In the southern suburbs of Jinhe City.
An unremarkable factory stood tucked away in a deserted district.
Crates that had lain abandoned for who knew how many years were piled across the spacious courtyard, while tufts of wild grass swayed before the rusted iron gates.
Several greenish heads lurked in the shadows beneath the factory windows, vigilantly watching the adjacent streets.
This was a transit warehouse used by the Church of the Torch to funnel weapons and ammunition to the Chi Tribe.
Although it was a dozen kilometers behind the frontline, logisticians could easily deliver weapons directly into the hands of frontline fighters through the intricate subway network.
The dense stands of high-rises muffled the undulating gunfire. Only the occasional thunder of an explosion reminded Ga'en that the flames of war had already scorched their way right under his nose.
Now that the explosions had ceased, Ga'en's mood had not improved in the slightest. If anything, he was only more irritated.
Just moments ago, he had learned that his forces had withdrawn from the surface into the underground, which meant the Chi Tribe's surface nest was utterly lost.
Standing at the entrance to the warehouse, Ga'en clenched his fists so hard his teeth nearly shattered, his furious glare practically spitting fire.
Having their nest seized by a bunch of two-legged livestock...
Such a humiliating disgrace was unprecedented in the past century!
Noticing Ga'en, the mutant guarding the window quickly scrambled away, half running and half tumbling to open the gate for the chieftain.
With a grinding screech of metal, the rusted gate opened a crack. A hunched old mutant squeezed out and offered Ga'en a slight bow.
"Lord Chieftain."
Ga'en was usually fairly courteous to this high priest who stood on his side, but right now he showed not the slightest bit of pleasantness.
Striding up to Gemo, Ga'en grabbed him by the collar, his copper-bell eyes glaring daggers.
"Where is the support I asked for?"
Gemo replied placidly, "It's all here."
Seeing him remain so calm and composed at a critical juncture like this, Ga'en flared with fury, shouting with flying spittle, "You know damn well I don't want those fire pokers! I want something that can bring down that iron lump! Tell the Torch people—if they keep dragging their feet, they can defend that research institute themselves!"
Of course, he only said that for effect.
If they truly lost the Torch's support, the Chi Tribe could very well be wiped out by the Alliance within minutes.
Leaving aside the cybernetic augmentations, with the Chi Tribe's own manufacturing capabilities, making an automatic rifle was an ordeal, and whatever they managed to cobble together would jam once every three shots.
He knew perfectly well that using the mass of flesh in the biological research facility as a bargaining chip to threaten their ally was fine, but if the Champion Biopharmaceutical Research Institute truly fell, the Chi Tribe would immediately lose the Church of the Torch's backing.
Looking at Ga'en's face twisted with rage, Gemo sighed softly.
He still remembered how, just a few days ago, this young chieftain had confidently comforted his own fretting self, telling him to simply proceed with the ritual and not worry about the battlefield.
Yet in just a matter of days, after encountering only a minor setback, he had turned into this state—not only forgetting his own words, but even pinning all his hopes on the Church of the Torch, an outsider...
No matter.
This had been within expectations all along.
After a brief pause, Gemo spoke slowly. "What I'm talking about is that very thing. It is also here."
Ga'en froze for a moment, then narrowed his eyes slightly.
Through those slits, Gemo saw his hunger for power, even if he did not truly understand what the power he possessed actually was.
That expression looked just like a child longing for a new toy.
Looking at the burly infant before him, a trace of sorrow suddenly welled in Gemo's heart.
Perhaps it was precisely this naivety that had led them to a plight they had never envisioned...
Releasing his grip on the old priest's collar, Ga'en's tone carried a hint of courtesy. "Take me to it."
"Follow me."
Gemo nodded, turned, and walked toward the rusted gate behind him.
His eyes burning with desire for power, Ga'en followed without hesitation, stepping into the pitch-black factory floor.
The interior was completely dark.
To avoid detection by Alliance aircraft, no lights had been turned on.
Ga'en squinted, adjusting to the dim light, and soon spotted a row of cylindrical culture vats filled with dark green fluid.
Two-meter-tall bodies floated immersed within the vats. Their skin was an ashen-black, sporting protruding fangs and pointed chins, covered by a layer of fine down upon closer inspection. Beneath their tall, lean frames lay muscles with visible fibrous striations—lean, yet packed with explosive power—and folds of fleshy membrane wrapped around their torsos.
