Chapter 11: Crushed Like an Insect

Four Terran Days Later...

After four straight days of relentless research and fabrication, Qin Mo's work finally bore fruit.

Across the fortress, soldiers hauled newly assembled heavy weapons into position, reinforcing firing slits and barricades with freshly forged meltaguns, flamers, and auto-turrets. The fortress, once a mere hab-block, now stood as an unbreakable bulwark against the Underhive's horrors.

But Qin Mo had no intention of lingering.

Turning to Gray and his squad of five, he ordered them to suit up in their newly crafted power armor. Without hesitation, the team followed him toward the fortress exit, setting off toward the eastern stronghold—the next battlefield.

"Wait—shouldn't we test these suits first?"

Klein's voice rang with concern as he hurried after them.

Qin Mo didn't break stride.

"No need."

The six-man team moved swiftly through the twisting corridors, their footsteps heavy with the weight of ceramite plating. Klein followed, flanked by a squad of handpicked elite troopers from the 47th Infantry Regiment.

Klein scowled. "I really think we should slow down—at least run some tests before throwing these into battle."

"We'll test them in combat."

"...Fine, fine. Battle-testing it is."

Seeing Qin Mo's absolute confidence, Klein reluctantly dropped the subject—but a deeper concern gnawed at him.

"Gray's squad are just ordinary soldiers. The 44th Regiment was a logistics and supply division—they've barely seen real combat. Are you sure you only want to take them?"

Klein shot Gray a skeptical glance, then subtly motioned for his own elite troops to step forward.

Qin Mo immediately rejected the idea.

"Gray's team may not be the strongest, but they are the most resolute."

"They've fought alongside me. They know my combat style."

Klein exhaled sharply. He didn't like it—but he couldn't argue.

Once again, he reluctantly accepted Qin Mo's decision, coming to a halt as he watched them approach the fortress exit.

Then, at the last second, he shouted:

"Don't engage the rebels head-on! We're badly outnumbered!"

Qin Mo didn't reply—he simply stepped outside, and the fortress doors sealed shut behind him.

Klein sighed in frustration, shaking his head.

Then, mere moments later, the wall slid open again—revealing Qin Mo standing there.

"One more thing."

Klein blinked. "What?"

"In my room, there's a Psyker Suppression Device—a square metal box. If you encounter an enemy psyker, activate it immediately."

"But that thing needs to be recharged. Each activation only lasts two days."

Klein's brows furrowed. "Understood. I'll assign a five-man team specifically to guard and operate the device."

Qin Mo nodded. "Good."

Without another word, he turned and disappeared into the darkness.

The wall resealed seamlessly, as if it had never been there.

....

The new power armor—integrated with Gravity Shields and Jump Packs—allowed for short bursts of flight.

Covering 70 kilometers in just two hours, the squad only paused once to recharge their power cells.

As they neared their destination, Qin Mo issued an order.

"Land here. We proceed on foot."

With a synchronized hiss of thrusters disengaging, the squad touched down two kilometers away from the stronghold.

Without hesitation, Gray deployed a recon drone.

The mechanical servo-eye ascended into the smoke-choked sky, its lenses scanning the battlefield below.

"Is the stronghold still standing?"

Qin Mo glanced at Gray, waiting for an answer.

But Gray didn't respond.

His helmet visor was locked forward, his expression blank.

His HUD display fed him a live tactical feed from the drone's cameras.

All he could see was smoke.

Thick, impenetrable clouds of ash and burning promethium obscured everything.

"Use the bio-scanner," Qin Mo reminded him. "That's one of the drone's functions."

Gray snapped out of his daze. "Right."

Issuing a command, he activated bio-signature detection.

Immediately, the HUD overlay adjusted—highlighting all detected lifeforms in glowing green markers.

A numerical feed populated the bottom-left corner of his display.

Human forces detected: 5,723.

Rebel forces detected: 9,938.

Analysis: At the current rate of attrition, estimated time until the complete annihilation of friendly forces: 1 hour, 21 minutes. (For reference only.)

Gray exhaled sharply. "The stronghold is still holding… but not for much longer."

He swiped his hand through the holographic HUD, mumbling:

"Didn't you say these suits could share tactical data? How do I do that again?"

Qin Mo sighed.

"Extend your hand. Imagine the HUD is floating in front of you. Tap 'Combat Mode' in the lower-left corner. That will force-enable data sharing."

To an average grunt, Qin Mo's customized electronic systems were too advanced.

Tactical analysis.

Suit monitoring.

Shared battlefield intelligence.

All designed for strategic coordination.

But manual input was required—voice commands were too risky, and changing combat stances needed careful precision.

For Gray and the others, this extra complexity was frustrating as hell.

Gray grumbled. "Done."

With Combat Mode enabled, all battlefield data was instantly shared across the squad's HUDs—providing real-time intelligence on enemy and friendly positions.

....

On paper, the numbers weren't completely hopeless.

But the rebels held a decisive advantage.

The reason?

Aberrants.

Genestealer Aberrants—hulking, mutated hybrids wielding industrial tools as weapons.

They weren't intelligent.

They didn't need to be.

Each one was a living battering ram, capable of tearing apart armored vehicles with nothing but brute strength.

Whenever they charged, the rebels deployed smoke canisters, forcing the PDF forces into chaotic close-quarters combat.

That's when Qin Mo's squad arrived.

Even before touching the ground, the thrust from their Jump Packs blasted the battlefield smoke away.

For a brief moment, both PDF and rebel forces froze—all eyes locked onto the six armored figures who had descended from the sky.

Then, realization set in.

The rebels saw the double-headed eagle emblazoned on their chestplates.

These were not allies.

An uneasy silence fell over the battlefield.

Then, an Aberrant stepped forward.

Towering over three meters tall, its deformed claws clenched the severed head of a human officer.

It locked eyes with Qin Mo.

It growled, voice thick with inhuman hatred.

"DIE…"

Qin Mo turned to Gray.

Gray nodded.

"For the Emperor!"

Engaging his Jump Pack, Gray surged forward—his Gravity Shield flaring to life.

The Aberrant lunged, raising its massive hammer—

There were only two possible outcomes:

The Aberrant's brute strength would win, crushing the power armor and the man inside.The power armor's superior technology would win, smashing the Aberrant aside like a ragdoll.

It never reached him.

The instant it touched the Gravity Shield's field, its entire body imploded—flesh, bone, and muscle compressed into paste.

A split-second later, Gray's thrusters re-engaged, sending him barreling forward—unhindered.