The Three Chiefs Gather at the Seventh Gate, Hela Throws Her Sword and Forces Monk Back
A three-meter-wide crack was torn in the concrete pavement surrounding the Seventh Gate.
Thick black diesel smoke billowed upwards from the ventilation shaft, turning the low-hanging lead-gray clouds a scorched yellow.
The monotonous wailing of air raid sirens echoed across the vast, open plains, piercing the eardrums.
Lynn carried the heavy radiation shielding lead box in one hand, stepping on the broken precast concrete slabs as he walked up the ramp leading to the gate.
Gwen Stacy lagged behind him by half a body length, her right hand tucked into the pocket of her tactical trench coat, her knuckles constantly pressed against the safety pin of the Specialized Silk- launching breechblock.
The two men's combat uniforms were covered in gray-black soot and mud, and their shoes were stuck with bits of frozen meat and engine oil from the cold chain warehouse.
The view from the top of the slope suddenly opened up.
Directly in front of the plain, two entire heavy mechanized infantry battalions had been deployed in a fan shape.
The diesel engines of twelve eight-wheeled Heavy Armor infantry fighting vehicles roared in a deep rumble, and the muzzles of their onboard chain guns were all lowered, pointing towards the exit of the ramp.
Behind the armored vehicles, hundreds of soldiers in gray body armor spread out in skirmish lines, their gun muzzles reflecting a cold, matte light.
Major General Monk, commander of the Third Defense Zone, stood on the footboard of a tracked command vehicle.
He wore a worn-out military green wool windproof cloak and clutched a pair of military infrared binoculars in his hand.
The telescope's lens was firmly locked onto the lead box in Lynn's hands.
"Halt, Director Lynn."
The car's high-powered loudspeaker emitted Monk's hoarse voice, tinged with the distinctive throatiness of someone who had been smoking cheap cigarettes for a long time.
"The underground freight tunnel in the Seventh Defense Zone was attacked by a vicious bomb, resulting in more than half of the military police company being killed or wounded."
"In accordance with Article 7 of the Emergency Martial Law of the Management Committee, the Defense Zone Command is now imposing absolute military control over the Seventh Gate."
"Put down your weapons and belongings, put your hands behind your head, and come down to undergo riot control inspection."
The messenger beside Monk raised his right hand, signaling for the gun to fire.
The ammunition feed mechanisms of the twelve chain guns simultaneously emitted a soft metallic clicking sound.
Gwen Stacy turned her head to the side, her gaze sweeping across the flank of the armored position.
There were no bunkers there, and the 200-meter-wide open firing range was filled with warning signs for anti-personnel fragmentation mines.
He had no intention of leaving any survivors.
Gwen Stacy spoke at a very flat pace, without the slightest fluctuation.
"The machine guns are loaded with high-explosive incendiary shells; a single salvo would incinerate men and their lead boxes into molten iron."
Lynn didn't stop walking; his leather boots rustled on the gravel.
He stopped at the edge of the white line, eighty paces from the armored position.
"Commander Monk."
Lynn's voice traveled through the draft at the gate, clearly reaching the ears of every soldier.
"Troop carrier No. 094 detonated in Cold Storage on the seventh basement level."
"The license plate belongs to the Military Police Special Service Battalion in the defense zone, and the detonation sequence uses the engineer frequency band within the defense zone."
"You've brought two battalions of armored troops to block the ventilation vents—are you investigating a case, or are you trying to cover up the theft from the armory?"
Monk's facial muscles twitched slightly.
He lowered his binoculars, his eyes filled with a sinister glint.
"Only the two of you came out alive."
"The physical evidence is in your hands; the investigation team will naturally verify the testimonies."
"As for whether the vehicle that exploded was property within the defense zone or hijacked by terrorists, I will submit a damage report to the Joint Conference."
Monk raised his right hand and slowly pressed it towards the holster at his waist.
"One last warning: Put down the lead box."
"Those who resist martial law will be killed without exception."
The messenger's battle flag was suddenly lowered.
The turret gears of the three armored vehicles in the center began to fine-tune their angles, and the whistling sound of the hydraulic pumps suddenly rose.
Just as the gunner was about to press the electric firing pedal...
Suddenly, without warning, a section of the thick, lead-gray clouds overhead collapsed.
A chilling, deathly airflow descended from mid-air, causing the burning fumes on the ground to suddenly slump downwards.
There was no sound of engines in the sky, nor any whooshing sound.
Only a massive shadow, composed entirely of jet-black crystals, fell vertically from a crack in the clouds.
Boom!
The Obsidian giant sword, over ten meters long, pierced the ground like divine punishment.
The sword tip struck precisely half a meter in front of the command vehicle Monk was riding in.
The violent kinetic energy spread rapidly through the permafrost, causing the entire 30-ton tracked command vehicle to be violently thrown backward, lifting half a meter off the ground.
The front bumper and winch shattered into pieces under the immense Impact, several track pins broke off, and flying steel fragments crackled against the armor plates.
Frozen earth and gravel cascaded down on Monk's windproof cloak like a torrential downpour.
The entire armored position fell into dead silence.