Ga'en walked closer, his eyes widening slightly.
Looking closely, those membranes wrapped around the bodies were actually two pairs of folded wings extending from the armpits all the way down to the pelvis!
He had never seen such grotesque monsters.
"...What are these?"
Gemo walked up to the culture vat and replied somewhat tangentially in a quiet voice, "A century and a half ago, when scholars were researching the Gestalt lifeform, they first designed a framework for the perfect life that existed only on blueprints. Its DNA had to be sufficiently stable to resist external interference, yet simultaneously broad enough to accommodate every gene designed for it... And the mutants were that very framework. Even though it remains far from the proposition of the most perfect life, it has already realized the first step on the ladder toward perfection."
Pausing, he continued, "It is the most perfect 'vessel' on this planet, an almost all-purpose, multifunctional platform!"
Ga'en frowned slightly, feeling utterly bewildered by the old priest's words.
The most perfect life?
He had no doubt that he himself was the most perfect life, and saw no gap between himself and whatever proposition the old man was talking about.
As for vessels, multifunctional platforms...
He had no idea what this old bastard was babbling about.
Expecting Ga'en's confusion, Gemo continued at an unhurried pace, "...We can implant into this perfect vessel every superior trait we desire, granting us innate abilities that surpass any machine. Take Goliath, for instance: it can devour almost any organic matter and convert it into biomass we can utilize. The mountain of corpses piled outside can all be converted through it into useful biomass feedstock. Or take these Batwings before you—they need no aircraft to soar freely through the sky on their own."
"Batwings." Chewing on the name, Ga'en's confusion gradually morphed into comprehension, and then into fanaticism.
If every mutant could master the ability to fly...
His tribe would undoubtedly become the rulers of this land!
Wasn't that *Heart of Steel* simply bullying them because they couldn't fly?
However, that thought lasted for less than a minute in Ga'en's mind. When he noticed the pitifully small number of Batwings inside the factory, the fervor in his eyes cooled.
"Being able to fly... sounds nice enough, but there are far too few of these little runts." Ga'en rubbed his chin, uncharacteristically analyzing the situation with a level head. "At most, there are barely a hundred here. Probably not even enough to fill the gaps between that iron lump's teeth."
If only there were more.
Reading the chieftain's thoughts, Gemo smiled faintly and whispered, "Naturally, there are far more than what you see here. At this very moment, at least ten thousand Batwings are deployed throughout Jinhe City."
Ga'en's pupils constricted slightly. The extinguished fervor reignited within his bloodthirsty eyes.
Over ten thousand!
Even if each only spat once, they could drown that airship!
Seeing Ga'en's fighting spirit flare back to life, Gemo continued slowly, "The *Heart of Steel* boasts ferocious firepower and a deflector shield that makes it almost completely immune to kinetic weaponry, but it is utterly helpless against close-range threats... Back then, the Alliance exploited this exact weakness to seize the *Heart of Steel* from the Legion. We can certainly use the same method to wrest that airship from their hands.
"Right now, the Alliance forces are mostly engaged inside Jinhe City, leaving the defenses aboard the *Heart of Steel* inevitably thin. All we have to do is launch a sudden assault under the cover of the gray mist—"
"Then what are you waiting for?" Ga'en grabbed Gemo's shoulder, agitation written all over his face. "Make your move at once!"
As long as they could capture that airship and unleash a barrage of bombardment upon the Alliance troops in the city, even if they couldn't wipe out those irritating pests completely, it would at least relieve the pressure on the frontline.
"Don't get ahead of yourself; I'm not finished," Gemo coughed softly and continued. "The Batwing's genetic design has not actually been finalized. Like Goliath, it is still in the phase of groping forward and accumulating experience through practice. The most obvious unresolved flaw is that they require the influence of a psychic interference field to unleash their full combat potential."
His caterpillar-like brows knitted tightly as Ga'en glared at him. "Meaning what?"
Gemo continued, "Put simply, without a central anchor, they are merely a pack of mindless wild dogs that know only how to bite frantically at anything nearby and feed. We need a warrior powerful enough to drive them into battle with his own will."
With that, Gemo turned and walked toward the far end of the warehouse, stopping before an enormous culture vat.
