Echoes of an Unknown World

Cold.

A familiar penetrating, artificial cold marked his awakening, as A1 stumbled out of the cry pod onto the deck of the pristine Super Destroyer.

His eyelids, glued shut by the cryo-sleep, twitched and pried open. Blurry shapes wavered in a haze of blue-tinted light.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, soldier." A voice, female and crisp, sliced through the fog. He blinked, focusing on the woman standing above him. Her uniform was impeccable, pristine gray with yellow patches contrasting against the utilitarian grays of the crew working on the Pelican below deck.

"Sir?" His own voice was a rusty croak.

"Ship Master Leahy," the woman said. "You'll need a few minutes to reintegrate. Once you're steady, report to the bridge. The Democracy Officer awaits you there."

Leahy.

She was the Ship Master of 'The Wings of Liberty'.

The pride of the fleet, state-of-the-art, top of the line Super Destroyer.

It was a marvel, the polished floors, the gleaming screens.

Orbital Tech that bordered genius.

"Sir?" Leahy prompted.

"Yes, Ship Master." He straightened with effort, feeling like a raw recruit again.

He moved stiffly up the deck, following the directional arrows, his awe fighting with a rising unease.

The bridge was cavernous.

Fellow Helldivers surrounded a vast holotable, its projected globe glowing with unfamiliar constellations.

As he entered, a man in a crisp uniform, the insignia of a Democracy Officer emblazoned on his chest, turned.

"Ah, our final guest. Welcome aboard, Helldiver." The Officer's smile was wide, welcoming. "You four have proven yourselves heroes time and again. Liberty owes you a great debt. The Automaton Invasion after Operation Swift Disassembly has been handled, and Cyberstan is secure once again. This was the triumph Super Earth needed."

Yes, they'd finally pushed the damn clankers back across the galactic rim.

The veteran Helldiver V3, the commander of the ship, 'Wings of Liberty' snapped a perfect Super Earth salute. His gold Super Citizen cape, a mark of valor that few outside special forces units earned, rustled with the motion.

"Sir!" A1's voice was like weathered steel. "Congratulations for the victory. Word of your exploits reached us even out here on the rim. Every Helldiver who secured Cyberstan is a hero."

He gestured to the holo table. "Victory feels good, doesn't it? Pushing those clankers back, spreading democracy another star system over? We should all be proud."

A flicker of warmth crossed A1's face as one of the other Helldivers, a lean woman he coded as F2, stepped in close, offering a quick, congratulatory hug.

The third, the stocky and scarred T4, gave a clipped Super Earth salute, his eyes fixed on V3, admiration clear in his eyes.

"It's good to be breathing, sir," A1 managed, his voice still rough.

"Damn right it is," V3 agreed.

Then, the Democracy Officer – Martin – cleared his throat. "While I commend the celebratory spirit, Helldivers, our mission is far from complete. High Command has issued new directives, directly to the 'Wings of Liberty'."

The temperature in the bridge shifted, a sudden chill replacing the warmth.

At a subtle gesture from Martin, the lights dimmed, and the holotable's constellations were replaced by a swirling, nebulous mass.

It shimmered and panned, heading beyond the rim midst the vast emptiness of the unknown regions.

A ripple of unease spread across the bridge as the nebulous image resolved itself.

Stars swirled and coalesced, a star chart slowly taking form. It was… familiar, yet twisted.

A distorted reflection of Super Earth's own galactic neighborhood.

"This," Officer Martin announced, his voice amplified across the now-hushed bridge, "Is where our probes have detected the signals. A system far beyond our established frontiers. Beyond anything we charted, even in the darkest hours of the Cyborg War."

The holotable flickered. Zooming into a particular star, it revealed a ring of planets—one, in particular, glowed with a familiar blue-green hue. F2 let out a low whistle, a sentiment echoed in the tightening of T4's jaw. This looked like home, but wasn't.

"Preliminary analysis shows something astonishing," Martin continued. "This world, though uncharted, mirrors Super Earth in striking ways. Atmospheric density, signs of liquid water, even a similar continental layout." His face hardened. "But the key is this – the signals we're detecting are Cyborg in origin. Old Cyborg tech, the same signature as the evil communist precursors the Automatons descended from once used."

A1's stomach twisted. That's why they brought us back, he realized. The Cyborgs

"High Command believes there's an external connection," The Officer revealed. "It's the only explanation for Cyborg technology showing up in an isolated system. The Automatons may have had contact, maybe even formed an alliance…and what remains out there could be even worse than what we faced before."

He raised a hand, silencing the sudden murmurs of protest. "That is precisely why the 'Wings of Liberty' has been commissioned for this. Our task force isn't just about recon. We'll establish a beachhead, scout the signal's source, and, if necessary, purge the threat."

The Officer's eyes fell on V3, standing resolute by the holotable. "Your squad will spearhead this incursion, Helldiver. You'll have all the firepower the armory can equip, plus reinforcements arriving within twenty-four hours. Super Earth is counting on you."

"Managed democracy and liberty are the light Super Earth brings to the darkest corners of the galaxy," V3's voice resonated through the bridge. "The cyborgs and their Automaton puppets were a plague once, a stain on everything we stand for. The threat will always linger–and we will always be ready to extinguish it."

His eyes, hard as the steel of his Las-16, swept over the assembled Helldivers.

A1 felt a jolt of pride, spine straightening as his own Super Earth salute snapped into place. The gleam of his visor reflected a determination that echoed in the tight jawline of F2 beside him, in the grim nod T4 gave.

"Then we waste no time," V3 declared, turning back to the holotable. His fingers danced over the controls, shifting the projections from the theoretical to the all-too-real. Coordinates of the system flashed into being accompanied by the stark designation: Sol Beta System, planet Terros.

A beat of silence hung in the air, then, the cool, feminine voice of the 'Wings of Liberty' herself responded: "Coordinates locked. Preparing for FTL jump to Sol Beta system."

The bridge lighting shifted, the blues and whites flickering into a chaotic red. A hum built, a vibration that seeped from the deck plating into the very bones of the Helldivers.

