"How can you just leave like this? Aren't you the United Nations Space Command (UNSC) Defense Forces? Save us...!"
Everyone turned their heads in unison, only to see a Korean resistance survivor lying helplessly on the ground, crying out in despair.
She knelt beside a severely wounded man, his body charred beyond recognition, clutching him tightly. Blood covered her from head to toe, her appearance utterly disheveled as she wailed.
"Ugh... Dad... No, no, Appa...!"
She was none other than Kwan Ha, the daughter of the resistance leader, General Jin Ha. Behind her stood a group of battered, wounded survivors, their clothes in tatters, faces either blank with shock or contorted in grief.
"Master Chief, we were not equipped with the appropriate medical supplies for this Madrigal operation. Jin Ha's condition… conventional treatment won't help much. On the contrary, it will only prolong his suffering. He won't last long."
Spartan-028, equipped with a communications backpack, spoke in a low voice. Though she didn't say it outright, her meaning was clear—there was no saving him. Rather than let him die in agony, it might be kinder to end it quickly.
With only a few adrenaline injectors, morphine doses, biofoam canisters, and solid-state hemostatic agents in their tactical medical kits, there was nothing they could do for injuries of this magnitude.
After all, the Spartans' personal life-support systems were integrated within their Mjolnir power armor, tailored specifically for them. The specialized bioactive compounds inside were far beyond what an ordinary human could endure.
Even if a normal person could withstand them, as Spartans, they wouldn't remove their armor just to keep a UNSC-declared insurgent leader alive.
After a brief silence, the Master Chief turned to the Night Lords officer, who had just put his helmet back on.
"Could you have your men take a look? He's still human."
"Oh?"
Disengaging the lightning claw's disassembly field, the Night Lords officer crossed his arms. From the subtle distortion in his helmet's voice amplifier, it was clear he let out a surprised chuckle.
"They're rebels, aren't they?"
"Before we landed, I was observing you..." He turned his head slightly, his crimson electronic visor locking onto the bound Sangheili prisoners.
"Compared to the aliens, they seem to hate you more. Even with their own kind being slaughtered by xenos, the moment they saw you, their first instinct was to raise their weapons and open fire."
"History?"
The Master Chief nodded, his voice devoid of emotion. "Mission requirements."
"Ah, I see."
Applying his own Selenar Imperial values, the Night Lords officer delivered his verdict.
"But... attacking government forces, rebelling against authority—that makes them insurgents. What more is there to say? The fact that we didn't slaughter them all is already mercy enough."
"As soldiers, our duty is to protect humanity at all costs. Right now, humanity's enemy is the Covenant. And he—he is human."
Gazing at Master Chief 117, whose face was obscured by the massive amber-tinted visor, the Night Lords officer murmured with an air of intrigue, "I find myself appreciating you more and more."
"Medic, go check on them. Save whoever can be saved—who knows, they may one day bask in the light of the God-Emperor."
"Understood."
A senior medic of the 12th Legion, the World Eaters, identifiable by the bright red spiral cross on his shoulder plate, hurried toward the wounded resistance survivors. The heavy, thunderous sound of his approach resembled the growl of an engine-powered bulldozer.
Is this… a doctor?
No one knew what others were thinking, but the resistance fighters at this outpost were undoubtedly terrified. A chainsaw axe partially visible behind his waist, a blood-dripping head hanging from his belt—this… this… was he a butcher or a medic?
"Little Kwan… Little Kwan…"
Jin Ha weakly opened his bloodied mouth, dark blood speckled with organ fragments gushing out uncontrollably. His breath faltered, and gradually, life faded from his body.
"Dad! It's okay, you're going to be okay… Please, save him!"
The World Eaters medic merely shook his head regretfully.
"Fourth-degree burns. Heavy metal poisoning. Half his body carbonized. Severe hemorrhaging. Massive organ loss… He has stopped breathing. Bury him."
Before them, Jin Ha was no longer recognizable. His clothes and hair had been incinerated in the pickup truck explosion, his entire body severely burned, limbs charred and severed—a stark contrast to his appearance just three minutes prior.
In truth, a single injection of Honkai Flesh Reconstruction Serum could have brought him back—so long as he wasn't completely beyond saving.
But alas, humanity in this universe was not yet a subject of Selene. Without passing the Honkai energy identification protocols set by Selene, forcibly using Honkai-based medical products would likely turn him into a zombie or a synthetic Honkai Beast.
Medical serums differed fundamentally from weaponized anti-infection high-energy applications. Biological regeneration was, in essence, a controlled Honkai zombie transformation—except that under Selene, the ultimate entity, all side effects were purged, leaving behind only pure physical restoration.
Moreover, any unconverted raw Honkai energy blocks in the Imperial Navy's warship stockpiles—while serving as a universal, high-efficiency power source under Imperial control—would spell disaster for any universe or faction daring to steal and use them without Selene's protection.