This vat was noticeably different from the others. Not only was it twice as large, but what it housed was also far more peculiar.
Covered in black scales and standing over four meters tall, it possessed a humanoid silhouette, yet it looked less like a person and more like an empty skin—
Or rather, a suit of armor!
Following Gemo to the back, Ga'en's gaze snapped onto the culture vat and remained glued to it.
The inside of its parted chest pulsed with crimson flesh, like a breathing mouth issuing a summons—or an invitation.
He didn't know what it was.
Yet the power he dreamed of was right before his eyes.
Gemo said nothing. He merely extended an index finger and lightly tapped on the control terminal.
With the press of a button, the culture vat soon emitted gurgling drainage sounds, and before long, the dark green fluid was completely evacuated.
The chamber doors slid open, revealing the biomass armor fully to Ga'en.
The pitch-black scales and thick biomass shell were exposed to the air. The membranes along its ribs fluttered faintly, and folded fleshy wings stretched out from either side of its back.
What truly kept Ga'en's eyes transfixed was not just the pair of black wings, but the swollen, pulsing chest.
The muscles there looked as if they possessed the strength to tear steel apart!
Ga'en asked, "...What is this now?"
Gemo replied in a low voice, "A suit of biomass armor known as 'Nightmare.' Not only does it possess terrifying strength, durable biomass protection, and flight capability, but most importantly, it can generate a psychic interference field of sufficient output. Donning it will allow you to command all the Batwings."
*Nightmare...*
Ga'en turned the name over in his mind, taking an immense liking to it.
He had no doubt that once he donned this armor, he would become an eternal nightmare to all Old Humans.
He looked toward Gemo and asked impatiently, "How do I use this thing?"
Gemo whispered, "You only need to put it on. Once it becomes a part of your body, you will naturally understand how to wield it—it will be as simple as breathing... However, you must think it through. Once you put it on, it can never be removed."
"Suits me just fine!"
Ga'en roared with laughter. Without another word, he stripped off his clothes, strode forward with his brawny frame bare, and stepped straight into the culture vat.
The Chi Tribe respected only the strong.
Whoever had the biggest fist was the boss.
As the strongest of his clan, he would never yield such an opportunity to grow stronger to anyone else!
Even though he knew risks were involved, he was more than willing to take the gamble!
The moment Ga'en's back pressed against the biomass armor, tendrils instantly swarmed across his entire body.
Sharp interfaces pierced into his flesh, and countless microscopic cilia intertwined with his entire nervous system.
"Aaaarrrgh—!"
The sudden, agonizing torment tore a roar of pain from Ga'en's throat. His eyes became bloodshot, and his muscles convulsed as if struck by lightning.
The pain was a hundred times more excruciating than cybernetic surgery. He felt something being forced inside him, while parts of his own flesh and blood surged into the entity.
The first to fuse were the nerves, followed by the blood, and ultimately his entire being!
Ga'en felt as if he had been returned to a chaotic placenta, an invisible umbilical cord binding him to the mass of flesh wrapped around his body.
When he opened his eyes again, who knew how much time had passed.
Ga'en could no longer sense his original body. His consciousness seemed completely melded into a new shell—
A far more powerful shell!
He clenched his fists, a series of sharp cracking sounds snapping from his arms, every cell in his body practically cheering with exhilaration.
Elated, Ga'en flexed the wings behind him. The gust whipped up blew his discarded beast-hide clothing across the floor, forcing the high priest and the surrounding lackeys to take several involuntary steps back.
Gemo stared intently at the reborn Ga'en, a trace of fanaticism gradually surfacing in his cloudy eyes.
Though this path was fraught with twists and turns—
A mightier being had been born before his eyes, offering him a measure of solace... At least those sacrifices had not been in vain.
Ga'en flexed his power-laden fists and looked down with satisfaction at Gemo standing below the platform.
"By the way, how are those Batwings made? Can we get the Church to make more of them?"
Gemo lowered his gaze and replied with utmost respect, "Like Goliath, they are primarily cultivated from mutant infants. The output probably isn't as staggering as you might imagine... but I believe that given sufficient time, they will certainly be able to forge an invincible aerial army for you."
Ga'en frowned. "And this biomass armor?"