"Hold fast," V3 commanded, his words barely audible over the growing thrum. "We bring Super Earth's justice to a new world."

Then, the universe seemed to twist. The familiar starscape warped and stretched, dissolving into streaks of impossible color.

Time lost meaning, the FTL jump a disorienting rush.

And suddenly, with a lurch that sent a jolt through even the most seasoned veteran, the streaks resolved into a new tableau of stars.

"Sol Beta system," the ship's AI confirmed. "Arrival on target."

A1 staggered slightly as the jarring transition from FTL ended. His boots hit solid deck plating again, but his stomach still felt suspended in the warped space between the stars. Then, the sheer spectacle of it all hit him.

The bridge's vast viewport framed a world that should not exist. Terros hung in the blackness, a near-perfect mirror of Super Earth. Swirling blue oceans, lush green continents, even wisps of white clouds... it was uncanny. And yet, a wrongness prickled at him, a dissonance between what his eyes saw and what his Helldiver instincts screamed.

And there they were – the other flagships of the task force, hulking behemoths flanking the 'Wings of Liberty'.

His own 'Mother of Democracy' gleamed under the light of the planet's sun, followed by F2's 'Bringer of Family Values'.

T4's 'Grim Reaper of Liberty' flanked the flagship's other side.

"Helldivers!" Officer Martin's voice snapped them all to attention. "Prepare to make history. Scans indicate the Cyborg signal originates from that island mass," he gestured at the holotable, where a rugged, volcanic speck was highlighted, "surrounded by what seems to be a vast, inhospitable ocean. Anticipate elevated temperatures, but nothing beyond your training. Initial readings show an atmosphere breathable to humans."

Martin paused, allowing this information to sink in. "We have intercepted no transmissions other than the Cyborg signal. However, be vigilant. Automaton transmissions were intercepted to come to this planet. And..." he hesitated, "given the geological instability and the planet's life indicators, we cannot rule out a Bug presence. Element 710 deposits are a possibility. We do not have more information; our deep space satellites have not scoured this planet due to Spatial Interference. We should have a more clear picture of the planet's fauna when the rest of the fleet arrives, after this mission."

"Our secondary objective," Martin continued, "is of vital importance. Given the similarities to Super Earth, geological scans and soil samples are a priority. Element 710 could give us an unparalleled advantage."

V3, showing his experience as a veteran of Malevelon Creek, moved to the holotable with purpose.

A1, F2. and T4 flanked him, their hands working the controls in practiced unison.

The volcanic landmass zoomed in, marked as Ground Zero One, with smaller islands to the east and west designated Ground Zero Two and Three.

"Insertion point will be Ground Zero One," V3 declared. "It offers tactical advantages – high ground, likely vantage point over the source of the Cyborg signal. GZ-02 and GZ-03 appear barren, preliminary scans will follow."

The ship's AI's voice echoed through the bridge: "Hellpods are primed. Mission Coordinates Locked. All Helldivers, report to drop decks immediately. I repeat, Helldivers to Hellpods! All Helldivers to Hellpods!"

Democracy Officer Martin gave them one final, sharp salute. "For liberty! For freedom! For managed democracy! Fight with honor, Helldivers!"

"For Super Earth!" The responding chorus rang from every throat in the bridge.

It filled A1 with a surge of grim determination, the familiar mix of fear and unyielding loyalty that fueled every mission.

The Helldivers moved with deadly efficiency, a well-oiled machine gearing up for war.

The iconic skull insignia parted before him as he strode towards his designated pod, the gleaming hull of the 'Mother of Democracy' a comforting presence behind the clear glass of the front deck.

He locked in, the pod's clamps securing him with an audible hiss.

Nodding curtly to a tech who gave the final thumbs-up, A1 initiated his own systems check. Helmet seals, vitals, ammo readouts—all in the green. Comms crackled to life.

"...comms check, Liberty Squad." V3's voice cut through, steady as always.

"A1, ready," he responded.

"F2, all systems go." F2's report had a hint of eagerness, the anticipation of a new battleground clear in her voice.

"T4 here. Ready to spread managed democracy." T4, responded anticipation breaking through his stoic façade.

Their voices were a lifeline, a constant against the vast unknown they were about to plunge into. V3 selected a drop point, the holo-display swirling into a blurred map of their target, crosshairs locking onto a rugged ridge.

"Drop zone designated. Liberty Squad, prepare for launch."

The ship's AI responded, her tone crisp, "Hellpod launch initiated."

Then, the world exploded around him.

Not in fire and devastation, but in a blinding rush of light and acceleration.

He was hurled from the 'Wings of Liberty' like a bullet into the atmosphere of Terros.

The force pressed him back, the roar of entry a thunderclap against his eardrums.

For a heart-stopping moment, he was a fiery comet, a streak of righteous Super Earth fury blazing a path towards the alien world.

And then, with a thud he was buried deep in the soil of the planet.

"Liberty Squad to Super Destroyer," V3's voice broke through the chaos, the distortion of comms barely masking the adrenaline in his tone, "Helldive successful. All pods accounted for."

"Go now, and fear neither shadow of death, nor tyranny." Martin's voice responded through the comms "For justice is your cause. Show those clanker commies what's coming for them!"

A sharp hiss and a jolt signaled his pod's breaching of the surface. The release mechanism disengaged with a thunk, and A1 pushed up, emerging into a world painted in alien hues.

His first breath was hot, thick with the tang of sulfur. He blinked, adjusting to the dimness of the environment. Volcanic ash hung in the air like a perpetual twilight, obscuring all but the closest details.

Even the moon, eerily similar to Super Earth's, was merely a suggestion behind the oppressive veil.

Yet, life thrived here. Beneath the choking haze, flora twisted and sprouted in impossible colors. Glowing luminescence pulsed from flowers shaped like warped skulls, while towering, fern-like trees exuded a shimmering sap. It was beautiful...and deeply unsettling.

Nearby, the distinctive crack and thump heralded F2, V3, and T4 emerging from their own pods. A flicker of relief passed between them. At least the landing was successful, despite this disturbing paradise.

