One hour later.
Ding Xiu looked into the distance. He saw a wall of bodies, a silent, uncanny tide advancing at an unhurried yet unwavering pace toward the Defense Line they had only recently retaken, where a withdrawal was being hastily organized.
Through the smoke and dust, countless shambling figures were faintly visible. Their movements were stiff, yet their steps were uncannily synchronized, like puppets controlled by the same invisible thread.
"They're the mind-controlled Mortals."
Ding Xiu stood atop a blasted concrete barricade, his white-and-red armour like a lone banner beneath the dim yellow sky.
He had removed his Helmet and tucked it under his arm, letting the wind, laden with Smoke and the smell of blood, brush across his stern face.
His hawk-like eyes narrowed slightly as he surveyed the approaching "human tide" of captured soldiers and enslaved civilians.
There was no anger, no compassion, only cold assessment and confirmation.
The enemy was using the cheapest cannon fodder to slow their withdrawal, or even overwhelm it entirely.
"They're coming." His voice reached every squad member's comms calmly through his Power Armour's amplifier.
"Prepare to engage."
No sooner had he spoken than the controlled Mortals in the front ranks suddenly accelerated, their shambling gait becoming a stumbling sprint. Inhuman, rasping howls rose from their throats as they lunged forward, clawing at the air.
Just as the first controlled victim howled and hurled himself at the barricade, his fingers about to touch Ding Xiu's armour...
Shing!
A crescent of cold light suddenly flashed, accompanied by the distinctive low hum of an activating Disruption Force Field, as though space itself had been slightly torn.
Ding Xiu seemed merely to flick his arm. The elegantly curved Power Scimitar left a pale blue afterimage in the air.
There was no sound of impact, no