Rex mercilessly waved his energy rifle, pulsing blue orb bodies bombarding this tall bio-monster creature. Although its hardy shell could withstand greater blows, the shockwaves generated by each maximum explosion could easily overturn a medium-sized truck.
Together with his squad, their combined firepower forced the bio-monster to retreat about thirty yards or more from the cliff edge. Its frenzied roar conveyed extreme anger.
When it reared back, Wilkins spotted an opening and seized the opportunity. He reached for his toolkit, took out a fist-sized quark grenade, aligned his projectile, and then lobbed it directly into its gaping maw. Its hollow esophagus easily swallowed the device.
A low crunching sound came from within. The creature stumbled and trembled heavily, crashing to the ground with a heavy thud. It moved no more.
"Awesome!" Nova applauded, excited by the timely maneuver. If etiquette allowed, the young women would have rewarded Wilkins more enthusiastically—such flirtation had happened before.
But Rex remained calm, and ordered the squad to retreat fifty paces. His sensors emitted a shrill sound, dots rapidly approaching, undoubtedly attracted by the earlier commotion. Four more hulking beasts closed in, even bigger than the first.
With no way out, only steadfast hearts and steady hands could see them through the ordeal. Comrades raised their weapons, prepared to confront the impending confrontation.
Through the magnification of his armor, Wilkins glimpsed an unblinking orb. Two quick bullets shattered the ghastly eye, oozing vile pus. However, before enjoying this small victory, some primal feeling compelled him to leap out.
Just where he had stood moments before, a barrage of intense beams now ravaged the land, shattering rocks into fragments. His armored suit could withstand such fire for some time, but the mini rockets that followed spelled doom.
"Striders suddenly appearing!" Rex yelled out in panic. Bipedal robot combat units deployed by Silicius. Standing up to 9 meters tall, equipped with two 20mm lasers, two 55mm autocannons, and three rocket launchers, each carrying four rounds of ammunition. Purpose built for high intensity engagements, a single unit can sustain up to four hours of combat independently. Powerful adversaries by any measure.
Rex's freckled face flushed red from adrenaline surge. He integrated the supernatural reflexes of his Peak 5 combat mastery with the quantum processing speed of his exosuit, swinging his rifle as he unleashed a barrage of fire...
"Boom boom boom!" Three rockets exploded in midair four hundred meters out. Thunderous shockwaves propagated for hundreds of meters in all directions, even the bio-monster creatures still approaching from the mountain base were flung tumbling.
Seeing the opening, Rex yelled: "Come on guys, we're breaking through!" He sped down the mountain at full clip.
Wilkins did not follow, instead springing up, dropping to one knee, gaze locked onto the Strider opponent ahead.
The Strider was still nine hundred meters out. Could Wilkins' 19mm anti-materiel rifle penetrate such hardened steel armor at such extreme distance?
But every mighty machine had its vulnerabilities, perceptible only to the keenest eyes in fleeting moments.
As recent military briefings confirmed, whenever one of the downed Striders spun its missile launchers, a 10 centimeter gap would instantly appear on its rear side - no wider than 10 centimeters, but nearly a meter in length. Exposed through that brief slit was its power generating core.
In the heat of ferocious battles, few marksmen could capitalize on that diminutive aperture for decisive shots.
But Wilkins believed he had a chance! Because he possessed a secret known to no one else...in addition to Peak 5 combat mastery, he also wielded Peak 5 psionic abilities.
In this age, ordinary people must cultivate not only physical strength, but also mental strength. Science has proven that with each breakthrough in martial disciplines, deep glandular secretions in the brain are stimulated, awakening a person's latent psychic talents. These awakened powers grant the practitioner faster reactions and cognition - the critical difference between victory and defeat in merciless combat.
The tragedy is that such awakenings can only unleash a fraction of the mind's true potential. Typically, even a master of the Seventh Peak can only manifest the psychic might of the Third Peak. Due to lack of specialized training, even a Twelfth Peak Paramount Grandmaster often stagnates around the Fifth Peak.
A frustrating limitation! For the United Federation has only discovered one way to fan lingering embers into roaring flames - the art of meditation.