A1 wasted no time. His wrist-comm crackled to life and with practiced speed, he requested his stratagem drop – the AX/LAS-5 "Guard Dog" rover. the energy-powered drone would be magnificent for organic lifeforms should there be any, he couldn't see clanker presence yet.

He saw similar commands relayed by his squadmates – V3's defensive shield generator, T4's brutally powerful cannon, F2's autocannon turret...support tailored to their individual fighting styles.

"We'll begin heading to primary objective." V3's voice cut through the comms.

The map on A1's HUD flickered, sensors straining against the pervasive ash.

Still, the blips indicating the Cyborg signal and the ships' directions were clear.

As soon as the stratagems materialized with their signature flashes of light, V3 barked the order: "Liberty Squad, form up! We are heading for the signal's source! Cover the flanks, and watch out for enemy activity."

They fell into their familiar pattern, V3 leading, the rover scuttling beside A1, the rest spaced out in prime defensive formation.

The choking smoke made visibility treacherous, but with V3 guiding them, they plunged deeper into the volcanic forest, the glow of their helmets bobbing like vengeful fireflies seeking prey.

The forest was a symphony of muffled sounds – the crunch of boots on ash, the hiss of their breath cycling through the helmets' filters, the constant, almost comforting hum of the rover at A1's side.

The heat was building, a prickling sensation beneath his armor. Eerie silence settled upon them, smothering even the rustling of leaves.

"Movement," F2's voice broke the hush, tight with tension. "Three o'clock."

Instinct took over.

Rifles snapped up, sights trained on the indicated spot.

Yet, through the gloom and the haze, A1 could discern only shadows dancing within the twisted undergrowth.

"Guard Dog, recon the area." He keyed the command on his wrist interface.

The rover, a compact bundle of steel and servos, whirred obediently toward the spot F2 had indicated.

Its sensor suite gleamed, cutting through the ash.

A1 followed, cautiously stepping off the trail. The others hung back, providing cover, their sights locked on the canopy above.

Ten paces in, he started to call a false alarm…and then, his Guard Dog exploded into light.

Laser beams lanced into the foliage, answered by a chorus of high-pitched chitters.

A sharp sting pierced his boot, a fiery jolt of pain.

He glanced down.

A scavenger beetle, obsidian shell gleaming wickedly, clung to his leg. With a curse, he crushed the creature under his heel.

"BUGS!" He shouted as he unloaded his sidearm into the creature's skull.

His cry detonated the fragile silence into a whirlwind of chaos.

Without hesitation, his squadmates unleashed a barrage of firepower, a staccato rhythm of laser blasts and the guttural cough of F2's autocannon.

"A1, fall back!" V3's order was a sharp crackle in his ear. "Find a clearing. Now!"

The Guard Dog continued its desperate assault, but the bugs were swarming now, a chittering wave of glistening carapace. His instincts, honed on countless battlefields, screamed at him to retreat.

Adrenaline surged, pushing back the initial shock.

Turning, he sprinted back towards the rest of Liberty Squad. Behind him, the rover became a beacon of fire, a sacrificial distraction buying precious seconds. He heard F2 call out a target heading his way, and his rifle snapped up, spitting controlled bursts into the undergrowth. A warrior bug shrieked and collapsed, but more clambered into view.

V3's directions pulsed on his HUD, a beacon leading away from the suffocating forest. With a final glance back at the rover, succumbing to the insectoid tide, A1 surged forward, trusting his squad to have his back.

They broke through the tree line, gasping for air that was less choked with ash. V3's voice cut in again, "T4, sentry turret!"

Trusting his squad leader implicitly, A1 barely spared a glance as a flash of light marked T4's stratagem call. Instead, he whirled, rifle braced on one knee, and began laying down covering fire at the pursuing insectoids. His visor gleamed red as he targeted the lumbering forms struggling through the dense undergrowth.

Beside him, F2 swore viciously, the relentless chatter of her autocannon tearing into anything that dared show itself. The sudden shift in terrain favored them; the bugs were momentarily disorganized, their instinctive swarm tactics hampered by the open ground.

Then, T4's turret deployed with a metallic thud, its automated guns swiveling to join the onslaught. The clearing was transformed into a symphony of righteous destruction, Liberty Squad holding the line against the endless, alien tide.

"COME AND GET THE TASTE OF FREEDOM!" T4 screamed as he unloaded his Quazar Canon through the canopy covering anything that moved.

The firey onslaught lasted for several long minutes, as Liberty Squad fired at anything and everything that moved beyond the tree cover.

The insectoid onslaught finally began to falter. Splattered forms littered the edge of the clearing, and the air thrummed with the whine of ricocheting laser bolts. Still, A1 dared not relax, the adrenaline not yet fading from his veins.

"Cease fire," V3 ordered, his voice taut.

Silence fell, save for the crackle of cooling weapons and the distant, diminishing skittering of retreating bugs.

F2 let out a low whistle. "See anything?" she asked, her autocannon swiveling watchfully.

"Nothing for now," T4 grunted, a hint of grudging respect in his voice. "Those damn roaches can hide anywhere, though."

Suddenly, a whirring noise came from the canopy and they again aimed down sights at the tree cover ready to fire, but their fear subsided as A1's rover slowly stumbled through the forest cover, wobbling as it hovered toward A1, clearly smoking.

A1 cursed under his breath, as the drone reattached to the housing on his back for repair. "How the hell did they make it this far into the unknown regions? Do the Cyborgs have another cloning facility out here? Did they manage to tame the bugs?!" The unsettling question hung heavy in the smoky air.

The others exchanged uncertain glances.

Even V3 seemed at a loss, his usual stoicism replaced by a crease of thought between his brows. Then, with a decisive gesture, he refocused them.

"We'll leave the big questions for High Command. Right now…" He pointed towards the heart of what they'd assumed was a clearing. A1's breath caught.

This wasn't a clearing at all.

It was the edge of a ruined cityscape.

Toppled structures, eroded and overgrown, peeked through the dissipating ash.