"A similar process... only with a few additional things mixed in." To be frank, Gemo wasn't entirely clear on the details himself, so he could only answer vaguely.
Yet that explanation was more than enough for Ga'en. A look of realization dawned in his amber pupils, which quickly turned into pure delight.
*So that's how it is.*
No wonder he felt a familiar aura from this biomass armor—it was forged from the bloodline of his own kin.
Though something about it felt slightly off, he didn't care.
As long as it brought greater strength!
Trivial matters like that didn't matter at all!
"Roaaar—!"
He threw his head back and let out a triumphant roar. The fleshy wings linked to his spine snapped wide to both sides, sending piercing sonic waves washing outward alongside the gusts stirred by his wings.
The mutant lackeys recoiled in terror. The aged Gemo did as well, though not a shred of fear lingered in his eyes—only fanaticism.
As if hearing his command, the Batwings in the culture vats snapped their closed eyes open. Like mad beasts, they slammed their limbs and teeth against the glass, squirming out with drenched, glistening bodies.
It was hard to imagine that these things had been hatched from mutant infants.
Yet, just as Ga'en thought, such minor details were entirely irrelevant.
Staring at the hideous, fanged beasts, a cruel sneer spread across Ga'en's face.
"...The time for vengeance has arrived!"
***
At the same time, atop an office building several kilometers from the factory, an old man clad in an exoskeleton slowly opened his closed eyes.
He heard the shrill shrieks carried by the wind and sensed the surging undercurrents hidden within the mist.
The Church of the Torch's biological weapons deployed in this city had finally been activated.
Led by a beast, the fanged monsters were howling toward that massive iron construct.
Soon, everything would come to an end.
Though he did not know where Luo Qian had gone, from this moment on, no filth would interfere with the holy Kingdom of Heaven descending upon this land.
Slowly turning toward the airship, a chilling sneer curled at the corners of Arzu's lips.
"A pack of parasites gorging on the legacy of the old days. Instead of rebuilding the utopia of the past and enlightening these ignorant sheep, you throw the gears in reverse, back to before the Era of Prosperity. You pick up the wreckage of a mere corvette, and you puff yourselves up as if you own the sky and earth."
A vessel of that caliber.
During the Three-Year War, it wouldn't have even qualified as cannon fodder.
A sneer escaped through his lips.
"Aren't you all supposed to be tough fighters?
"Let's see if you even have what it takes to leave yourselves an intact corpse."
***
Northern Jinhe City.
The frontline where the Alliance clashed with the Chi Tribe.
After securing the subway entrance and the streets leading to the Champion Biopharmaceutical Research Institute, the Alliance's ground forces did not push further. Instead, they steadily dug in to establish a new defensive line, waiting for rear-line resupply.
After fighting for an entire day, most players had nearly exhausted their ammunition. Even if the players themselves could hold out, the weapons in their hands could not.
Once their respective defensive sectors were designated, the corps commanders promptly held a brief tactical meeting to decide on the next phase of the offensive.
High Command had granted the frontline forces ample autonomy, allowing them to determine their operational priority based on the situation on the ground.
In other words, the players could decide for themselves whether to prioritize raiding the Champion Biopharmaceutical Research Institute or pursuing and annihilating the mutants that had fled into the subway.
For convenience and to pool their ideas, the discussion, as usual, took place on the player section of the official forums.
Yet calling it a discussion was a stretch, as there was virtually no disagreement.
Almost every corps commander agreed that while those green-skinned bastards were despicable, capturing the Champion Biopharmaceutical Research Institute was the most pressing priority.
Not only was this because it housed a thousand cubic meters of nuclear fuel and the pseudo-broodmother controlling the gray mist, but from a strategic standpoint, taking it would also effectively drive a wedge between their adversaries.
After all, the alliance between the Church of the Torch and the Chi Tribe was anchored primarily to that facility.
Once the Alliance breached the research institute and shattered the "Kingdom of Heaven" cast over the Jinhe City region, the Chi Tribe would lose its greatest strategic value to the Church of the Torch.
Conversely, if they encircled the research institute and made wiping out the enemy forces in the subway their primary objective, it might whittle down the mutant numbers and prevent them from holing up in the subway's nooks and crannies, but it could also introduce new variables.
Having lost a diocese bishop, the Church of the Torch couldn't possibly still be kept in the dark. Even if they didn't take drastic measures, they would certainly dispatch a replacement.
