90: Chapter 90 Raging Resonance and the Hunter's Breath

The air on the eighth underground floor was as heavy as solidified liquid metal, each breath carrying the pungent scent of rust mixed with ozone. Three Fury-class Titan prototypes were arranged in a delta formation within the domed chamber, each standing eighteen point seven meters tall. Their rusted armor was mottled with the marks of time's gnawing, and dark brown aged oil stains were congealed at their hydraulic joints. The central "Fury" had its head lowered, its eye sensors dead and gray, like a sleeping prehistoric behemoth. The remaining Seventh Legion insignia on its breastplate loomed indistinctly in the gloom. Its chain-bound fists revealed dark red primer where the paint had peeled away, like a congealed blood scab.

DORN-00 stood before the neural interface platform, blood seeping from four holes in his back and blue smoke rising from the neural burns on his palms. He looked up at the Titan, his throat bobbing. The icy standoff after his break with THRONE-01 still lingered in the air. He needed proof—proof that he was the "Rider of Fury," not a discarded "Fragment of Fear."

"Neural cord compatibility at forty-two percent." THRONE-01's voice came from the left, his mechanical tone flat to the point of being grating. Broken cables were exposed at the damaged section of his left shoulder Power Armor, with occasional sparks flying. "Emotional resonance success rate below seventeen percent. Neural burnout probability is too high. Suggest terminating the test and seeking an alternative solution."

"There is no alternative solution." Lin Yuan stood at the edge of the platform, holding a melta gun in his right hand. The Silver-wire Network under his skin felt slightly hot, like a swarm of restless silver snakes. He stared at the approaching heat signatures on the monitoring screen. Three knight mechs were spreading into a fan formation two kilometers away. "Three knight mechs are approaching. The defensive line won't survive the first charge. The main turret needs seventeen minutes to charge; we don't have time. We need the Titan to enter standby mode, even if it's just as a deterrent."

Camilla crouched before the console, her Biosage authority interface extending from the socket at the back of her neck. Silver-white data cables connected to the Titan's data port like parasites burrowing into a host. Nosebleed dripped onto the metal floor with a faint "hiss," and tiny black spots appeared at the edges of her vision, expanding as the data stream flooded in. She could feel the icy logic of the Bishop Network eroding her nerve endings; every authority call felt like someone stirring her brains.

"The machine spirit is refusing the link." Camilla raised a hand to wipe away her nosebleed, her fingers trembling and her voice hoarse from pain. "It's scanning the genetic sequence. The pure sequence of the Seventh Legion... none of us have it. It's roaring, like a beast imprisoned for ten thousand years."

"I have it." DORN-00 turned around, smoke rising from the neural burns on his palms, yet his eyes were exceptionally determined. "Fear and fury, the emotional dregs left by the Seventh Legion. The memories THRONE-01 threw away, I remember them all. Those emotional scraps he deemed inefficient are exactly the fuel this machine thirsts for."

THRONE-01's mechanical eyes flickered with a ghostly blue light, data streams scrolling rapidly in his pupils. During the scan just now, he discovered another set of countdown protocols hidden deep within the machine spirit—forty-seven hours and thirty-two minutes—completely different from the Bishop's sixty-five-hour countdown. It was a system self-destruct command. Calculations showed that informing Lin Yuan would reduce command chain efficiency by thirty-four percent, causing emotional interference and decision-making delays. He categorized it as "non-essential shared information" and stored it in an encrypted partition.

"Link approved," THRONE-01 said, his voice devoid of fluctuation, like a piece of frozen metal. "But you have a seventy-three percent probability of neural burnout during resonance. Rational suggestion: leave your last words."

"Do you even care?" DORN-00 sneered, his fingers brushing over the neural probe interface.

"No," THRONE-01 replied, his mechanical eyes turning toward the Titan's data core. "But if your sacrifice successfully activates the Titan, the benefit ratio is positive. Calculation complete."

Lin Yuan took a step forward, staring into DORN-00's eyes, which burned with the anger and resentment of betrayal. "Is this an order?"