It was a city of the dead, a haunting testament to a civilization swallowed by time and choked by the ever-present volcanic haze.

"Signal's just ahead," V3 confirmed. "Time to find out what those Cyborgs left behind."

The air hung heavy with a mix of fading cordite and an ancient, musty tang. The once-paved streets were mere suggestions now, shattered slabs covered in hardened magma flows and the tenacious creep of alien vegetation. Buildings lay in heaps of fractured stone, half-swallowed by the unforgiving landscape.

Yet, even in ruin, there was a sense of former order. Crumbling arches, remnants of grand boulevards, carved monoliths bearing inscrutable inscriptions... all spoke of a civilization now lost or irrevocably changed.

"Democracy Officer, come in," V3's voice, crisp and professional despite everything they'd witnessed, crackled through the comms. "Are you reading me?"

"Loud and clear, Liberty Squad. That's a clear picture you're sending." Martin's reply echoed from the distant 'Wings of Liberty'. "Evidence of a settlement...or a Cyborg outpost. This mission just got a hell of a lot more critical. Find that signal's source. And watch your backs – history's got a habit of biting back in places like these."

A1 felt the weight of that statement settle over him. Then, the familiar rhythm of the mission kicked in, a balm to the unease. They reformed, moving in practiced unison as V3 led them deeper into the ruins. Even amidst the decay, the blips on his HUD were reassuring, beacons guiding them towards the elusive signal.

With the immediate threat of Bugs pushed back, the tension began to ease a fraction.

"Never thought I'd be playing exterminator on a history field trip," F2 remarked, her voice wry.

"Just more proof that the universe has a twisted sense of humor," T4 rumbled. His usual stoicism had been shaken a bit, A1 noticed. Perhaps the sight of this dead city echoed too closely with their own bloody history.

"Beats Malevelon Creek though, any day," V3 responded. The memory of that brutal automaton campaign still sent a chill down his spine.

He then refocused their attention as a ping sounded on his HUD. "Signal's close. And scans indicate...hold on." His comms crackled briefly. "Secondary objective in sight. Composition of the igneous rock, presence of Element 710 – it's a strong possibility."

He motioned F2 forward. "Probe deployment, now."

F2 didn't need to be told twice. With a practiced flick of her wrist, she initiated the stratagem call. A moment later, the distinctive thud marked the probe's arrival. V3 quickly began priming the device, covering T4, who in turn, established a defensive perimeter with another flash of light and a deployed automated turret.

A1 moved to the side, pulling out his sampling kit. "Might as well make this a two-for-one expedition," he said, "These rocks have never been analyzed before. This could be a major scientific breakthrough for Super Earth."

The work was a welcome distraction. Just as the probe began sending its seismic pulse into the earth, a tremor rocked the ground. The squad staggered, swearing in unison.

"That wasn't the probe," V3 growled, his eyes trained on the distant haze-shrouded volcano.

Something glowed deep within the heart of the mountain, a fiery pulse that grew stronger with each passing second.

Then, the haze parted…and the air itself seemed to scream.

Three lumbering figures emerged, bile titans of immense size, their corrosive presence cutting through the volcanic atmosphere with terrifying ease.

V3's command was like a cold-water shock. "T4, F2, focus fire on those titans! Now!" There was no room for error, not with gargantuan abominations like those bearing down on them.

T4 swore, the Quasar Cannon whirring to life on his shoulder. A searing beam of light lanced out, striking one titan head-on. F2's autocannon stuttered into action, its relentless fire chewing into the thick chitinous hide of another. The bile titans roared in fury and pain, but kept advancing, their corrosive presence seeming to eat away at the very air around them.

A1 swore too, already relaying the orbital strike request. "Incoming barrage from 'Mother of Democracy'," he called out. A pinprick of light blossomed in the sky. He marked the coordinates, painting a target on the rapidly approaching beasts.

Then, another tremor, a rumble that set his teeth on edge. The chittering rose to a deafening crescendo.

"Bugs!" V3's voice cut through the chaos. "Scans show incoming swarm from the south. Too many to hold here." He gestured toward the crumbling structure to their left, a multilevel ruin with remnants of a once-grand staircase. "Get to High ground! I'll provide covering fire!"

T4 responded instantly. With a deafening boom, his stratagem materialized.

The 500kg bomb soared, arcing towards the source of the chittering just as the ground began to erupt. A tide of glistening insectoid forms poured forth, warriors and scavengers scrambling over each other in their eagerness to attack.

A1 could see it too. The 'Mother of Democracy' had begun her barrage, the orbital laser blasts carving burning wounds into the largest Bile Titan, yet it kept moving inexorably toward them. The other titans lumbered in its wake, and now there were the bugs to contend with, swarming, relentless.

He turned and sprinted for the ruin, rifle blazing suppressing fire.

V3 was right behind him, the others forming a shield between him and the encroaching chaos. Yet, for every bug they took down, ten more seemed to take its place. It was a lesson they'd learned on too many battlefields, too many planets lost and reclaimed in the name of Super Earth.

Just as he entered a broken-down ruin of a building, T4's tactical nuke went off, the loud defeaning roar preceding the blinding light and fiery heat that intensified the already scorching heat of the land they were in.

The ground trembled beneath their boots as T4's nuke detonated. The resulting blast wave was a scorching wind, a roar that drowned out even the insectoid shrieking. A split second of blinding light seared A1's retinas, even through his visor.

When his vision cleared, the swarm was in disarray.

Green covered broken bodies of the bugs littered the ground, a testament to the destructive power of Super Earth technology.

But the victory was short-lived. From the smoky haze, countless more bugs poured forth, their chitters rising to a fever pitch.

They took refuge in the shattered building, catching a breath as they scrambled onto the partially collapsed roof.

Below, the insectoid tide surged against the walls, claws scraping and clattering.

"The probe...it must have agitated something deep down," F2's voice carried a note of grim realization, the boom of her autocannon punctuated by the chittering horde below. "The volcano is the center of the swarm."

V3, his face a mask of calculated intensity under the ash-streaked helmet, surveyed the scene. "Signal's coming from the base of the volcano," he confirmed. "We stop this plague at its source, or not at all."

