Chapter 2: Thunderstorm Exosuit Warrior Saves the Squad
The squad leader sighed deeply, securing the depleted assault rifle onto the weapon rack mounted on their backplate using magnetic force. Bending down, they retrieved a short black stick from a sheath on their armored thigh. With a press of the activation bolt, a section of the stick extended, forming a narrow blade akin to a Tang sword.
The squad leader gazed almost affectionately at it, inspecting the weapon. Its monomolecular edge was 110 centimeters long, reflecting no light. The blade featured micro-serrations, and a faint hum emitted upon the secondary activation—a telltale sign of ion vibrational blades. Reassuringly, the standard infantry vibroblade was a reliable weapon, manufactured in the Earth Federation's arsenal. Its closed length precisely measured 130 centimeters, with an effective blade length of 110 centimeters. Made from Durai alloy, it could swiftly cut through most known materials, empowered by 60 million ultrasonic vibrations per second in conjunction with the micro-serrations, granting unparalleled cutting potential.
The squad leader was gearing up for close combat! Not just them, Astrala and Nova had also installed new power packs, drawing their own infantry blades, fighting side by side with the squad leader to defend their position. The three donned humanoid mecha battle suits, presenting a fearsome sight to their enemies. Nova, the youngest, was a competent mid-tier Phase Five warrior. Meanwhile, the squad leader stood as a pinnacle sixth-tier expert.
As Private Wilkins' anti-material rifle finally clicked empty on the battlefield, a dry click echoed. Moments later, Faro's rapid-fire plasma cannon began cycling in an empty chamber as its hydrogen fuel cells were depleted.
They were out of ammunition.
"Kill!" The squad leader roared, their individual armor's thermoelectric thrusters spinning up, emitting a piercing whirr, propelling them eight meters high into the air.
Before touching ground, they crashed into the midst of the insect swarm, their sword arm rising and falling, cleaving a giant centipede with a single strike.
"Kill!" Nova and Astrala screamed, leaping into the seething mass of giant centipedes following their commander.
"Kill!" Faro and Wilkins repeated angrily, discarding their spent weapons, drawing their vibroblades, then joining the melee.
Private Wilkins had no time to assess the overall situation; his attention was entirely focused on defending against the attacks of the colossal centipedes converging toward him. Their large size, spiked multiple legs, and powerful stingers concealed a threat capable of piercing individual power armor suits. The classic infantry rotation and slashing technique were executed with formidable power, driven by the muscular fibers of the individual power armor.
"Hiss!" His powerful attacks cleanly bisected two giant centipedes. But on the third attempt, his blade grazed the thick exoskeleton. In that moment, several spiky forelimbs slashed across the front of his powered armor, leaving a dozen wounds on the alloy.
Wilkens leaped backward, repeatedly swinging his blade to knock down one giant centipede after another, but more relentless creatures surged forward, surrounding him. Despite his valiant efforts, the damage to his battered powered armor continued to accumulate.
"Warning! Remaining power 20%... Warning! Remaining power 18..." the armor system alerted.
"Shut up, you damn machine!" Wilkens roared, unleashing an eight-strike combo that obliterated six more giant centipedes.
"This is bad, my suit is almost out of power," came Nova's desperate voice over the team communication.
"Come over here; I still have 15% power. I'll transfer the battery pack to you!" Wilkens shouted.
"What about you?"
"I won't let my teammates die while there's still breath in her!"
Nova was about to respond, but her powered armor interrupted her. "Power at 0, emergency release of operator!"
With a hiss, the armor forcefully opened, ejecting a fit, tight-suited woman—Private Nova, the team's communication specialist. Surrounded by giant centipedes, she had lost her powered armor and, together with the impact knife clenched in the combat suit's powered glove, was now vulnerable in a perilous situation.
Seeing a centipede charging straight at her, Nova momentarily forgot she was a formidable mid-level fifth-order warrior. She screamed, crouching down like a fetus, as the centipedes, ready to tear into her slender neck, approached.
The rest of the team members were thirty to forty meters away, with only Private Wilkens nearby at a distance of ten meters—still too far for timely intervention.
As another giant centipede lunged toward him, Wilkens had lost his sanity, emanating the stench of death.
"Damn it, if I'm going to die, then let it be like this!" he roared, paying no attention to the creature. With a mighty effort, he hurled his long knife, the blade spinning forcefully through the air.
When Wilkens faced his adversary, the blade of his impact knife sliced through, cleaving the centipede closest to Nova in two. The malevolent spiky forelimbs tilted forward, tearing through his side armor and revealing the metal beneath.
The force of that blow momentarily staggered Wilkens, but the giant centipede itself, owing to its strength, recoiled slightly.
Seizing this slight opening, Wilkens roared and twisted himself.
A sweep of his leg, a thunderous impact, sent the centipede flying more than ten meters. Instead of pursuing, Wilkens desperately charged towards Nova's position.
But it was still too far. As another massive centipede approached the paralyzed Nova, his heart tightened. "Go to hell, you damn thing!" he hoarsely shouted.
Then, miraculously, two beams of light pierced through the centipede, impaling it. The flames of energy didn't stop there; they intertwined in the air, forming a protective barrier that blocked the endless centipedes.
