out from the smoke and dust behind them.

It accurately struck the center of the Void Executioner's sphere.

The purple shield flickered once and then collapsed.

The beam pierced the sphere's shell, detonating the internal gravity generator.

Rumble!

The Void Executioner exploded into fragments.

Metal debris scattered in all directions.

C-19 felt the pressure on his body suddenly vanish.

His power armor joints regained responsiveness.

He used the momentum to roll to the side, dodging the descending hammer.

The hammerhead struck the bridge deck, smashing a deep crater and sending sparks flying.

He looked back.

From the ruins at the bridgehead, dozens of tracked Combat Servitors painted in fire-red were charging out.

Their arms were two smoking Melta Cannons, and their tracks ground over the broken earth with a clanking metallic rhythm.

01001000... [Detected allied forces in high-risk state]

0101... [Combat Servitor formation has intervened]

0011... [Directive Source: Mars - Ul-02]

Adeptus Mechanicus.

The Tech-Priests, who had been monitoring the battlefield data from the rear, had finally made their move.

"Gravity shields cannot withstand sustained high-energy melta rays."

Magos Ul-02's voice rang out over the vox-channel. The voice remained steady, carrying a tone of technical objectivity.

"This is a rogue weapon from the Golden Age. Conventional kinetic weapons are ineffective against it."

"First Legion, withdraw to the rear. Mars will take over the battlefield cleanup."

As his words fell, even more Combat Servitors and Skitarii flooded onto the bridge.

Armed with Arc Rifles and Melta Cannons, they suppressed the Void Executioners with dense energy fire.

Red beams interlaced in the air, striking the spheres' shields and stripping away their energy layers bit by bit.

C-19 knelt on one knee.

He watched the fierce exchange of energy fire ahead. Red beams. Purple shields. Explosive flames.

He looked at the corpses of his brothers-in-arms.

Seven suits of shattered power armor.

Seven serial numbers.

Seven lives!

His hands clenched, the power armor gauntlets letting out a faint creak.

"We... are still not strong enough."

C-19 whispered inside his helmet.

No one heard those words.

Except himself.