"How?" questioned A1, firing a controlled burst into the mass of bugs below. "Grenades won't cut it to seal a hive this size."

"Don't worry about that," T4 responded, a grim smile playing beneath his helm, as he waited for the quazar canon to recharge. "Eagle-1 will be resupplied by the time we make it to the volcano. Another nuke oughta shut 'em up for good."

A glimmer of hope – and a hint of dark humor. It was the Helldiver way: fight impossible odds with overwhelming firepower.

Then, a loud thumping sound rose from the distant line where the bile titans clashed with laser fire and concentrated blasts.

A titan had fallen, its immense bulk crashing through crumbling ruins.

But two still remained.

V3's voice tightened, snapping them back to the task at hand. "F2, target the titans' maws. When they open to spew bile, we might have a shot at taking out their vitals."

F2 nodded, a flicker of steely determination in her eyes. She hefted her autocannon, swiveling to focus on the lumbering abominations in the distance.

A1 moved to provide covering fire, his laser blasts carving fiery lines into the wave of bugs at their feet.

He saw the probe, blinking a silent green amidst the chaos: the upload was complete.

"The upload is complete!" He informed the squad, tossing a grenade between a large cluster of bugs headed to the opening of the building.

This was madness, a symphony of death and destruction on an alien world.

But it was their madness, the fight they were forged for.

He gritted his teeth.

A savage glee bubbled in A1's chest as the bile titans came within range of T4's sentry turret. The automated gun barked, spitting a torrent of fire that chipped and tore at the lumbering behemoth's chitin. It was the final nudge that sent these bio-engineered monstrosities into their death spiral.

One titan, its maw gaping wide to spew its deadly payload, presented the perfect target.

"Now!" V3's barked order cut through the deafening clash of fire and insectoid screams.

F2 was a blur, her autocannon roaring in answer. Rounds slammed into the titan's vulnerable maw, detonating within its grotesque form. With a final roar that shook the ruins, the bile sac exploded, showering the swarm below with corrosive liquid and showering the Helldivers in a toxic downpour.

The titan crashed, its immense bulk crushing countless insectoid forms as it toppled onto the ruins. But the second beast, its fury ignited by its fallen comrade, swung towards the sentry turret. T4 barely had time to bring his Quasar cannon to bear before the foul bile struck the sentry, melting the machine in a hiss of steam. A moment later though, his weapon spat forth its vengeful beam, searing straight into the remaining titan's own vulnerable bile sac.

The titan convulsed, a mountain of flesh and hate collapsing with ground-shaking force. For a moment, the only sound was the crackle of cooling chitin and the labored breath of Helldivers.

"Time to go," A1 shouted, activating his wrist-comm with a shaking hand. "Hellbomb incoming! We need to clear the area!"

V3 didn't argue.

He barked a retreat order, and A1 saw them leap, one by one, off the crumbling rooftop into the relative safety of the ruined street.

Heart pounding, he primed the hellbomb and followed, plunging into the fray below.

The swarm, leaderless and partially decimated, was less a cohesive force and more a tide of chittering rage.

They fell back, clearing a path for themselves with rifle blasts and expertly placed grenades.

The press of insectoid bodies was thinner here, closer to the volcano.

Yet, every step was a battle, every corner held the potential for ambush. And somewhere, beneath that smoldering mountain, the heart of this alien infestation waited.

One hellbomb wouldn't be enough – but it would sure as hell buy them time.

The hellbomb detonated with the fury of an unleashed star.

An all-consuming wave of light and heat. Super Earth's wrath distilled into a single, blinding eruption.

The swarm behind them screamed a collective death cry as the blast wave swept over them, leaving charred husks and smoking craters in its wake.

They fought onward, the echoes of the explosion chasing them as they plunged towards the smoldering heart of this alien world. The bugs, disoriented and disorganized, fell beneath their laser bursts.

Through the haze of ash and adrenaline, A1 caught fragments of chatter:

"Damn," F2 managed, her voice raspy as she aimed a precision shot at a warrior clawing its way out of the wreckage. "Wish I could call that in every day."

"Remind me why we're running from the good stuff?" T4 growled. His voice was laced with the same wild, exhilarated edge that thrummed through A1's own veins.

"Because," V3 shouted back, tossing a perfectly timed grenade at a cluster of scavengers, "Liberty Squad doesn't leave a job half-done. The source is up ahead. We finish this!"

"For freedom!" A familiar chorus filled the comms, a mix of A1's voice, T4's rumble, and F2's battle-cry. For the ones they'd lost in Bug Wars on countless worlds, for the ones they fought for back home.

A1 caught glimpses of the ruins as they pushed forward – skeletal structures etched against the fiery sky, a stark echo of the other settlement.

They reached the base of the volcano, the air almost unbearably hot, laced with the sulfuric stink of alien biology.

And there, wedged into the mountainside like the shard of a broken tooth, was a freaking castle.

"Are you seeing this?" T4 asked, as he gazed in the lull at the enormous castle wedged in the side of the mountain. "The fuck are clankers doing in a medieval ass castle?!"

"I don't know" A1 responded, as he too gazed at the enormous soot-covered monstrosity. "The shitty structure reeks of entitled over lordery though. Fucking commies think they're superior to everybody

else. Lets show them a taste of DEMOCRACY!"

"Hoorah! BROTHER!" His squad mates responded enthusiastically.

"Signal's strongest here," V3 confirmed, after a while, as they tentatively approached the looming his HUD a flickering testament to the Cyborg tech buried within.

The castle was a city in itself, a sprawling ruin carved from the volcanic rock, its grandeur humbled by time and violent upheaval.

Writing, strange and angular, was etched on the cracked stones, yet there was no sign of the teeming insectoid horde.

"Democracy Officer, come in," A1 said, the comm crackle unusually loud in the sudden stillness.

"Clear as a bell. Those are no Automaton markings, that's for sure. And I'm not seeing anything resembling Cyborg transmissions either, old or new." Martin's reply echoed from the distant 'Wings of Liberty'. "Whoever built this place...they're a mystery wrapped in an enigma tucked inside an extinction-level event."

