LIGHTNOVELWORLD Chapter 32: Upcoming Operations.
September 2184. Bunker 00. Unknown Location.
The hum of newly operational systems echoed softly through the corridors of Bunker 00. With the recent upgrades, Tessa and her two AI companions navigated the bunker and its surrounding networks with remarkable ease. This technological resurgence was not merely a convenience but a critical advantage for the Vital Fabric, symbolizing the growing cooperation between humans and drones. However, this tentative harmony was tempered by unease, as their attention fixated on the arrival of four Helldivers at the bunker's entrance. Among them, one figure stood out—a man whose fusion of flesh and machinery exuded a palpable sense of menace.
"A hybrid of organic and synthetic," observed the female AI, her synthetic voice sharp and precise. "It appears his augmentations were voluntary. Yet his overt hostility toward the drones presents a significant risk. He warrants close surveillance."
The Helldivers, as a group, projected an air of grim purpose. While one exhibited no apparent hostility, their demeanor collectively signaled that they were not here for diplomacy. Their presence was a harbinger of action, not words.
Tessa monitored the scene in silence, her expression clouded with concern. The sight of the man with bionic limbs unsettled her deeply, his altered form a stark reminder of the war's escalating horrors. She broke the silence, her voice tinged with sorrow.
"This war is transforming them into something unrecognizable," she said. "Even during the First Galactic War, Helldivers never descended to such extremes. To sacrifice one's own body for the sake of combat... it's monstrous."
"Saber," the male AI identified, his tone measured but grave. "His condition is problematic. The extent of his humanity is unclear. The Enemy's capacity to manipulate technology raises an alarming possibility—should his augmentations be compromised, he could be turned against us, a living weapon in their arsenal."
The implications were chilling, and Tessa's unease deepened. The male AI continued after a brief pause. "This development must be reported to the Criterion and the Vital Fabric immediately. I will relay the information. Will you and the others manage in my absence?"
"Go," the female AI replied firmly. "We'll remain vigilant. If circumstances deteriorate, we will extract ourselves."
In a flicker of digital light, the male AI disengaged, leaving Tessa and her companion to continue their surveillance. Their focus returned to the monitors, observing the uneasy interaction between Uzi's group and the Helldivers. Despite the tension, they clung to hope that this fragile alliance between humans and drones would endure and not crumble under the weight of mutual suspicion.
Beyond the bunker, however, a darker force stirred. The entity known as the Enemy had begun advancing its stratagems, deploying expendable pawns across the desolate surface of Copper 9. Among them, a small contingent crept toward Camp 98, an abandoned tunnel outpost once linked to Facility 12. The significance of their movement was unclear, but the intent was unmistakable. The Enemy's maneuvers were deliberate, each calculated step tightening the grip of its shadow over the remnants of this world.
September 2184. Camp 98.
Under the oppressive shroud of storm clouds blotting out the heavens, three figures traversed a lifeless expanse. The skeletal remains of dead trees jutted from the snow-covered ground like blackened veins clawing toward the sky, their silhouettes casting jagged shadows over the desolation. The figures moved with purpose, their forms abominations—a grotesque meld of flesh and metal. Corruption seeped from their very beings as if the Null's influence had twisted not only their bodies but their essence.
Leading the group was what once had been a combat drone. Its metallic frame now tarnished and warped by organic growths, moved with a disjointed gait. Red optics, flickering with faint static, scanned the horizon until it spotted a decaying structure in the distance. The voice that escaped its broken vox modulator was fragmented, riddled with distortions, yet still carried an edge of command.
"[Annoyed] Finally... we're here. The tunnel should be close, according to the Null."
Behind it, a second figure shifted impatiently, her movements a blend of mechanical precision and grotesque vitality. What had once been a worker drone now bore grotesque wings—part flesh, part machine—that spasmed against the wind like carrion birds waiting to strike. Her limbs were laced with organic tendrils clinging to her frame, a mockery of life. Her optics burned an unnatural neon red as she spoke, her tone laced with scorn.
"[Frustrated] Remind me why the Null even cares about this place? Humans are back? So what? We'll tear through them just like before."
The combat drone halted, its corrupted visage twisting as it turned to glare at her. The flicker of static in its optics intensified, giving the impression of an ember ready to ignite.