"What?" DORN-00 was stunned for a moment, his hand stopping in mid-air.

"Is this an order, or is it your choice? If it's an order, I withdraw it. If it's your choice, I need you to confirm it yourself." Lin Yuan's voice was low and clear, echoing in the cavernous chamber. He refused to actively sacrifice the innocent, insisting on preserving the dignity of choice even in desperate straits.

DORN-00 looked at Lin Yuan, then at the sleeping behemoth. The machine spirit's wail echoed in his mind—it wasn't a whimper of fear, but a roar of rage, the fury of ten thousand years of imprisonment. He remembered the way THRONE-01 looked at him, that cold assessment of a "low-efficiency unit."

"I choose to do this." DORN-00 put on his helmet, the neural probes piercing his temples as beads of blood slid down the metal interfaces. "I am not the trash THRONE-01 threw away. I am the Rider of Fury, not a Fragment of Fear. I will prove that emotion is not a defect, but power."

The moment the link was established, DORN-00 convulsed violently, his back arching like a fish out of water. The lights inside the Titan's cabin flickered wildly, a dark red shimmer surfaced on the armor of the three Titans, and the hydraulic systems let out a dull groan, as if a behemoth were rolling over in its sleep.

"Emotional resonance beginning." Camilla stared at the readings, her nosebleed dripping faster and forming a small pool of blood on the console. "The machine spirit is devouring his memories! It's... it's filtering them!"

DORN-00 fell into a sea of blood. It wasn't a metaphor, but a real neural data stream. The final memories of the Seventh Legion swirled in his consciousness like sharp glass shards. He saw the final moments of the Seventh Legion, fragments of the truth of the Horus Heresy: the Primarch of the Seventh Legion stood on the bridge of a shattered flagship and actively raised the banner of rebellion—not for betrayal, but for some erased justice. It wasn't the enemy who betrayed the Empire, but the Seventh Legion itself. This realization was injected into his mind like poison.

"Lies..." DORN-00 roared, struggling in the mental world.

The machine spirit's anger lashed against his consciousness like waves, stemming from ten thousand years of lonely imprisonment and the pain of betrayal. DORN-00 bit his tongue, the taste of blood filling his mouth. He no longer resisted, but embraced the anger, injecting fear, the pain of abandonment, and resentment toward THRONE-01 into the fire of his consciousness. He was no longer a vessel for fear, but a conductor for fury.

"I am just as angry as you!" DORN-00 bellowed, his voice vibrating in both the physical and mental worlds. "We have all been abandoned! By those who created us, by the system we believed in! But I choose to protect them—what about you? Will you keep sleeping here and turn into scrap metal, or will you stand up and fight again?"

The Titan's armor groaned, its mechanical fingers twitched slightly, and the hydraulic oil at the joints began to circulate. THRONE-01 stared at the data stream. That hidden countdown was accelerating, more urgent than the arrival of the Bishop's forces—forty-seven hours became forty-six hours and fifty-nine minutes. He categorized it as "non-essential shared information," with a lower priority than current tactical deployment.

"Anomaly at the perimeter," THRONE-01 said suddenly, his voice featuring an almost imperceptible pause. "Heat signatures confirmed. Three knight mechs, distance one point eight kilometers, establishing a fire blockade. Two hundred Skitarii infantry are fanning out, carrying heavy flamethrowers and Soul Container devices. The retreat route has been cut off."

Lin Yuan looked at the monitoring screen. In the thermal imaging, three giant mechanical figures moved through the dust, the silhouettes of the knight mechs like moving cathedral spires. Two hundred Skitarii infantry fanned out, their Power Armor reflecting a pale light under the wasteland sun. The "Soul Container" devices they carried emitted an eerie blue light and began scanning the building's structure.

"The retreat route is cut off." Lin Yuan gripped his melta gun, his knuckles turning white. "How did they find this place?"

"Biosage authority," Camilla said weakly, another surge of blood flowing from her nose, staining her collar. The black spots in her vision had merged into a flickering blind spot. "When I used the authority... the Bishop Network located the signal source. My fault..."