V3's voice, crisp and focused, cut through the silence. "Time to solve that mystery. Liberty Squad, forward!"

Every building held the potential for ambush.

Every silent street was a battlefield waiting to happen.

Yet, the quiet felt more oppressive than the swarm, more fraught with the echo of a civilization whose fate hung in the balance.

While they moved, A1 knelt briefly, his sample kit coming out. He matched the sample with the upload they had just made to the super destroyer.

"Confirmed Element 710 in the igneous rock," he informed the squad. "Seems to be major offshore deposits nearby as well. Science Division is gonna love this."

They quickly made their way carefully through the desolate, smokey, soot laden and burnt streets of a city that would have once looked magnificent.

Medieval, but magnificent.

"You seein' this?" T4 repeated, awe edging out the usual scowl on his face, beneath his helm, at the sight of the monolithic castle. "Clankers in a medieval fortress? The hell kinda fantasy shite is that?"

"Entitlement and delusions of grandeur," A1 shot back, his gaze following the soot-stained molten castle walls upwards. "Commie bastards always think they're better than the rest of us – this is probably some kinda twisted echo of their old Earth tyranny." He spat into the ash. "Let's bring 'em a dose of reality – the Super Earth kind."

The others let out a chorus of agreement, their voices ringing with the familiar battle fervor that always flared brightest in the face of the unknown. Yet, as they approached the gates, it was V3 who brought them back to the task at hand.

"Focus," he ordered, helmet tilting to scan the peak behind the castle. "Signal's inside all right. But long as that hive's open…" His words trailed off, but the squad understood. One threat at a time – a cardinal Helldiver rule.

"Eagle-1, status update," he keyed in, his HUD flickering a connection request.

"Eagle-1 standing by, Liberty," a gruff voice crackled through their comms, "Re-armed and ready to rain hell."

A thoughtful crease appeared between V3's brows as he stared at the volcano's mouth. Finally, "500kg bomb gonna do the trick?"

"Or do we need a hellbomb for this one?" Doubt laced his typically unwavering tone, the enormity of the task seeping in even for a veteran like him.

F2 hesitated. "The swarm seems to have quieted," she observed. "Can we ...afford to blow this whole damn mountainside before heading in?"

"Sure as hell can," T4 retorted. "One well-placed bomb, and them roaches go back to bein' just that: roaches."

A1, ever the pragmatist, cut in. "Primary objective first," he said, already checking coordinates on his wrist comm. "We find what those Clankers were after, then we give 'em a proper send-off, Super Earth style. We can still hit those offshore Element 710 deposits on extraction."

A rumble of agreement echoed his suggestion. V3, after a final assessing look at the volcano, nodded in affirmation. "A1's right. Let's end this, Liberty. Castle first, mountain second."

The castle gates, massive slabs of cracked stone, swung open with a groan.

A1 caught glimpses of a ruined courtyard beyond, of towering walls pierced by crumbling lance windows.

This had once been a testament to the power of the Cyborgs, infested by those damned bugs.

The courtyard's vista was like a punch to the gut – the cyborgs had attempted to accurately mimic human feudal civilisations of ages past in their twisted desire to establish a communist regime.

F2 let out a low curse. "We thought those damn bugs were the worst, but it's always worse with the Clankers, ain't it?"

The ventured further in, sticking to the shadows of the castle grounds.

As they approached the base of the castle itself, a chilling sight greeted them.

A stark trail of crimson against the ancient stone stopped them cold.

It was fresh.

V3 crouched, his face grim. "Human blood…but something else…"

A1 knelt beside him, studying the pattern.

His fingers came away slick with a dark, oily substance coating his gloves. "Mixed with machine lubricant," he said, holding up his hand. "Automatons. We're not hunting bugs anymore."

The energy shifted instantly, the crackling tension replaced by cold, focused determination.

A1 retracted his Guard Dog – useless against metal. They moved like wraiths, V3 tracking the Cyborg signal that pulsed stronger with each step toward the towering keep.

The grotesque display at the gates was a tableau of calculated brutality - severed limbs and an unfinished assembly line for their metal brethren.

Fury surged through A1, a battle cry rising in his throat…but V3's swift gesture cut him off.

They fell into the shadows, a four-person hunter pack, their weapons silently poised.

A figure emerged, a hulking automaton dragging a struggling, captive form.

"Sweet Super-Earth," T4 breathed, a rare tremor in his voice.

The man wasn't a Helldiver.

He wore an old medieval Tunic, dark-haired, he writhed against the steel grip, his defiant shouts in some unknown tongue echoing through the ruins.

"Democracy Officer, come in," V3's voice was taut, edged with an urgency they all shared. "We've got a live one. Repeat, subject is human. Requesting updated orders."

The response was immediate. "Human?" Martin's uncharacteristic tone of shock reverberated over the comms. "Objective shift, Liberty Squad. Confirm clanker and cyborg presence, and secure any and all survivors. The source of Cyborg signal remains a priority. Plant a hellbomb in the heart of the castle on exit – it will blow up the mountain with it. The extraction point will be recalibrated to the castle courtyard."

"Affirmative, Democracy Officer," V3's voice was clipped and decisive, a leader recalibrating his team in the face of the unexpected. "A1 and I will secure entry, T4 and F2, you know your task."

"Got it, boss," T4 rumbled. There was a grim satisfaction in his tone. Destroying that automaton assembly line wasn't just tactical, it was personal.

A1 was already moving, a swift nod his only acknowledgment.

Righteous fury thrummed under his practiced composure, but fueling that fire was a stark question: how, in the vast unknown, was a living, breathing human here on this planet? What twisted game had the Cyborgs and clankers been playing on this twisted mockery of their home world?

Then, T4 struck.

His first shot echoed like thunder through the courtyard, shattering the automaton that held their unexpected captive. It dropped its burden, and red lights exploded across the castle complex, a dissonant siren call piercing the silence.