"[Annoyed] Fool! Last time, we caught them off guard—and the squids were already dismantling their defenses. This time, things are different. The Null suspects they've allied with those drones. Together, they're a threat we can't afford to underestimate."
Without waiting for a reply, the drone turned back toward the structure. Snow crunched under its malformed feet as it approached the rusting door, each step resonating with the weight of a corrupted purpose. Reaching the entrance, it didn't hesitate. Servo-motors screamed as it wrenched the door free from its hinges, the metallic screech reverberating through the empty wasteland. The door clattered against the frozen ground, an echo of violence in the stillness.
Behind it, the female drone smirked, the mockery evident in her synthetic voice.
"[Amused] You ever think about trying the handle first?"
The combat drone's optics flared as it whirled around, its voice dripping with venom.
"[Angry] Keep flapping that mouth, and I'll personally feed you your wings—piece by piece."
The third figure, a hulking silhouette of mangled machinery and flesh, remained silent. Its movements were slow, deliberate as if savoring the tension crackling between its companions. The faint hum of its corrupted systems resonated in the air, a low reminder of its ominous presence.
Ahead of them, the derelict structure loomed—a testament to a forgotten war and a silent witness to humanity's stubborn resilience. Cracks spiderwebbed across its surface, and frost clung to every corner like death's embrace. Somewhere within lay the passage they sought, a path buried beneath years of abandonment and ruin.
The storm above raged on, the howling wind mingling with the hiss of corrupted servos. As the trio stepped inside, their shadows stretched across the frozen ground like specters of annihilation. They were agents of the Null, harbingers of chaos, and soon, Camp 98 would bear witness to their grim purpose.
September 2184. Bunker 00. Outside the Entrance.
Through the oppressive veil of storm clouds, Pelican 1 cut through the chaos of the sky, its engines a defiant roar against the howling winds. The descent was flawless, a stark contrast to the violent tempest surrounding it. Below, the once-imposing wall of Bunker 00 had crumbled, its ancient stones stripped away and replaced with a new, coldly efficient barrier—a structure forged for a new age of war. The land surrounding it was scarred, frozen trenches threading through the frostbitten earth like a cruel reminder of SEAF's readiness. Beyond the reinforced wall, a labyrinth of tents and prefabricated shelters had risen, temporary bastions for the forces gathering, bracing themselves for what was to come.
"This is Pelican 1. Initiating landing sequence. Touchdown in ten seconds," came the pilot's voice, crackling over the radio, the hum of the engines tapering off as the craft descended into place with calculated precision.
As the ramp descended, a gust of biting wind and swirling snow immediately flooded the platform. The cold was sharp, biting into Jason's skin as he stepped out, his eyes narrowing against the flurry. Around him, soldiers moved like shadows, their footsteps silent but purposeful—each one a cog in the immense machine that was preparing for whatever would come next. The drones—those ghostly, metallic entities—were conspicuously absent, reassigned, it seemed, to tasks elsewhere. A subtle shift in tactics, a necessary recalibration in a world that had long since stopped playing by the rules.
"Helldiver, your squad is waiting inside," a soldier called out from the edge of the platform, his voice almost swallowed by the wind.
Jason nodded, his gaze flicking over the scene. "Any issues with the drones?"
"None so far," the soldier replied, his eyes darting toward the distant drones. "They're performing as expected. No signs of hostility."
Jason's eyes darkened, his mind grinding over the unspoken weight of those words. An uneasy truce wasn't something you trusted. "Good. Keep it that way. If anything changes—anything at all—let me know."
With a single, curt nod, Jason moved toward the towering blast doors of Bunker 00. Above them, the flag of Super Earth snapped fiercely in the wind, its presence a defiant flash of color against the bleak, frozen landscape—a symbol of endurance in a world that had forgotten what that meant.
"Open the door," a soldier barked, and with a deep, echoing groan, the massive doors shuddered and began to part, revealing the dimly lit interior beyond.
Inside, the atmosphere was charged with the energy of a dozen different tasks unfolding simultaneously. The cavernous space was alive with the hum of activity: Helldivers clustered in tight groups, sharpening their weapons or checking their gear. On the far side of the bay, Uzi, Lizzy, Thad, and Rebecca stood apart from the others, their bodies tense, as if each one was waiting for something to snap. Saber hovered nearby, his hulking frame still and watchful—an unspoken sentinel for whatever threats might emerge.
