In a phantasm, Qin Mo wandered amidst the stars, absorbing the energy of the suns and devouring the sentient beings within the stellar system. This existence persisted for an extended period until Qin Mo arrived at the edge of a galactic star system, where he suddenly beheld a brilliant light. This radiance shattered the dimensions of the stellar system, pulling him into its embrace, the intense shockwave of energy tearing apart his very consciousness.
The agony of his disintegrating awareness roused Qin Mo, pulling him from his illusion as he opened his eyes to survey his surroundings. Smoke gradually dissipated around him, revealing the approaching rebel forces. The air was thick with the acrid scent of gunpowder.
Upon awakening, Qin Mo's first instinct was not to flee or conceal himself but to search his pockets for his journal. To his dismay, he discovered that he could not locate the journal, nor could he find the pocket that had housed it; his entire trousers had been obliterated by the explosion.
Crouching amidst the metallic debris in the trench, Qin Mo fervently prayed to the Emperor, beseeching the Lord of Humanity to help him find the most precious object to him. The Emperor, seated upon the golden throne, seemed to indeed favor Qin Mo. He ultimately found his journal, albeit reduced to a mere fragment.
The thick journal had been blasted down to a single page, nearly half of which was charred beyond recognition. "No, no… no!" Qin Mo cried out in profound anguish. He could rewrite the memories contained within that journal, yet it was the last gift from his mother, bestowed upon him when he was seven, a memento he had carried into this world.
"Advance, advance!" "For the Lord of Evolution!" "For our savior!" The shouts echoed in Qin Mo's ears as the rebels drew perilously close to the trench's edge. The ground began to tremble slightly, accompanied by the grating sounds of treads, indicating that the rebels possessed not only infantry but also tanks.
Qin Mo rolled the remaining half-page of paper into his trousers, rising with indignation to glare at the rebel soldiers. These insurgents were gene thieves, hybrid offspring of the Tyranid and humanity. Though grotesque in appearance, Qin Mo felt no fear; he only wished to show these abominations a lesson.
At that moment, he was spotted by Karon. Karon, moving with an agility unbecoming of his age, navigated the battlefield, utilizing psychic energy to deflect incoming bullets, intent on reaching Qin Mo as swiftly as possible.
When there was still a distance of fifty meters between them, Karon extended his psychic energy, sending the key towards Qin Mo: "Quick, release your psychic suppressor!" Yet, it was too late; before the key could reach Qin Mo, he was overwhelmed by the rebel soldiers.
In the next instant, a torrent of flames erupted from the midst of the insurgents, consuming dozens of them and incinerating the key destined for Qin Mo. He levitated two meters above the ground, flames erupting from his eyes, electric currents coursing through his body. The tag on his psychic suppressor labeled him as Prisoner 444, now ablaze.
The rebel soldiers immediately redirected their fire towards Qin Mo, and the tanks they had constructed halted, rotating their turrets to face him. As the focus of their onslaught, Qin Mo did not shy away; he raised his hands to target the rebels, unleashing torrents of fire and lightning from his palms—these attacks were devastatingly effective, clearing the area where they struck.
The tank preparing to attack was not spared either; its turret contorted and twisted as the ammunition within was violently extracted and struck by lightning, exploding. The turret shattered, and flames surged skyward from the vehicle's wreckage.
"…" Karon, who watched in disbelief, vowed he had never witnessed such a spectacle. A psychic user, encumbered by a suppressor, was wielding his powers to decimate his foes. Although the psychic suppressors produced in the Tyran system were somewhat antiquated, their status as a tithe to the Empire indicated their efficacy in restraining psychic abilities.
"Retreat!" Bull shouted at Karon, "While he stalls the enemy's advance!" "We cannot retreat; we must hold our ground!" Karon countered, his voice rising in urgency, "It remains uncertain whether the line has been breached, and if we retreat…"
Before Karon could finish, he was obliterated. Cause of death: unaware of a rebel soldier bearing a bomb nearby, who was coincidentally struck by the lightning Qin Mo had unleashed.
Seeing Karon's remains and his staff fly towards him, Bull wasted no time in leading his guards to escape. Bull's transport was a centaur-class APC, perfectly suited to accommodate him and his personal guards.
Comprising eight individuals clad in powered armor, the guards, though few in number, were more than sufficient to protect their master. In the heat of the moment, Bull did not wait for his guards to open the door; he dashed to the APC, wrenching the door open as he climbed aboard.
However, upon settling into his seat, he was startled to find another person inside the APC. The figure appeared humanoid, but with elongated legs, crouched on the ground, devouring the driver. Their eyes met, and the atmosphere turned palpably awkward.
Two seconds later, the "person" lunged at Bull with a shriek. Bull panicked, swinging his chainsaw sword as his guards, unable to fire, attempted to pull the two apart. Yet, they quickly realized the creature possessed immense strength, and a chaotic tug-of-war ensued, dragging them all out of the vehicle.
The scene erupted into utter disarray. Not only was the APC in turmoil, but the battlefield was equally chaotic. Soldiers were engaged in skirmishes in small clusters; some saw comrades in the trench ahead, only to find enemies behind them. Others fought fiercely, only to discover they were entangled among the rebel soldiers.
Some soldiers, suddenly suppressed by the firepower of a lumber gun, found it impossible to raise their heads, ready to curse the lumber gunner as a fool, only to realize it was the rebels controlling the lumber gun from behind.
The source of this chaos partly stemmed from the infantry unit being caught off guard by a surprise attack, but more significantly, it was due to Qin Mo maneuvering through the rebels, disrupting their tactics and formations.
After dodging an artillery shell and retaliating by destroying another enemy tank, Qin Mo swiftly surveyed the battlefield and recognized that he could not sustain his lone fight for much longer. The exertion of his psychic abilities had drained him.
"The bunker at the center of the position!" Qin Mo called out to his fellow soldiers. His shouts were instantly drowned by the roar of artillery.
Unable to rely on words, Qin Mo acted, rushing towards his comrades and assisting them in their desperate situations. No verbal commands were necessary; the soldiers instinctively knew whom to follow. They fought valiantly down the path that Qin Mo had carved, converging with other allied soldiers, repeating this cycle until over two hundred survivors were regrouped.
Ultimately, the survivors made a concerted effort towards the bunker at the heart of the position. This bunker, only partially constructed and yet to be completed, offered at least walls and fixed lumber guns for protection.