"Go!" V3 barked the order, and he and A1 sprinted towards the now-open keep.

Behind them, the courtyard erupted.

F2's autocannon stuttered into action, spitting fire.

Their sentries materialized in flashes of light, adding to the din of righteous destruction, covering their break for the castle.

They hurtled through the open gates, the clang of metal on stone a stark contrast to the near-silence of the interior moments later.

"Stick close, watch my six," V3's voice was low in A1's ear. "We don't know how many there are…"

The rest of his words were lost in a new wave of chaos.

Even through the fortified stone, they could hear F2 and T4 tearing apart the courtyard. Each explosion was a beacon of defiant hope, pushing them further into the unknown depths of this castle-turned fortress.

The interior was a maze of ancient corridors, lit by the eerie glow of the alarm system. They moved quickly, methodically, laser bursts cutting through the gloom as they searched room by room, as clankers poured out of the maze-like structure in squads and droves.

Each corridor, each echoing chamber was transformed into a crucible.

Clankers poured from the shadows, wave after wave of mindless metal soldiers. Their numbers would have been overwhelming for a lesser team, but Liberty Squad held firm. V3's energy rifle hissed with lethal efficiency, blasts of searing white light disintegrating automatons with a ruthless precision honed on countless battlefields. A1, back-to-back with his squad leader, returned fire with laser bursts calculated for maximum damage. They danced death with the metal horde, using every bit of crumbling cover to their advantage.

The shield generator strapped to V3's back flickered gold as it deflected incoming rounds, buying precious seconds.

There were no heavies, thankfully, just swarms of light infantry bots - still deadly, relentless, but manageable.

For now.

Cut off from stratagems, it was raw skill and firepower that would see them through.

A1's eyes darted, searching amidst the chaos. No sign of captives yet, but the pulse of the Cyborg signal thrummed stronger with every step. They were close...

A brief lull as they cleared another group of automatons. "We're here!" V3 called over the sudden silence, pointing towards an imposing archway in the heart of the great hall.

In its center, a terminal blinked with malevolent red light.

The source.

"Get on that, A1. I'll cover," V3 ordered, his tone brooking no argument.

"On it!" A1 darted forward, sliding behind the terminal as a fresh hail of automaton fire erupted.

His fingers flew over the unfamiliar interface.

Ancient Cyborg code, twisted and harsh, but nothing his Super Earth training hadn't prepped him for.

Hack.

Scan for virus.

Transmit.

"Code package on its way, Democracy Officer!" he shouted over the din.

A triumphant crackle on the comms. "Primary objective complete, Liberty Squad! Good work! Show these automaton menace the might of managed democracy! Secure those captives ASAP!" Martin's voice held a note of urgency that mirrored A1's own.

They brainstormed on the fly, gunfire their punctuation.

A1 muttered, "Castles have dungeons, right?"

"How the hell do you know so much about castles?" V3 grunted, the amusement evident even in the middle of the firefight.

A1 flushed slightly. "I.. I uhm.. after Operation Swift Disassembly...I spent my R&R time afterward with Lots of historical fantasy binging..."

A grin spread under V3's dust-streaked helmet. "Lead on then, dungeon master!"

The victory was short-lived. F2's voice cut through the comms with a new and terrifying urgency: "The ground's shaking! Those damned Bugs are back, and they're bringing the party!"

Gunfire punctuated her shouts, along with the unmistakable cacophony of chittering insectoid hordes.

V3 swore. "Any Bile titans?"

"Negative, but tons of chargers!" F2's reply was punctuated by the deafening roar of her autocannon. "The volcano's spitting 'em out by the hundreds! Those damn commies must've found a way to control 'em!"

T4's defiant roar cut through the chaos. "Commies and bugs – they deserve each other! Let 'em come, we'll show them a taste of real freedom!"

V3, ever the strategist, didn't miss a beat. "Call in Orbital support for them, I'm granting you access to my stratagems from the 'Wings of Liberty" he barked.

A1 also chimed in as he fired from cover down a narrow stair way at the clankers beneath, "The Mother of Democracy won't ignore your call either, F2. Time to rain hell from above."

The dungeons were a desperate gamble, but a logical one.

Where else to keep prisoners? Each step forward was a battle won, with V3's energy rifle blasting a swath of destruction through the relentless automatons.

A1, keeping pace, brought down targets his squad leader missed, covering their flanks with calculated bursts from his laser.

Yet, the sheer number of clankers was beginning to take its toll. Every magazine spent was one step closer to being overwhelmed. And now, the bugs were coming for their share…

Deeper they pushed, the vaulted stone ceilings dripping with centuries of moisture.

The air thickened, taking on a fetid scent of oil and blood that turned A1's stomach.

This was a place meant to hold despair, to break the human spirit. A testament to cruelty as twisted as the automatons that now violated it.

"Here!" V3's shout cut through A1's grim determination.

A heavy iron door, half-rusted, bars bent and twisted, lay at the end of a foul-smelling corridor.

A1 caught glimpses of movement within… and a flicker of something that made his blood run cold.

The sight that greeted them in the dungeon was both a sickening confirmation and a surge of desperate hope. Dozens of humans, men, women, some even children, were chained to the dank walls. Their eyes, wide with a mix of terror and desperation, were covered in crude metal blindfolds. Rusted automaton armor lay shattered around them, evidence of a meager resistance quickly and brutally crushed.

V3 didn't hesitate.

His energy rifle blazed, cutting down the automaton patrol before they could even raise an alarm. "A1, secure them!" he barked.

A1 was already in motion. Their captives numbered roughly thirty, a mix of hardened defiance and abject terror etched on their faces. He moved methodically, cutting the clanker-made bonds with calibrated bursts from his laser, all while keeping a close watch for more automatons.

"Evac en route," the Democracy Officer's voice crackled. "Pelicans squadron for captive evac inbound to the castle courtyard."

Then, F2 cut in, her usual confidence laced with a new edge of urgency. "Eyes on the sky, boys! Clankers got gunships inbound, and the volcano's cooking up bile titans for dessert!"

