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Chapter 97: The Suffocating Cohort
🕑 Added 2025-11-20 11:28:23 +0000 UTCChapter 97: The Suffocating Cohort
Deep within the subterranean manufactorum of the Cyberpunk world, the dimensional transporter's hum finally dropped to a low, stable drone. Only the hiss of the cooling system remained.
Joric's crimson optical lenses were locked on the main interface, where the data-stream had stabilized.
The bio-signs of Maine's entire crew were clear and steady. Arrival at the designated coordinates: Confirmed.
The final visual feed transmitted by the servo-skull froze on the familiar, dark-red armored figure of Ignis.
Phase One—live transit and coordinate verification—was a success.
This confirmation caused no ripple in Joric's logic-engine. For him, it was merely the successful acquisition of a necessary data-point in the experimental process.
His attention immediately shifted to the next critical node: ensuring the Dimensional Sextant could execute the retrieval protocol flawlessly after its seventy-two-hour cooling and recalibration cycle.
Several mechadendrites extended silently from the shadows of the workshop, beginning a comprehensive diagnostic of the device. They meticulously calibrated every energy circuit and analyzed the structural stress endured by the core resonance-unit during the transit. Each dimensional leap was a severe trial for the precision components; the retrieval phase could not be allowed to fail.
Simultaneously, he activated the pre-set command sequence within the servo-skull that had accompanied Maine's crew.
These commands, sealed before the experiment began, were triggered by the condition: "Successful arrival at coordinates and establishment of preliminary contact with reception unit."
The directives were interlinked. First, they granted Ignis, the Skitarii Marshal, the authority to allocate camp resources to provide basic life-support for Maine's crew, ensuring the survival of the test-subjects during the observation period.
Next, the servo-skull unlocked an isolated data-packet within its local storage. This contained a highly condensed, strictly sanitized summary of the Warhammer 40,000 universe's background lore for Maine's crew to review. The goal was to establish a baseline understanding of the extreme danger and hostility of their environment, preventing any catastrophic actions born of total ignorance.
Finally, the directives mandated that the servo-skull, during the retrieval phase, must bring back specific data-carriers prepared by Ignis according to Joric's earlier instructions.
At this moment, the direct, real-time link between Joric and the Warhammer camp was completely severed.
Like a scientist who has dropped a probe into deep space, all he could do was wait—wait for the probe to return safely with its samples at the appointed time.
He turned, reallocating his primary processing resources to the deep analysis of the massive transit-data log, while a sub-thread continued to monitor the local affairs of the Cyberpunk world.
On the other side, in the Warhammer universe. Within the austere barracks on the edge of the Death World encampment, Maine's crew was experiencing unprecedented levels of "boredom," "oppression," and "information isolation."
After the first day passed in high alertness and maladaptation, they realized Ignis's warning was not a bluff.
Their movement range was strictly limited to a fifty-meter radius around their barracks. Although there were no obvious physical barriers, the silent patrols of red-robed Skitarii and the tracking movements of the strange, heavy weapon-turrets clearly demarcated the invisible boundary.
Any attempt to approach the perimeter immediately drew the attention of the tech-guard. Though they did not fire, their cold, unyielding posture was enough to deter any further steps.
Attempts to communicate with these Skitarii were futile. They either ignored the crew's language entirely or responded with monotone binary-cant, which the servo-skull translated as concise commands: "Prohibited," "Retreat," "Wait."
Aside from Ignis herself, they were unable to effectively communicate with any other unit in the camp. They were stranded on an island of steel and silence.
Rebecca was the first to find it unbearable.
With no outlet for her energy, she paced the narrow open ground or threw punches at the metal walls of the barracks, her reinforced knuckles booming against the steel plate.
"Scrap! This is worse than prison! At least in prison you can get into a fight!" She tore at her dual-colored hair, her green cyber-eyes flashing with agitation. "That tin-can said this is a Death World... outside is just sand and rocks! What's so secret about sand? I bet she just doesn't want us seeing anything!"
Pilar crouched in a corner, fiddling with his long arms, trying to run pointless diagnostics with his micro-tools, but quickly lost interest. "Can't even pick up a network signal... Kiwi, Sasha, how about you guys? Can you crack their internal net? Just let me see the news, anything!"
Sasha and Kiwi sat side-by-side on a simple metal bunk, their temples glowing faintly—the sign of their Electronic Warfare suites running at full capacity.
After a long while, Kiwi opened her eyes first and shook her head, a rare note of defeat in her cool voice. "Negative. Their network protocols... are completely alien. The base logic is different from anything we know. The signal is closed, air-gapped. We can sense powerful energy flows and data-exchanges around us, but we can't interface. It's like hitting an invisible wall."
Sasha added, her voice softer, "Also, the electromagnetic background noise here is strange. It has a... rhythmic fluctuation. It's not natural. It feels like interference caused by some massive machinery running constantly. The interference itself acts as a shield."
Falco used the time to record as much environmental data as possible: atmospheric composition, temperature fluctuations, gravity parameters, and the trajectory of the two dim suns on the horizon. He compared this data with the limited info provided by the servo-skull, trying to piece together a picture of this world.
Dorio remained mostly silent, standing against the wall like a monolith. Her enhanced senses were gathering intel, but she focused on the camp's operational patterns: the Skitarii patrol routes, and the models and potential armaments of the massive vehicles she could see. This was her instinct as the team's shield.
Maine, as the leader, bore the greatest pressure. He had to manage his crew's morale and decipher the deeper meaning behind Joric's actions.
He gathered everyone, sitting them in a circle in the center of the barracks.
"Cool it, everyone," Maine's voice was low and firm. "The Boss didn't send us here just for three days of solitary confinement. This is the test. He's testing our psychological endurance and discipline in a completely alien, restricted environment. Everything we do here is probably being logged."
He pointed to the servo-skull hovering in the corner. "The Boss gave us some data. Use this time to study it. We need to understand what kind of world we're standing on to know what we might face in the future."
Receiving the command, the servo-skull's eyes flashed red, projecting a holographic display into the air.
The content was pre-packaged by Joric, extremely brief.
First, it showed a blurred map of a human Imperium spanning the stars, emphasizing the core tenets of Human Supremacy and Eternal War.
Then, it briefly explained the core of the Cult Mechanicus: their worship of the Machine God, and their eternal quest for lost technology and Standard Template Constructs (STC). Finally, in a heavy tone, it emphasized the extreme danger and endless conflict that permeated this universe.
The information was limited, but enough to unfold a vast, harsh, and alien cosmic panorama before them.
(End of Chapter)
Comments
Florian geht niemanden was an
The same chapter as the one before
