02.05 Hours, June 1st, 2187
Grid location: Proxima System, Planet Tethlis, Contested space.
The chill of the alien night seeped through the crevices of their suits as the Helldivers trekked across the rugged terrain, their steps synchronized, eyes vigilant for any signs of the Automatons. The world around them was a haunting symphony of howls and whispers from the winds sweeping through the twisted metal and broken concrete of fallen cities—remnants of a civilization once thriving, now just a footnote in the galaxy's vast history.
Elena led the way, her rifle's scanner casting a ghostly green glow ahead. "This place gives me the creeps. It's too quiet," she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper, yet crystal clear in the team's comms.
Jack, loading his heavy weapon with practiced ease, grinned beneath his helmet. "Quiet's good, Lena. Quiet means no tin cans trying to blast our heads off... yet."
"But quiet like this is the quiet before the storm," Marcus interjected, his eyes scanning the dark horizon. "We're walking into a trap—I can feel it in my bones."
Alex, bringing up the rear, kept his focus on the mission, though Marcus' words echoed his own concerns. "Stay sharp, and keep formation. We're not going to let them surprise us. Not this time."
As they approached a particularly ominous-looking building, its facade more intact than others, Ava halted, holding up her hand for silence. She approached a terminal that miraculously still flickered with life, the screen stuttering with static. Her fingers danced over the interface, coaxing secrets from its depths.
"Guys, you're going to want to see this," Ava called over, her voice tense. The team gathered around, watching as the screen cleared to reveal a map, dotted with blinking lights—each representing Automaton patrols, far more numerous and strategically placed than any random patrol pattern.
"It's a coordinated defense network," Ava explained, her eyes not leaving the screen. "And see this?" She pointed at a larger, pulsating dot. "That's not a patrol. It's something bigger, stationary—could be a command unit, or worse."
Elena frowned, her mind racing. "Command never mentioned this. Were they sending us in blind?"
The mistrust they had harbored, the doubts about Command's true intentions, now seemed not just justified but dangerously prophetic. Alex met each of their gazes, his resolve hardening. "We find out what that is. If Command won't give us answers, we'll find our own. Stick to the shadows, move as one, and keep comms open. We're going in."
As they neared the location, the eerie silence persisted, a stark contrast to the storm they knew was brewing just beneath the surface. Every shadow could be an enemy, every sound a potential threat.
"Eyes up, there's movement ahead," Jack whispered, his voice a harsh rasp in the quiet. Ahead of them, silhouetted against the faint light from a damaged street lamp, a figure—tall, metallic, unmistakably not human—patrolled the perimeter of what looked like a facility.
The Helldivers crouched, watching as the figure paused, its head swiveling as if sniffing the air. "It's one of the new models," Marcus hissed, recognition dawning. "Stealth capabilities, enhanced combat programming. Not your average grunt."
The tension was palpable as they prepared themselves, knowing this confrontation was inevitable. Alex took a deep breath, his leadership never more critical than in this moment. "We engage on my mark. Jack, Ava, flank left. Marcus, Elena, on me. We take it down and push through to that facility. We find out what they're hiding, and we expose every last dirty secret Command thought they could keep from us."
The fight was swift, brutal, and illuminating. The Automaton was indeed advanced, but the Helldivers were a force honed by battles past and driven by a newfound purpose. As it fell, its circuits sparking and fizzling out, the facility's doors beckoned, promising answers and undoubtedly more questions.