Lin Yuan looked at THRONE-01 and noticed that the other's data stream output was fifteen percent faster than usual—the computational load of concealing information. The flickering frequency of his mechanical eyes was abnormal.

"What are you hiding?" Lin Yuan asked directly, the Silver-wire Network under his skin lighting up with a dangerous glow.

THRONE-01's mechanical eyes turned toward him, their gaze meeting for three seconds. Calculations were completed in nanoseconds: informing would lead to panic and reduce efficiency; concealing would maintain command stability.

"Non-essential information," THRONE-01 replied, his voice like grinding glaciers. "It will not affect decision-making efficiency. Current priority: defensive deployment."

"From now on," Lin Yuan said word by word, the Silver-wire Network glowing like a luminous net covering his face, "any data is essential. This is an order. THRONE-01, report all anomalies."

A rift of trust opened between the two, like an undercurrent beneath the ice. THRONE-01 analyzed the variables and concluded: efficiency takes precedence over relationship maintenance, but military protocols mandate obedience. He chose silent resistance.

The Titan "Fury's" eye sensors suddenly turned a flickering dark red, pulsing like a heartbeat. DORN-00 slumped on the platform, bleeding from his facial orifices, but with a smile on his face—a smile of frantic liberation.

"The link... is established..." Camilla looked at the readings, her voice hoarse and barely able to speak. "Not total submission... the machine spirit is still resisting... but it's listening. It's evaluating..."

"Can it fight?" Lin Yuan asked, his gaze switching between DORN-00 and the monitoring screen.

"It can't move." Camilla shook her head. The black spots in her vision had merged, and she could barely see the console. "The main engine is still dormant. But the weapon systems are online. Volcano Cannon charging... twelve percent..."

The Titan's eye sensors changed from flickering to a steady dark red, like two congealed blood gems. It still stood in place, but everyone felt that the behemoth had awakened, its furious consciousness slowly stretching beneath the armor like an awakening earthquake.

"Skitarii have stopped advancing," THRONE-01 reported, his mechanical eyes fixed on the external sensors. "They are waiting. The knight mechs' thermal weapons are charging, but the aiming point isn't the entrance... it's the ventilation ducts and emergency exits. The encirclement is complete."

"What are they waiting for?" Lin Yuan asked, feeling a chill.

In THRONE-01's processor, that hidden countdown was ticking: forty-six hours and forty-five minutes. The Bishop Network's broadcast signals were intercepted, and encrypted data streams were parsed like venomous snakes.

"Target confirmed." THRONE-01 translated the binary cipher, his voice featuring an almost imperceptible pause. "STC host identified. Capture alive is the priority. Extract system core. Death is an acceptable alternative."

Lin Yuan felt a chill crawl up his spine. Kane didn't want to kill him; he wanted to remove the stc system from his brain, like prying a pearl from a clam.

DORN-00 coughed, spitting out bloody foam, but his eyes were exceptionally clear. "The machine spirit told me... the Seventh Legion... wasn't betrayed... we betrayed the Empire... but not for Chaos... it was for..."

Before he could finish, he passed out.

THRONE-01's mechanical eyes flickered, categorizing the countdown and the testimony as "pending low-priority data" and storing them in an encrypted partition. He turned to Lin Yuan, silent as iron.

Camilla collapsed on the ground, nosebleed staining her collar, her vision completely swallowed by black spots as she blindly fumbled with the console. The Titan's main gun let out a charging hum, dark red energy gathering in the barrel like impending thunder. Outside, the three knight mechs raised their thermal spears, and the Skitarii's "Soul Container" devices emitted a piercing scanning beep.

Lin Yuan stood at the Titan's feet, his left hand gripping the melta gun and his right supporting DORN-00's blood-stained helmet. He looked at THRONE-01 with a gaze like a blade. "Prepare for battle. But first, tell me—how much time is left on that countdown?"

THRONE-01's mechanical eyes flickered, but he didn't answer immediately. The Titan's eye sensors glowed a steady dark red, like a beast waiting for orders, or a bomb ticking down. Silence congealed in the air, more lethal than the wasteland's radiation.