A swift and decisive strike was the most advantageous option for the Alliance. Even if they had to spend more time mopping up mutant remnants later, it would be well worth it.
In just ten minutes, the corps commanders reached a consensus. Just then, Commander Spring, who had remained silent all along, suddenly chimed in:
"I can't shake the feeling that things are going a bit too smoothly for you guys."
Earlier, the Storm Corps had taken over the Jungle Corps' duties hunting down bandits in the mountain forests of the Alliance's northern border, so they hadn't participated in this server event.
Even though his corps had no stake in the event, watching his buddies engaged in heated debate made Commander Spring itch to get involved, so he threw in his two cents.
Not minding his buzzkill remark, Brother Edge typed back:
"Isn't it good that things are going smoothly? (Funny)"
Commander Spring: "I didn't say it's bad... I just feel like you won too easily. Your opponents are either totally brainless, or they're holding back some massive trump card."
Midnight Chicken Slayer: "What makes you say that?"
Commander Spring: "Generally speaking, if there was zero chance of winning, and I were that mutant chieftain, I'd have turned tail and bolted long ago. No matter how much the Church of the Torch offers, money's useless if you're not alive to spend it. No matter how good their relationship is, there's no reason to bleed for an ally to that extent, right? Besides, with mist this thick, if they really ran from Jinhe City, there'd be nothing we could do. The subway runs in every direction—you guys might not even be able to stop them."
Scavenger Lv99: "The logic holds... but does it really apply to mutants? Maybe they just look down on Old Humans, whom they've always slaughtered like sheep? Maybe they haven't even conceived of the possibility that they could lose."
Midnight Chicken Slayer: "+1. Those beasts don't seem like the type to scheme that much."
Commander Spring: "It's not about scheming. If they truly never thought they could lose, they wouldn't have retreated underground in the first place. Wouldn't having a grand showdown with you on the surface be much simpler?"
Fang Chang: "Mm... I was pondering that earlier as well, but I honestly can't think of what other cards they have left to play. And if they really had a card capable of turning the tables, why wouldn't they have played it earlier instead of waiting until now?"
Commander Spring: "Brother, think back carefully. How did we hijack the *Heart of Steel* in the first place?"
Elaina: "Fuck, here he goes bragging again. (Funny)"
Elven King Fugui: "Alright, alright, we know you were the one commanding it. (Funny)"
Commander Spring: "Ahem, that's really not what I meant. I'm being serious! Think about it carefully—don't you notice any similarities?"
Jieyan: "Pin down the ground forces, then launch a sudden sneak attack... Holy shit? You mean they might be copying us?"
Canyon Escaped Mole: "But the problem is, mutants don't have planes, do they?"
Commander Spring: "Those brutes definitely can't build a plane... But what if—I'm just saying what if—the biological weapons they possess aren't just thick-skinned, damage-sponge heavies like 'Goliath' and 'Meat Mountain,' but also things that can fly? What then?"
Fang Chang: "So far, we haven't spotted any flying elites like you're describing... but your point stands. Since the Church of the Torch can breed biological weapons that defy common sense, we really can't rule out that possibility."
Canyon Escaped Mole: "Yeah. Aside from a phased cannon that requires pre-deployment, against an airship with a deflector shield... boarding action really is the only viable tactic."
In Debt God: "Wait... is that kind of thing actually possible?!"
Commander Spring: "War isn't a game of cards; anything can happen on the battlefield. I'm just suggesting, wouldn't it be safer to send a squad back to the airship? It's not like you aren't already knocking on their front door anyway."
Lao Bai: "Understood. We'll head back! (Grin)"
Regardless of whether the mutants held that card up their sleeves, leaving someone on the high ground to prevent backdoor pushes would give the teammates pushing the objectives peace of mind.
Besides, just as Brother Spring said, the frontline wasn't lacking their few bodies.
With the brothers of the Skeleton Corps, the Death Corps, and the Jungle Corps present, taking down a research institute was more than manageable.
WC Really Has Mosquitoes: "Holy crap... Reading through your discussion made my butt clench. I'm hauling ass back in-game right now! (Panic)"
Ye Shi: "Don't panic, bro's coming back to keep you company. (Smirk)"
Chapter 605