"Helldivers," Jason's voice rang out, clear and authoritative. The room stilled at once, soldiers straightening and saluting sharply. Jason returned the salute, his steps purposeful as he moved toward Meus.
"It's about time, Jason," Meus said with a gruff smile, his hand gripping Jason's in a firm, weathered handshake. "I thought you'd left us in those cryopods for good."
Jason offered a thin smile of his own, the corner of his mouth twitching with the effort. "I would've woken you sooner, but there were... other priorities." His gaze shifted briefly to Uzi's group. "Looks like you've made the locals' acquaintance."
Meus snorted, his eyes narrowing as they flicked over the drones in the distance. "So it's true? These things—SE tech? Feels like something this advanced wouldn't just disappear."
Jason nodded, his expression tightening. "Remember X-45? Same tech line. We fought tooth and nail to secure the DSS plans there. The same tech, the same blood spilled to keep it. What we're dealing with here is the continuation of that story—unfinished business."
Meus took a deep breath, his face darkening with the memory of the brutal battles. "We lost good people for that intel. And this planet—looks like more than just an invasion. Feels... deliberate."
Jason's jaw clenched as the weight of the truth settled on his shoulders. "It was. SES razed this place to the ground. The Illuminate did their part, but the real destruction? That was engineered. Facility 7 might hold some of the answers, but I need to get eyes on it before SEAF breaches it."
Saber's voice cut through the exchange, heavy with skepticism. "And the drones? You trust them enough to walk into something like that?"
Jason met Saber's cold stare with a quiet resolve. "I trust what I see. These aren't the machines we fought for months. They honor their dead—human dead—like it's their own. Something's changed. That evolution makes them... something else. Worth considering."
Saber's lips thinned, but he gave a stiff nod. "Your call, sir. I'll keep my distance, as long as they stay out of mine."
Jason's eyes narrowed, but he acknowledged Saber with a simple nod. "You've got your mission. Focus on that. I'll handle the drones. They're not the only thing we need to worry about."
As the Helldivers broke off to prepare for the coming task, Jason moved toward Uzi's group. The tension in the air was palpable, but their gaze met his without hostility, though their wariness was clear.
"You're holding up well," Jason said to Uzi, his voice measured but carrying an edge of command. "Facility 7 isn't just another mission. It's one key to everything that's been buried. Stay sharp, stay close. We're not repeating the past."
Uzi's expression was unreadable, but she gave a curt nod, her posture rigid. Behind her, Lizzy and Thad exchanged silent glances, but they remained silent.
The air in Bunker 00 thrummed with a quiet intensity. Every step felt heavy with purpose, each movement a prelude to something greater—something that would either tear them apart or finally bring them the answers they were desperately seeking as Jason moved toward the command center, his heartbeat with the weight of what lay ahead. What they faced wasn't just an objective; it was the edge of a cliff. And whether they would fall or fly depended on how they handled what was coming next.
Bunker 00. Corridor 1.
The corridor stretched ahead, the sterile hum of machinery and flickering light strips overhead a stark contrast to the desolation that had greeted them the first time they traversed this path. What had once been a tomb of silence and disrepair now pulsed with life, the long-dormant systems of Bunker 00 whirring back into operation. Jason led the way, his boots crunching softly against the cold steel floor, flanked by Uzi, Lizzy, Thad, and Rebecca. Behind them, the sound of distant activity echoed faintly—teams laboring to bring the command room back online.
Thad broke the quiet first, his voice curious but cautious. "Jason… I overheard earlier. What is this X-45 and DSS? It sounded important when you mentioned it to the others."
"It sounded more than important," Lizzy added, her optics flickering faintly in the dim light. "The way you spoke about it—it feels… pivotal."
Rebecca chimed in, her tone sharper. "And what about that Saber guy? He's been through hell, hasn't he? What happened to him?"
Before Jason could answer, Uzi cut in, her voice firm but not unkind. "Everyone, enough. Don't pile on the questions right now. He doesn't need that."
