Defense, offense, mobility, and now this unexpected "trump card."
Rena had gone from an "anomalous node" that needed to be hidden with the utmost care.
To a threat with multiple tools at her disposal, capable of adapting to different battles and perhaps even giving the Sons of Medusa a "surprise."
And the fragile, bizarre "cooperation" between him and Cassius was also destined not to last.
The next conflict might no longer involve probing and compromise.
Lynn gazed out the window at the Hive City's eternal night, a cold, resolute light flickering in his eyes.
He had to start planning how to "repay" Cassius and the Sons of Medusa squad for their "care" of late.
To carry out his "party-wipe plan" against the Sons of Medusa, Lynn had to ensure that every detail was flawless.
These "tin cans" had logical analysis capabilities so exaggerated it was absurd.
Their brains, comparable to Cogitator arrays, could piece together the truth from battlefield fragments and sniff out conspiracies in the slightest anomalies.
The slightest carelessness, even just an illogical timing discrepancy or an encounter that was too coincidental, could bring the entire game crashing down in an instant.
And the price of that collapse would be the complete destruction of both him and Rena.
So Lynn began what might have been his craziest, yet most cautious, scheme since transmigrating.
He did not even dare record the ideas in his head in any form.
No encrypted documents on a Dataslate, no scrawled handwritten notes; he did not even dare carve symbolic marks into the wall with a dagger.
Because he knew Cassius was surely still "monitoring" him.
Behind that sergeant's dark blue eyes lay a cold logic processor and three hundred years of battlefield instincts.
Any unconventional act of recording information could become a discordant link in the chain of logic and trigger an alarm.
Every deduction, every calculation of variables, every tactical simulation could only be frantically worked through inside his own brain.
You really are a freak, senior... Lynn would sometimes silently grumble to himself as he rubbed his aching temples.
The feeling of being scrutinized constantly by a pair of invisible eyes was more nerve-racking than facing a Hormagaunt's bone blades.
But he had to adapt, and even use this constant state of "being monitored" as cover for his plan.
The most crucial point of the entire plan was that it had to happen while the Sons of Medusa were on a mission.
Preferably while they were facing some powerful enemy, with Rena launching a lethal surprise attack.
A head-on confrontation?
Lynn had run through it dozens of times in his mind.
Rena had indeed undergone a complete transformation.
Her modular purplish-red carapace could absorb heavy-weapons impacts, and her rending claws and biological plasma cannon were enough to threaten Power Armour.
Her wings granted her extraordinary mobility, not to mention that as-yet-unrevealed "trump card."
But even so, against Cassius's full-strength squad in a head-on fight, her chance of victory would never exceed 5%, even by Lynn's most optimistic estimate.
This was not him selling himself short.
The Sons of Medusa, especially this Clan Magara destroyer squad led by Cassius, were themselves war machines born for efficient slaughter.
Not only were they formidable individual fighters, but more importantly, their teamwork was as precise as interlocking gears.
And they had contingency plans and countermeasures for all kinds of extreme situations.
Who knew how many "hidden reserves" those tin cans, with their close ties to the Adeptus Mechanicus, carried around, courtesy of the old Mekboys on Mars?
So he first had to find a way to sound out Cassius before deciding what to do.
Speaking of what Cassius had inside him, Lynn was rather curious, ahem.
He hurriedly cut off his wandering thoughts and continued building his train of thought.
And most crucial of all was-"Cassius himself."
Lynn had never underestimated this bald sergeant.
Three Service Studs represented at least three hundred years of blood and fire, and that was more than a mere accumulation of time.
It also meant combat instincts, the art of command, and last-resort trump cards tempered through countless brushes with death.
Lynn even dared to "reasonably speculate" that, if it truly came down to a life-or-death struggle, there was more than a ninety percent chance this guy would "break his limits."
Entering phase two, or even phase three!
This was absolutely no "ordinary tin can" who could be dealt with easily.
So a surprise attack was practically the most crucial element of the entire plan.
With this core established, Lynn's thinking gradually became clearer.
To execute the mission perfectly, he set three "prerequisites" that had to be met simultaneously.
He would only choose to strike when all three conditions were met at once.
The first condition, and the most crucial one: it had to happen when the Sons of Medusa were facing a sufficiently powerful enemy.
"Powerful" here did not simply mean numbers, but a combination of "quality" and "degree of pressure."
Only when Cassius's squad was under sufficient pressure, their attention completely absorbed by the powerful enemy before them.
And the battle had reached fever pitch or even a stalemate, would the intervention of Rena, this "variable," produce the greatest effect and tactical value.
Just as when both sides of a scale were barely maintaining their balance, a tiny grain of sand might be enough to tip it over.
Lynn needed to find an opponent who could make the Sons of Medusa "get serious," or perhaps even "struggle."
This opponent had to be powerful enough to force Cassius to devote the vast majority of his attention and expend considerable ammunition and energy.
As for wiping out Cassius's squad outright?
That was absolutely impossible. After all, Lynn knew perfectly well how "shrewd" Cassius was.
He would never fight a battle he was not confident of winning.
The second condition: Lynn himself had to have a perfect alibi.
This condition seemed simple, but was actually subtle.
The reason was simple too: he feared that the "affection" brought about by the binding system would affect Cassius.
After all, "showing off in front of someone you have a thing with, causing your combat power to explode."
That sort of common galgame trope might be absurd in reality, but Lynn did not dare gamble on it.
All right, I'm getting sidetracked again.
Lynn swiftly slapped himself, forcing himself to stop thinking about that bald head and focus on refining his plan.
"Lynn must not be present" was actually based on the most practical tactical considerations.
If he were there, Cassius would definitely devote some of his attention to him.
And the chance of Cassius anticipating a surprise attack from Rena would increase out of nowhere.
That extra measure of vigilance might be the crucial move that decided victory or defeat.
If the plan succeeded, an alibi could also provide an extra safeguard against subsequent retaliation from the Sons of Medusa Chapter.
Keeping him from being the first person to have a gun pointed at him.
The third condition: there had to be an "opening" or "structural flaw" in their defenses.
For Rena's surprise attack to work, she would certainly have to pull something unexpected.
"Beep! Beep! Beep!"
A rapid, monotonous electronic alarm rudely interrupted his thoughts.
Lynn abruptly snapped out of his absorbed state and blinked in slight confusion, his gaze focusing on the cheap, rust-spotted alarm clock beside his bed.
Its hands pointed to the hour officially designated as "morning" in the Hive City.
It was time for him to go to "work."