A1 glanced up as he unchained a man who screamed in terror, his eyes raw beneath the metal covering that had been removed. The language they spoke was foreign, any words of reassurance lost in the chaos.

V3, reading the situation with his veteran's intuition, switched tactics. Language barrier or not, these were terrified humans, not seasoned Helldivers.

He slammed his rifle against the dungeon wall, the sound echoing sharply off the stone. Then, he pointed at the destroyed automatons and fired a single, deafening shot into the ground. The flinch from his captives was immediate, the message brutally clear.

He gestured towards the exit, his tone leaving no room for argument.

The effect was surprising.

One figure, a woman with fire in her eyes despite her fear, spoke a rapid series of words in their strange tongue.

"Pōnta vestragon hae angels se gods jittan naejot rescue īlva!" She said.

A1 caught fragments, words echoing with despair and the faintest hint of…awe akin to worship in her gaze? Whatever she said, it seemed to calm the others.

Now, they moved with an urgency bordered by obedience. V3 and A1 herded their unexpected charges up the crumbling stairs, fighting tooth and nail against the onslaught of automatons. The castle was becoming a deathtrap, swarming with metal and chitin alike.

From the comms, T4's voice boomed. "Extraction for Liberty on the way! And those bugs and clankers can kiss my democracy-loving ass, 'cause that mountain's about to go BOOM!"

The hellbomb was armed, and the end was in sight.

They burst from the dungeon into the echoing expanse of the great hall, the roar of battle momentarily muffled by the ancient stone. Then, a sound like the world itself tearing open ripped through the air.

The captives screamed. Some fell to their knees, shouting desperately in their unknown tongue. A1 caught fragments: "Zaldrīzes," "Jore!"

V3 swore. "F2, status?!" he barked into the comms.

"Bugs got wings now!" F2's reply was a grim echo of the captives' fear. "Shriekers, and they're heading your way! Get your asses out of that castle!"

"Damn! Near;y there!" V3 shouted back, but the timing…it was cutting it close.

Then, the whine of engines split the air. From the carnage-strewn courtyard, the Pelicans rose, sleek silhouettes against the smoke-choked sky.

"Evac inbound, clear LZ!" bellowed a voice over the open comms.

A1 shoved open the gates, the sight that greeted him a tableau of utter devastation, a testament to the battle Liberty Squad had waged.

Clankers and bugs lay in twisted heaps.

A lone hellbomb stood silent sentinel over the ruined factory. And amidst the ash and ruin, their precious, bewildered captives stood huddled in abject terror.

The Pelicans swooped in.

One blasted an automaton gunship out of the sky, its fiery explosion painting the castle walls orange.

Another ripped a hole in the oncoming insectoid swarm, raining blackened chitin onto the courtyard.

V3 didn't need to be told twice. "Get on board!" he gestured frantically at their charges.

It transcended language, the desperate urgency, the promise of flight from the encroaching doom.

T4's voice, laced with grim satisfaction, echoed through the comms: "Helldivers, time to bounce. That mountain ain't gonna wait for no one."

He wasn't wrong. The captives hesitated at the sight of the foreign ships, their fear shifting to a new, bewildered wonder.

Then, the woman, the one with fire in her eyes, stepped forward. She pointed at the hovering Pelican, and the air crackled with her pronouncement. "Se Valyrīha gods emagon jittan divine zaldrīzoti syt īlva rescue!"

With a renewed fervor, the captives surged towards the Pelicans.

"F2, covering fire!" V3 ordered. "Buy 'em time, Pelican Squadron needs to get airborne!"

"Wilco!" F2's response was nearly lost in the staccato blasts of her autocannon.

T4, bless him, joined the defensive line, just as the last of the captives boarded the ramps of the shuttle.

The Pelican squadron, sans Pelican 1 were quick to make their assent to the safety of the super destroyers high above the stratosphere.

With a final, assessing look, V3 ordered the extraction. They scrambled up the Pelican ramp even as the last bile titan lumbered into the courtyard, behind it a massive winged creature also readied to spew its vile venomous substance at them.

T4, tossing a grenade as a parting gift, was a heartbeat behind them. "Evac complete! That there's one helluva boom waiting to happen…." he drawled as the ramp sealed shut.

From above, the scene unfolded in its horrifying grandeur.

Pelican 1 soared, carrying them to safety, as they watched with bated breaths as managed democracy left its mark on this planet for the very first time.

The hellbomb timer ticked away. Then, the volcano erupted, not in ash, but in the blinding, cleansing fire of Super Earth's fury.

The castle, the bugs, the automatons…all were consumed in a searing flash of righteous destruction.

As they hurtled towards the stratosphere, towards the waiting 'Wings of Liberty' and their own salvation, A1 couldn't help but look back. The world below, the world they had saved, was a swirling vortex of smoke and flame.

As Pelican 1 rose, a vessel of salvation in a sea of destruction, the Democracy Officer's voice finally cut through the comms. It was a strange mix of exhaustion, elation, and the ever-present undertone of the pragmatism that built Super Earth.

"Liberty Squad, mission accomplished. Outstanding work. You've not only neutralized a grave threat, but you've written a new chapter in the history books. The discovery of humans this far beyond the frontier raises more questions than it answers…yet your actions today have proven something vital. The torch of Super Earth, of managed democracy, burns bright even in the darkest corners of the galaxy. Today, you've brought that light to a forgotten world. Stand proud, Helldivers. Stand proud."

The extraction bay erupted in cheers. T4 let out a booming laugh. "Did you hear that, F2? We're history in the making!"

"Hell yeah!" F2 whooped, punching the air. "Just another day saving the universe for Super Earth!"

V3, though uncharacteristically quiet, had a glint in his eye that mirrored the energy of his squad. It had been one hell of a mission, the stakes higher, the victory harder won than perhaps any other in their storied careers.

A1 found his gaze drawn back to the fiery pyre below. It wouldn't bring back the fallen, or erase the horrors these people must have endured.

But it was a start, a promise.

Managed Democracy would come for this backward grotesque copy of their home planet through hell or highwater.

The Helldivers would make sure of it.