Jason glanced at her, offering a faint nod of appreciation. "It's alright, Uzi. They deserve answers." He slowed his pace slightly, his voice steady as he began to explain. "X-45 is… was… a planet deep in Automaton-controlled space. A century ago, during the First Galactic War, it was as significant as Copper 9. It housed an Advanced Weapons Laboratory—an invaluable asset. But as the war neared its bloody crescendo, X-45 was hit with a nuclear bombardment. Not as severe as Copper 9, but enough to render it abandoned. For a hundred years, it lay silent."
Jason paused, his gaze distant as the memories surfaced. "Then came Operation Starslayer. Our mission was to retrieve the plans for the Democracy Space Station—the DSS. We succeeded, but it wasn't easy. X-45 wasn't just a graveyard of technology; it was a battlefield waiting to awaken."
Lizzy tilted her head slightly, her tone contemplative. "But… why was it bombed? Why destroy something so critical?"
Jason's jaw tightened. "To keep it out of the Cyborgs' hands. They were one of Super Earth's most relentless enemies back then—an army of flesh and steel with no regard for surrender. But what happened on Copper 9…" He hesitated, the weight of history pressing down on his words. "The devastation here wasn't just overkill—it was annihilation. Someone wanted this planet dead. Completely. And not because of you Drones. It was something else."
The drones exchanged uneasy glances, the faint hum of their optics betraying their unease.
Rebecca, her voice quieter now, circled back. "And Saber? What's his story?"
Jason exhaled, his steps slowing as the memories came unbidden. "Saber's a veteran of the Western Front. He's been fighting the Automatons since the early days of this war. Lost his arm and leg to what we call Berserkers." His voice dipped, weighted with grim detail. "They're relentless killing machines, armed with meat saws. They hunt in packs. One of them took Saber's arm clean off. Another mangled his leg while he was down. If it weren't for three Helldivers dragging him out, he wouldn't have made it. He survived, but at a cost. Prosthetics replaced what he lost."
The group fell into silence, the stark reality of war hanging heavily in the air. Jason continued, his tone softer now. "He's not the only one. We call them Steel Veterans—soldiers who've sacrificed pieces of their humanity for the fight. Saber carries that burden, just like so many others."
Uzi's optics dimmed slightly, a flicker of sympathy crossing her features. "No wonder he hates drones. That kind of pain… it scars deep."
Jason stopped abruptly, turning to face her. "I don't have metal limbs if that's what you're asking. I've been lucky. But luck doesn't mean I haven't come close. Scars aren't always visible, Uzi."
For a moment, the corridor was silent save for the steady hum of the bunker's systems. Jason's gaze shifted forward again, his voice steady. "I've fought on both fronts. Seen planets liberated and lost again. I've felt the weight of comrades falling beside me. But this war isn't over. It won't be for a long time."
As they resumed walking, the weight of Jason's words settled over the group. The Second Galactic War had raged for nearly a year, leaving billions dead and countless worlds shattered. Though they were far from the main front lines, isolated under a communications blackout on the fringes of the galaxy, Jason knew their reprieve wouldn't last. The war would find them eventually.
After what felt like an eternity, they reached the end of the corridor. Before them loomed the reinforced door to the command room, its surface gleaming faintly in the harsh bunker light.
Jason placed a hand on the control panel, pausing as he turned back to his companions. "On the other side of this door is where it begins. Facility 7… it's the first step forward. If we're lucky, it could lead us to the answers we seek to what all happen here."
He let the words hang in the air. Then, with a hiss of decompression, the door slid open, revealing the command room beyond—a place where decisions would be made, and the course of their future would be set.
Bunker 00. Command Room
Jason wasted no time after learning about the command room in Bunker 00. He ordered its immediate restoration, along with the reactivation of other vital systems. Reestablishing the uplink with the fleet in orbit was essential; it would ensure better coordination and strategic oversight. Amidst the flurry of activity, V—once a command drone during Copper 9's pre-war years—stood silently by the holographic map, her yellow optics scanning every detail as it updated with new data. Around her, human engineers and worker drones toiled together, piecing the bunker back to functionality.
"Uh, V, right? Mind if I ask you something?" one of the engineers ventured, his gaze drifting upward.
V followed his line of sight. Suspended from the ceiling by their tails, wings folded protectively around their forms, were N and J in sleep mode. The sight was familiar to combat drones, but she knew it could unnerve humans unaccustomed to it.