Truly mastering this profound practice is extremely rare. For those lacking in wisdom and patience, making progress through meditation alone is agonizing.
If not for one more critical factor - resonance with astral particles, then perhaps such glacial pace could be endured.
Modern science posits that psionic abilities stem from highly concentrated exotic particles suffusing the cosmos itself. These are the so-called astral particles, the arcane wellspring nourishing psychic gifts.
Only those humans with the greatest affinity toward astral particles can absorb enough of its mystic essence during meditation to condense it into tangible psi powers. One can imagine for people lacking such affinity, even a lifetime of meditation may yield negligible results, enough to drive one insane!
In this light, one's resonance with astral particles is largely an innate physiological quality - determined by chance of birth genetics rather than any regiment's training. At least, no artificial means to induce such affinity has yet been discovered on Earth!
Consider over the entire United Federation with 16 billion souls, only 32,000 exhibit pronounced astral affinity. That's just one in nearly half a million!
Of these fortunate few, only 8 have cultivated their psychic talents to Level Twelve - known upper limit of human potential, with no one yet crossing into the mythic Thirteenth Stratum.
This forms a stark contrast to the pursuit of martial excellence - open to anyone physically fit with three digit IQ. Thanks to tremendous leaps in medical science and genetics mastery, average intelligence quotients now exceed 133!
Yet even among psi masters, Wilkins was anomalous - endowed not only with ample astral affinity, but innate cerebral capabilities exceeding lifelong meditators. Through countless hours of silent agony, veteran mystics had impressively expanded their neural architectures. But measured against Wilkins' inborn gifts, their efforts seemed paltry.
By this one virtue alone, Wilkins needed not endure years of gradual mental stretching like his peers, conducting five prolonged meditation sessions relatively smoothly to attain first layer Fifth Stratum psi mastery.
For the people of this world, such powers were indeed negligible. However, due to Wilkins' anomalous sensitivity, his "meager" abilities were more readily noticeable of minute fluctuations than many Tier Eleven and even Tier Twelve veterans. Thus upon enlistment, he embarked on the path of a sniper.
His choice bore fruit quickly - mere months of basic training honed him into an A-grade marksman elite, a level many career soldiers failed to attain despite practicing for ten years or longer.
After the first missile volley, Wilkins had three seconds before the next salvo reloaded. His psionic awareness accelerated, vision firmly locking onto the target through crosshairs and naked display, gaining enhanced clarity.
The launcher spun outward, gradually exposing the fleeting gap behind it. At the moment of full extension, Wilkins squeezed the trigger without hesitation.
Two rounds per second - the maximum rate a Peak 6 armsmaster could sustain fierce firing.
The heavy rounds launched with a violent trail of shockwaves, unerringly finding their mark as the light ring reached maximum width. Twin bangs rang out as they disappeared inside.
The ensuing explosion of the power core then triggered secondary detonations of the dozen plus warheads loaded in adjacent compartments. Some nuclear charges were stored there too. Consuming flames engulfed several bio-beasts and a pair of Striders, immersing them in raging white heat.
"Nice shot Wilkins!" Rex bellowed. "Now let's get out of here, double time!"
The entire squad was dumbfounded - it was as if providence itself was guiding Wilkins' hand this day! Now twice he had snatched them from death's jaws against impossible odds.
Their squad punched through successfully without serious mishap.
"Target sighted!" Wilkins cautioned as they passed the midway point down the mountain, clenching his fist in elation, dragging his heavy rifle. Then he proceeded to scramble down unchecked.
The blast radius for mini-nukes was around 500km - enough to decimate the mountain base while not overly threatening soldiers in powered armor.
Upon rendezvousing with the others, their powered exoskeletons unleashed top speeds of 100 km/h unhindered by supply crates. Together they accelerated northwest, attempting to gain distance from surviving Striders.
The concussive blasts could occupy enemies at most ten seconds. They had to capitalize on that fleeting window for bio-beasts clocked 110 km/h and Striders reputedly even faster - some estimates around 130 km/h.
After sprinting three, four kilometers, helmet speakers suddenly emitted interference. Radar went static, visual range quickly diminishing.
"Damn it!" Nova cursed in a most unladylike fashion. "The aerial surveillance grid just went down!"