At best, they'd trigger a zombie -class bioweapon outbreak. That would be the least of their concerns.
"...."
Without waiting for Kwan Ha to respond, the World Eaters medic stepped over him and approached Janka and the other surviving resistance fighters, offering them what could only be described as "gentle" reassurance.
"Shut the hell up! Do you want to live or die?!"
As they fell silent, he crouched down and began inspecting their injuries one by one.
First was a middle-aged Black man lying on the ground, gasping sharply through his teeth.
"Let's see… Hm. Minor cuts all over the body. First-degree burns. A shrapnel wound piercing the lower abdomen…"
As he spoke, a "Life V-3B Type" device extended from his heavy vambrace, integrating with the "medi-pack" carried by the World Eaters on their backs to form the Astartes' battlefield medical system.
With practiced efficiency, he injected a local anesthetic, made a precise incision, and deployed the thin, dexterous mechanical tendrils from his vambrace. These mechanical appendages meticulously extracted shrapnel fragments and necrotic tissue that had mixed into the abdominal cavity. Soon, with a controlled infusion of nutrient solution, the World Eater systematically sutured the wound using dissolvable fiber.
"Next."
In less than a minute, the remaining seven resistance fighters were all treated with remarkable efficiency, three of them even being pulled back from the brink of death.
"Regroup. We're leaving."
After briefly conversing with the surviving Black woman, Janka, and reaching an agreement, they instructed the resistance members to wait in place. The United Nations Space Command (UNSC) rescue teams would arrive shortly to evacuate them to safety.
Before leaving, they handed Janka a tracking device. The Master Chief exchanged glances with his Silver Team members before making his way toward the center of the Astartes formation.
"Have you made your decision?"
"Yes. Doctor's orders."
This time, due to the Astartes' landing, the Master Chief had unexpectedly come into contact with Forerunner relics, triggering long-buried memories. As a result, his emotional capacity and independent thought processes had been awakened, allowing him to form his own opinions.
Even so, at this moment, he remained Dr. Halsey's finest creation. His emotional suppression module was still intact. For the sake of humanity, he was willing to follow any command given by his superiors.
And that was precisely what made Dr. Halsey most proud.
According to her theory, achieving the pinnacle of human combat effectiveness required the suppression of emotional faculties, ensuring that warriors maintained absolute rationality in all circumstances. Only then could they achieve optimal combat performance.
The emotional suppression module was a product of this philosophy.
At that moment—there they were again. And her, again.
"How dare you make this decision?! This is a betrayal of my father!"
Her, again.
Following the commotion, the Astartes collectively turned their attention to the unfolding infighting among their own ranks.
Sigh. If only I had a snack right now.
"Kwan, I'm truly sorry for your father's loss. But you've seen it yourself—I've lost so many comrades as well. The aliens are real. We must work together now. If we cling to our old ideas of independence, this disaster won't be the first… and it won't be the last."
Clutching the distress signal beacon given to her by the Master Chief, Janka spoke solemnly.
"Kwan, this isn't the time for tantrums. Everyone, I respect the 'General'—we all do. But we, the people of Madrigal need to survive before we can even talk about independence. The aliens won't negotiate with us."
"What are you saying? You've been bought out? You're just afraid of dying, aren't you?!"
"Kwan, no one wants to die. Being afraid of death…"
Before Janka could finish speaking, Kwan Ha cut her off brusquely. "I'm not afraid!"
"I'm not like you. My father fought for Madrigal's independence. That was his dream—that was what he wanted!"
Janka let out a weary sigh and said weakly, "Kwan, you're exhausted. You need rest. We're not betraying our cause—we're simply sharing information with the other outer colonies."
"Sharing what?" Kwan Ha's expression remained blank, but her father's death had pushed her into a state of emotional collapse. Like a rabid dog, she lashed out indiscriminately at anyone who tried to reason with her.
"OK, OK." Janka spread her hands in a gesture of patience, explaining, "We're explaining what we saw. We're telling the truth about the aliens—their existence, their brutality. This will help humanity unite against them—"
"Enough! How dare you cooperate with the UNSC butchers? My mother died at their hands! My father spent his entire life fighting for our planet's liberation! And what about you?"
She pointed furiously at the Astartes standing nearby, words spilling out without restraint.
"Have you ever stopped to wonder why the aliens just so happened to show up on Madrigal? Why they attacked our base at exactly the right moment? It was them! Those treacherous UNSC bastards lured the aliens here to achieve their goal—enslaving our planet—"
...What?
The Astartes exchanged bewildered glances. Had they just been dragged into this mess?
So this was what it felt like to be repaid with betrayal.
"Kwan Ha! Have you lost your mind?!"
Janka's face twisted in panic as she noticed the subtle movement of an Astartes warrior behind Kwan Ha. Her expression changed drastically, and she bolted away, screaming in horror.
Bang!
Squelch!
And just like that, the world fell silent.
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