"They're sleeping," she explained with a faint smile. "That's normal for combat drones. Hanging like that saves space and lets us rest while staying alert."
"Creepy, if you ask me…" muttered the engineer before returning to his task.
Another worker chimed in, "You think that's bad? Try walking through their quarters at night. Rows of them hanging there in the dark, just glowing optics piercing the shadows. Freaked me out at first."
The conversation shifted as a younger engineer glanced at V with evident curiosity. "You know, I've worked on plenty of Super Earth projects, but the tech in you Drones is on another level. Can't wrap my head around how they built you. Still, I'm glad we've got you on our side."
"We're glad to be useful again," V replied, her voice tinged with sincerity. "For a century, we barely held on. If you humans hadn't arrived, we might've been forced to abandon the bunker entirely."
The fragile camaraderie between humans and drones was slowly building, the initial tension easing as they worked toward a common goal.
One of the engineers leaned back with a smirk. "You know, it's nice working with machines that aren't trying to kill us for a change. Speaking of which—hey, remember that time Jason landed on that factory strider?"
The mention brought a chuckle from his peers.
"Oh, yeah! I saw the footage. He had to call for orbital support while dodging automatons swarming the place. Took out the strider, sure, but broke his leg in the process. Stims saved his ass."
V's curiosity piqued. "He landed on it? Was that planned?"
"Not exactly. The scanners pinpointed enemy activity, but they didn't specify where. He meant to land nearby but ended up on top of the thing. Typical Helldiver luck."
"And that wasn't even the craziest thing he's done," added another, struggling to contain his laughter. "Remember when he jumped onto a Terminids Charger? Pure insanity."
Their laughter quickly faded as the doors hissed open. Jason stepped in, his presence commanding immediate attention. The engineers straightened and hurriedly resumed their tasks.
"Something funny?" he asked, his gaze sharp.
"Nothing, sir," one replied with a nervous chuckle.
Jason dismissed them and turned to V as Uzi, Lizzy, Thad, and Rebecca followed him into the room.
"How's the progress?" Jason asked, his tone direct but not unkind. "Any incidents between the drones and the engineers?"
"None," V replied. "They've been working well together. The map is operational and should link with your ships shortly. It feels good to see this place come alive again. I used to work here with Anderson before he… passed." Her voice softened, and for a moment, her hardened demeanor faltered.
Lizzy scanned the room. "Strange seeing it like this. Last time I was here, it was pitch black and lifeless."
Jason approached the holographic map, now displaying Copper 9 in vivid detail. New data streamed in as microsatellites deployed in orbit updated the display. "Good. Once we're fully linked, we'll have advance warning of storms and other threats. That'll be critical for protecting your outposts and colonies."
V nodded. "Storms have always been a danger here. Some can freeze drones in place for days. It's rare, but it happens."
Uzi stepped closer, her wide optics studying the map. For the first time, she truly grasped the vastness of Copper 9. Her adventures with Doll, V, and the others had only scratched the surface.
"When are we heading back to Facility 7?" she asked, looking up at Jason.
"In a moment," he replied. "First, I need to send data to the other Helldivers. This place reminds me of Vog-Sojoth—a frozen wasteland of a planet. At least it's not Charbal-VII. I'd take snow over acid storms any day."
"Acid storms?" Rebecca echoed, her expression twisting with unease. "That sounds horrific."
"Helldivers deal with all kinds of hazards," an engineer interjected. "Meteor showers, acid storms, blizzards, ion storms, volcanoes, even fire tornadoes."
Jason visibly tensed at the last mention. "Don't ever bring up fire tornadoes," he muttered darkly. "I'll never set foot on that planet again."
V tilted her head. "Which planet?"
"Hellmire," Jason said grimly. "Terminids were bad enough, but fighting them while dodging flaming tornadoes? High Command can drag me there kicking and screaming—I'm not going willingly."
The room fell silent, the weight of his words settling over them. Then, with a deep breath, Jason turned back to the map.
"All right, let's get to work."
With those words, Jason started to send out data to the other Helldivers he met with at the entrench, and after that, it was his turn to head back to Facility 7. And see what was within it that the SEAF had discovered, and with luck it could lead them to the truth.
Edited thanks to ELE73CH.