The roar of the diesel engine seemed to be drowned out by the shadow of the giant sword.
Several streaks of black light landed gracefully from high above.
Thirty guards, clad in heavy black armor and wearing raven-beak-shaped steel masks, silently dispersed, their movements perfectly synchronized.
They slammed their Gauss Long Halberd heavily into the ground, the alloy bases shattering the frozen soil, and the pneumatic locking mechanisms cocked in unison.
Black Crow Honor Guard Army.
The most elite direct subordinate suicide squad of the Stability Maintenance Office.
A tall, slender figure slowly emerged from the smoke and dust in the center of the Imperial Guard.
Hela wasn't wearing her usual clothes, but rather a tight-fitting scale armor covered in dark green patterns. Her dark green cloak trailed across the muddy wasteland, yet remained completely unstained.
Her long, black hair swayed slightly in the cold wind, and her pale face was expressionless.
Monk staggered off the swaying command vehicle's running boards, his hat falling to the side, a shard of gravel ricocheting from his forehead drawing blood.
His pupils contracted sharply as he stared at the massive sword, emanating an extremely cold black aura, stuck in front of the car.
"Director Hela..."
Monk wiped the blood from his face, forcibly suppressing the tremor in his voice.
"This is the Third Defense Zone's operational Defense Line. The Seventh Gate has just been attacked. I am acting in accordance with the Management Committee's regulations..."
"Step back."
Hela interrupted him.
Her voice wasn't loud, but it was hoarse with a metallic quality, yet it pierced through the noise of dozens of engines around her.
Monk swallowed hard and pointed at Lynn not far away:
"Director Hela, Director Lynn has taken core classified evidence out of the restricted area without authorization, which is against regulations..."
Hela slowly raised her eyelids, her deep-set eyes falling on Monk's face.
"I'll tell you to step back thirty paces."
Hela raised her right hand, which was clad in black armor and gloves, and gently hooked her index finger.
The Obsidian greatsword, nailed to the ground, emitted a crisp buzzing sound, disintegrated into countless tiny black shards of light, and re-gathered in her palm, transforming into a slender short sword about two fingers wide.
The sword's edge pointed diagonally at the ground, its edge gleaming with a ghostly green light.
"The Stability Maintenance Office has taken over this area."
Hela looked at Monk, her tone as flat as if she were reading out a list of items to be scrapped.
"If your armored vehicles don't shut off and reverse within three seconds, I'll cut your convoy into scrap metal and use it to fill the holes in the ventilation shafts."
The air seemed to have been sucked out in that instant.
The soldiers in the armored battalion had cold sweat seeping from their palms as they gripped their rifle handles.
No one in the entire Management Committee doubted the madwoman's methods.
The names of the high-ranking officers in the defense zone who died at her hands could fill an entire military court file.
Monk clenched his teeth, his molars making a slight clicking sound.
He glanced at the expressionless Black Crow Honor Guard behind Hela, then at Lynn looked calm and collected not far away.
He knew that all the methods he had laid out in the shadows were completely ineffective in the face of absolute violence.
"Reverse."
Monk squeezed out two words through gritted teeth.
The messenger, as if granted a pardon, waved the signal flag frantically.
The roaring armored convoy began clumsily shifting into reverse, its tracks crushing gravel as it slowly retreated.
The convoy finally turned off its engines after retreating a full thirty paces, leaving only plumes of pungent exhaust fumes drifting away in the cold wind.
Hela ignored the retreating Monk tribe.
She turned around, her boots crunching on the broken ice, and walked step by step up the slope.
Gwen Stacy stood beside Lynn, her muscles subtly tensing, the Silk sensors in her palms glowing faintly.
The oppressive feeling emanating from Hela was far more deadly than that of Monk's two armored battalions.
Hela stopped three steps away from Lynn.
She was extremely tall, looking down at the man before her.
Her gaze first swept over Lynn's slightly charred collar, then slowly moved down to rest on the lead box Lynn was carrying in his right hand.
A faint, barely perceptible glimmer of energy emanated from the cracks in the lead box.
A deep, unfathomable scrutiny flashed in Hela's eyes, and a faint green light shimmered deep within her pupils, as if confirming some long-lost presence.
"You run pretty fast."
Hela's thin lips parted slightly, her voice revealing neither joy nor anger.
"You turned the entire defense zone upside down, and now I have to clean up your mess."
Lynn met her gaze without backing away or looking away.
He gripped the handle of the lead box tightly, his tone calm:
"They contain eight sets of off-book assets that leaked from the Department of Technology."
Upon hearing this, Hela's lips curled into a cold and meaningful smile.
"Off-balance-sheet assets?"
She extended a finger covered with nail plates and gently placed it on the cold metal shell of the lead box.
The moment their fingertips touched, a faint Death Energy seeped into the keyhole like a fine thread.
However, before Hela could fully explore the energy within the box...
From deep within the charred wreckage of the troop transport vehicle behind the slope, a strange sound of boiling liquid suddenly emanated.
In the ruins of the fire that had already been extinguished, a viscous, dark red glow, like blood, was silently spreading along the torn ventilation duct.