A series of deafening explosions echoed from behind. Precision bombings targeted the group of giant centipedes, and the shockwaves weakened near the team's location.
Soon, they understood—they were being rescued! The team began a fighting retreat, using the new defensive line to gain precious time.
But Wilkens didn't waste time celebrating. He scooped up Nova in his arms and rushed back to join Faro and the others. It was only then, gasping for breath, that he saw in the distance the beams of flame that marked their saviors.
On a ridge about two hundred meters away, three seven-meter-tall bipedal Thunderstorm exosuits took large strides, opening fire where the centipedes approached, unleashing a deadly rain upon the creatures.
"Thunderstorm exosuits! Impressive!" Faro exclaimed, panting, his eyes sparkling as he stared at the exosuits. What infantryman didn't dream of having a Thunderstorm exosuit?
Wilkens and Nova murmured in equally reverent tones, "If only I could become a Thunderstorm warrior..."
Because these exosuits represented the pinnacle of the Earth Federation's ground forces, unmatched in both firepower and protection.
To qualify as a Thunderstorm warrior, one needed to master at least the eighth stage of hand-to-hand combat—a feat beyond the reach of most infantry.
The Thunderstorm exosuits were essentially walking tanks armed to the teeth... no wonder Thunderstorm warriors represented an elite combat force.
The team watched in awe as volley after volley decimated the endless giant centipedes, leaving countless corpses and terrifying even the few hundred survivors into a frenzied retreat.
A Thunderstorm warrior stationed on the high ground in a surveillance position kept their weapon aimed at the fleeing creatures but refrained from firing. Meanwhile, the third Thunderstorm exosuit surged forward until it reached the team, and its hatch hissed open. A woman dressed in form-fitting black synthetic fabric emerged from the cockpit.
Standing at approximately 170 centimeters tall, she possessed a gracefully sculpted figure, described only by the term "sculpted perfection." An elegantly oval face, black hair fashioned into a simple bun, sleek thigh-high boots encased her shapely legs, and on a pair of subtle metallic shin guards were embedded holsters holding an energy pistol and a 30-centimeter short staff—a portrayal of military elegance.
She was stunning, awe-inspiringly beautiful.
Wilkens stood in stunned silence before uttering a reverent murmur, "Lieutenant Casiopeia of the Elite Thunderstorm Exo-Armor Division... I never thought we'd be saved by a goddess!"
Even Sergeant Rex, their squad leader, lost his composure. "It's indeed Lieutenant Casiopeia! What have I done to deserve such an honor?"
Faro nervously swallowed. "Sergeant, you're a married man, but Lieutenant Casiopeia is my goddess! I solemnly swear to win her heart..."
Wilkens shook his head, refraining from further commentary. After all, on this planet, only the dead or the brain-dead wouldn't envy Casiopeia.
This exceptionally talented 28-year-old woman hailed from a prestigious and noble family, having received an aristocratic education. Her beauty was as striking as her Thunderstorm exosuit. With combat proficiency at the mid-ninth stage and a genius-level skill in mech control, she indisputably stood at the pinnacle of the Earth Federation's military martial culture elite pyramid.
No wonder she was so alluring in the fervent dreams of soldiers like Wilkens and Faro! By a stroke of luck, they even found themselves stationed at the same base as this goddess.
However, for ordinary infantry like Wilkens, only at the early fifth stage and with no familial connections, the gap between them was as vast as that between a pampered princess and a humble farmer. Faro and the squad leader were in the same boat, only able to admire Atalas from afar, occasionally harboring some worthless fantasies.
Lieutenant Casiopeia cast a cold glance at them. "Are you from L28 Base, Firepower Unit 028 Marine Corps?"
The squad leader saluted. "Sergeant Rex, L28 Marine Corps. Thank you very much for saving our lives."
"Sergeant Rex, we are comrades. Your distress signal was received, and my team happened to be on patrol ten kilometers away. We were close enough for a timely rescue. Is anyone injured now?"
Wilkens tapped on his armor with his knuckles. "Lieutenant, our suits are out of power." He flashed the most mischievous grin. Perhaps they could chat during the long journey back to the base? Get to know this cultured lieutenant better. Maybe find some common ground?
But Casiopeia didn't even glance at him; instead, she returned to the cockpit and closed the hatch. Her voice came through the internal speakers. "Transport vehicles are on their way and will arrive shortly. I have to continue my mission. Goodbye, comrades, take care!"
With that, the Thunderstorm exosuit pivoted, accelerating to over 100 kilometers per hour, gradually disappearing into the distance with her teammates. The sonic booms they left behind echoed through the valley.
The three Marines in powered armor lifted their face shields, gaping in astonishment at the rapidly vanishing figure.
Observing the dumbfounded expressions of Privates Wilkens and Faro, Astra shook her head. "The lady has already left. Stop staring, 'or your eyeballs will fall out.'"
Nova was still trembling, muttering, "Ice Queens like her are forever out of reach. Would you freeze yourselves to death trying to thaw her?"
Faro just chuckled. "You girls won't understand. Chasing a girl is a process, not a destination."
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone