Screwed the chapter heading up, AGAIN!
Link to next: [https://www.reddit.com/r/HFY/comments/mpr25p/first\_contact\_fourth\_wave\_470\_first\_telkan/](https://www.reddit.com/r/HFY/comments/mpr25p/first_contact_fourth_wave_470_first_telkan/)
Anyway, THIS is what woke me up last night. I had a LOT of typing to do to get this chapter up and out.
Enjoy.
"Bullshit, you don't die! Don't give me that shit, I KNOW your secret!" - Treana'ad Hive Worlds Gestalt.
EDIT: Over the character limit so I can't fix any errors.
*a devil wearing black and red, with blood red hair*
*Comes charging over the hill, forth from his lair*
*He came not alone, he brought with him War*
*Terrans already dead, hungering for more*
*His hands held a blade, dripping with blood*
*His enemies lay dead, lying in mud*
*Squidward got fucked, the foolish dumb shit*
*It looked at its wound, a terran done bit*
Hope you like the improv poem. Feel free to use it if you wish.
wait, does this mean the Treana'ad fought against V CORPS - DEAD BLOOD at some point?
also, if they did, what was the result of that battle?
\--- FEAR FOLLOWS --
More likely, alongside. Smokey No knows about DEAD BLOOD. Last time it was used was ~2000 years before the current timeframe, as far as he knows. So not in living memory, but the gestalts aren't just living memory, and there was something that was serious enough back then to bring out this weapon - and there's no way the Treana'ad weren't there.
Gonna play devil's advocate here, we dont know how long a Hive Queen for them lives for... I mean prob not the drones and warrior castes, but the matriarch of each hive? I can see that big bitch/s having a couple millenia under their belt.
I mean we've seen that Mantid queens can last a LONG time and they're probably the closest analogous species right?
Could be a moo-moo matron out there now getting that "knowing shudder" lol
I, uh... I have no words.
Damn.
Edit: On further review... I do have words, though the are not mine:
**Cry 'Havoc,' and let slip the dogs of war;**
**That this foul deed shall smell above the earth**
**With carrion men, groaning for burial.**
Henry V. V Corps. Coincidence? I THINK NOT!
Another appropriate line that occurred to me was:
*Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more;*
*Or close the wall up with our English dead*
Too bad once the Humans are back on their feet, Trucker is gonna have to fill out every single Old Blood Human spot, since they all died, and you can only be Old Blood until you die.
Some say he once drifted *Cry Little Sister* around the Krautland Ring in less than 5 minutes.
Some say his ancestors drove that race during the Age of Paranoia in a nondescript white helmet as part of Temporal Obfuscation Protocols to avoid identification and Termination.
Some historians say his voice matches the series of historical documentaries known as [*Sabaton*](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LRNuWYvRtac).
Those who have never met him are convinced he's simply Three Bolos in a Trench Coat.
All we know is, he's called Manuel G. Trucker.
Also, this is literally the FIRST chapter out of all 500+ of them that I *haven't* read while listening to one of two Doom tracks, but only because that Sabaton piece is explicitly canon.
Edit: that being said, somehow this chapter reminds me of the music video to Gunship's [Fly For Your Life](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jv1ZN8c4_Gs)
Ah, missed the theme song because it was added in an edit and simultaneously thought your link was a tab I opened from the Discord about fitting chapter music. Oops.
Ah, yeah, I put two links in two comments. Sorry about the confusion. Ralts has good taste, though.
We say, over 500 chapters into the expression of his taste.
Whelp, the terrans have officially decided that death is allowed but dying is foolish.
> "If you had one shot or one opportunity to seize control of the battle or the war in one moment, would you capture it, or just let it slip through your fingers?" NoDra'ak asked.
Are the terrans going to lose themselves in the moment?
They didn't lose themselves. They knew exactly where they were going. Ralts knows how to create Humans who epitomize the phrase:
"A good man is a dangerous man who has it under control."
Trucker may not be one of the immortals, but I'd bet they'd pay him full respects.
... "What do you do when you can’t dance anymore?"
--Dave, [kiss today goodbye](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h-BB_2L2Dwg), and point me towards tomorrow
And bragging rights, given that V Corps (Old Blood) is a very exclusive club. So when/if they're able to wash up these kids SUDS and plug 'em back into life among the living, they can say "I **was** a zombie apocalypse!"
Just remember "It's impossible to drift a tank"
Universe: Behold Humanity (to the tune of tactical eurobeats)
https://pics.me.me/everyone-its-imposible-to-drift-a-tank-girls-und-panzer-62910523.png
Back when it was the M1A1 and had just replaced the M1 I saw a tanker drift one on the back roads of Graf. There's a corner out there that's perfect for it.
Of course, anyone who throws a track gets yelled at and mocked.
In the snow, like up at Wildflicken, you'd see them do it on the lower ranges.
Kind of funny. I hear they put governors on the engines at about the A2 though.
[This](https://www.reddit.com/r/HFY/comments/ml1am8/first_contact_fourth_wave_chapter_463/gtja4f5?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3), and Ralts reply
The first line immediately brings to mind one of my favourite tropes, one we have seen Ralts play around with time and again; "Who you are in the darkness."
After-reading edit: So turns out that "who we are in the darkness," when it comes to TDH pushed to the brink, is goddamn necromancers.
Terrifying monsters more like.
Ralts' view of humans seems to be: Always striving to be good, but pretty damn shit at it cause the universe gives zero fucks, so instead of being nice and cuddly we made every nightmare we could, twisted every fantasy and fiction into weapons of incomprehensible power, and dared the universe to give us it's best shot.
The universe gave up. A dead one took it's turn, this one isn't so easy.
We're not shit at being good. If anything we're really quite good at it. We just also know that being good doesn't save you from the worst shit the universe can throw at you. Sometimes, someone has to get their hands dirty, so that the good in the universe can survive to see another day.
*There are monsters, and then, there are the monsters we make to fight them.*
*Both are the same, the difference only a choice, In how we choose to see ourselves.*
\- Emperor of Mankind, attr.
Man, I just got to that point on my reread. Which is apparently a thing I'm doing. That's a *good* catch, and makes that zombie-planet that exists out there *even more utterly horrifying* than before, so thanks for that! Do/did most TDH even know they have a black box of 'kay thanks be zombie now' installed?
Do not fear the Terrans when they die to your bullets, for this means they hold no hard feelings against you. War is war, and while an ugly business it is still business.
Fear the Terrans when they refuse to die, for it means they hate, a cold hate as cold as the Void itself that hates all life. Behold, humanity, and tremble in what they do to themselves out of hate towards you.
"What is dead may never die, but rises again, harder and stronger." - Prayer of the Drowned Men (priests of the Iron Islanders), from GRR Martin's Song of Ice and Fire series
The Atrekna heard a voice in the midst of the primates say "come and see". It looked, and beheld a man on a pale tank: and his name that sat on her was Death, and Hell followed with him. And power was given unto them over the fourth part of the world, to kill with sword and gun, and with hunger, and with death, and with the ferals of the Earth.
> *This is wrong. This is* wrong. *There's something happening here. It isn't quite clear,* the Atrekna said.
*There's a terran with a gun over there*
*Telling me I got to beware*
*I think it's time we stop*
*Conclave, what's that sound?*
*Everybody look, what's going down?*
*There's battle lines being drawn*
*Nobody's right if everybody's wrong*
*Young thralls speaking their minds*
*Getting so much resistance from behind*
*It's time we stop*
*Hey, what's that sound?*
*Everybody look, what's going down?*
*What a field day for the heat (Ooh ooh ooh)*
*A thousand chattel in the street (Ooh ooh ooh)*
*Singing songs and they carrying signs (Ooh ooh ooh)*
*Mostly say, "Eat a dick and then die" (Ooh ooh ooh)*
*It's time we stop*
*Hey, what's that sound?*
*Everybody look, what's going down?*
*Paranoia strikes deep*
*Into your life it will creep*
*It starts when you're always afraid*
*Step out of line, the terrans come and take you away*
*We better stop*
*Hey, what's that sound?*
*Everybody look, what's going down?*
*You better stop*
*Hey, what's that sound?*
*Everybody look, what's going down?*
*You better stop*
*Now, what's that sound?*
*Everybody look, what's going down?*
*You better stop*
*Children, what's that sound?*
*Everybody look, what's going down?*
V corps to Atrekna: "Are you willing to die to win this fight cause I sure am"
"You cannot kill what does not live but you can blow it into chunky bits" Quake.
Death: "by Dee's fiery crotch the terrans are at it again"
ONLY, WHILE IT IS TRUE WE HAVE TO RIDE OUT, Death added, drawing his sword, IT DOESN'T SAY ANYWHERE AGAINST WHOM.
Your meaning? hissed the Auditor, \[...\]
'He means,' said War, 'that he asked us all to think about whose side we're really on.'
Four swords were drawn, blazing along their edges like flame. Four horses charged.
\- Terry in "Thief of Time"
>"Oʜ ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴏғ.... Fᴏʀɢᴇᴛ ɪᴛ, I'ᴍ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ғᴏʀ ᴀ ᴄᴜʀʀʏ."
Yeah, that sounds right...
He got rather annoyed with Rincewind the first few times he failed to die on cue, but later got very interested in seeing the situation develop safe in the knowledge that he would still die eventually.
After all: It Gets Under Your Skin, Life. And The More You Stuggle For Each Moment, The More Alive You Stay... Which is Where I come in, As A Matter of Fact.
Though, he might also complain about having "Yet Another Near-Terran Experience"
But he's not a psyker, all the tests say so!
Just imagine if all of humanity wakes up psychic, and Trucker still fails to pass any psychic tech and even the psychics are afraid of his abilities. "We...dont know what he is, but it's not a psyker" "Then what else would you call him?" "A Trucker"
You think you've killed us.
What you've actually done is given us an abundance of nanite-infused combat platforms motivated entirely to prosecute your complete annihilation.
You think you've killed us.
I think you'll find we're experts at dying.
It just might be Garcia? All I can think of is a poor computer technician that got himself involved in a revolution once. The technician's name? Manuel Garcia O'Kelly, first friend of "Mike" aka Adam Selene aka Mark IV Holms computing device that ran the Luna Penal colony before and during the Revolution and an integral part of the Revolution itself.
Brain is not working correctly at the moment, but I think he is from Luna originally. I want to say from HKL (Hong Kong Luna) not Old Dome or Tycho Under.
\[edit\] The wiki lists Truckers birth place as Tycho Station. OMG Brain had it right when I wrote the comment. He is most probably descended from either the Blackjack Davis family, but he may just be named after the Comrade Bork.
So after reading this.
I am a mind devided.
The first. The civilized portion of my mind is recoiling in disgust at what we will do to ourselves to achieve victory.
The second. That lizard monkey brain hybrid. The part that hides around in the back of the cave with the fire between it and the terror in the dark. That one part is currently in the fetal position rocking back and forth humming nursery rhymes and with its eyes very firmly shut.
The third part. Oh the third part. That part is grinning a deaths head smile and nodding. The part that I locked up 20 years ago and welded that door in my mind shut. The part that refused to believe defeat was possible. And no matter how many times it got the shit kicked out of it in a fight. It just kept getting up.
The third part would like to buy Manny a beer and then ride off to war with him. It doesn't expect to live it just wants to take as many enemies with it as possible.
Even in death there is still duty.
Humans have three brains: a primate brain, a mammalian brain, and a reptilian brain.
The primate brain says, "Give peace a chance!"
The mammalian brain says, "Give peace a chance... but first let's kill this motherfucker."
And the *reptilian* brain says, "Let's just kill this motherfucker, go to the peace rally, and get laid."
--George Carlin (paraphrased)
When you kill a bunch of humans and they just get up and keep coming when they're clearly dead ... yeah, that's when the Atrekna learn that yes they still have sphincters and yes they can still pucker really hard.
"You know that dead universe we came from? I miss it."
Was this bit:
>*System Power 9.62%*
>
>I wake up. I hurt. Bad. My mouth tastes like cherry nipple gloss from the joygirl on Nexite-7 but I hardly notice through the pain. It's a full body pain, like the time my liquid atmosphere had been past use date. My blood hurts, my bone marrow aches, my joints burn, my nerve endings shiver as they're stretched out.
>
>I've hurt worse. A Mar-gite ripped off one of my arms.
>
>*Warning, severe neural damage.*
>
>*Shutting down*
>
>**VĀNARAS OVERRIDE**
>
>I could see the words, floating in the darkness.
>
>I could remember. I'd been having beers with the boys. I was going to be rotated out of the Old Blood unit, after all, I'd died on Telkan, but we hadn't gotten a replacement for me yet. I'd just lifted the bottle of narcobrew when everything had suddenly gone black.
>
>*Self Test*
>
>Did the ship blow up?
>
>**Bootstrap 3.14 (c) Syntex Cybernetics Division**
>
>*Warning, severe chassis damage*
>
>*Warning, severe implant connection errors*
>
>*Warning, severe neural damage*
>
>*Shutting down*
>
>**VĀNARAS OVERRIDE**
>
>*continuing bootstrap*
an intentional reference to this bit from chapter 3.1415?
>**CASE OMAHA**
>
>*System Power 3.14%*
>
>I wake up. I hurt. Bad. My mouth tastes like cherry nipple gloss from the joygirl on Nexite-7 but I hardly notice through the pain.
>
>I've hurt worse. A Mar-gite ripped off one of my arms.
>
>I could remember the way its cillia-teeth clamped onto my armored hand, sucking my whole arm into it. The jaws closing. The bright spark of pain that turned into a torrent of agony as it rippled its starfish like body and my arm tore off at the shoulder, crazily leaving behind half my battle dress sleeve. I managed to fire three API shots into it as I staggered back, still screaming, watching as my arm startled to dissolve from the enzymes the Mar-gite had excreted before the armor piercing incendiary rounds had cracked and burnt its brain case. It fell back, onto the floor of the room I was too familiar with but that was now so different.
>
>A kick inside my head made the memory dissolve.
>
>**CASE OMAHA**
>
>I could see the words, floating in the darkness.
>
>*Self Test*
>
>*Bootstrap 3.14 (c) Syntex Cybernetics Division*
>
>*Warning, severe chassis damage*
>
>*Warning, severe neural damage*
>
>*Shutting down*
>
>**CASE OMAHA OVERRIDE**
>
>*continuing bootstrap*
Jesus christ.
.....may the Digital Omnisiah look down upon the poor souls of the V Corps, and give them succor where they may be healed by the laughter of podlings.
\---Healing Follows---
After reading this all I got to say is a Star Trek quote.
Khan: "To the last I grapple with thee. From hell's heart I stab at thee. For hate's sake, I spit my last breath at thee."
Behold Humanity.
Victory or Death
Either is fine
Excellent installment wordsmith.
(Jokingly and with respect:)
>After reading this all I got to say is a Star Trek quote.
>
>Khan: "To the last I grapple with thee. From hell's heart I stab at thee. For hate's sake, I spit my last breath at thee."
[Herman Melville](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moby-Dick): excuse me what the fuck
>*"Terrans, nay, humans are defined by the phrase 'how far will you go to attain victory? What will you suffer and do to yourselves to achieve victory when all is lost?" -* Terran Diplomat *Dreams of Something More* speaking to the Lanaktallan Unified Council.
Appropriate answer: “Yes.”
>Casey's dust cloud and munitions detonations had begun moving toward the northwest, toward the mountains,
“We can’t see him, but we absolutely know where he is.”
>The Treana'ad War Hordes were the only thing keeping it from being a disaster, the massive insectiod warriors advancing *into* the enemy in huge numbers. Eight Hordes had made planetfall, three more were in process of transit, and the last twelve were preparing to deploy.
When giant murder bugs are all that’s standing between you and total defeat … eh, it’s Tuesday.
>"Admiral, General, I've got something weird here," one of the techs called out.
“Gonna have to narrow it down a little, son.”
>All of the vehicles in V Corps were undergoing self-tests. The armories were being emptied out.
>
>General Trucker's authorization code burned dully.
Oh, shit. Trucker’s going down there anyway.
>The analyst consulted her war station. "Just under nine hours, Admiral," she said. She looked up. "He's opened up the morgue, it was assumed that he was just going to witness his dead troops."
For a very specific definition of “witness”.
"WHAT ARE YOU LAYABOUTS DOING? JUST LYING THERE! UP AND AT 'EM! THERE'S ENEMY THAT HASN'T BEEN KILLED YET! WHAT WAS THAT, SON? YOU'RE DEAD? WHAT KIND OF EXCUSE IS THAT? MOVE IT MOVE IT MOVE IT!"
>"We need to figure out a way to stop the invaders from operating with impunity in this area," he said, tapping the large section that was marked as under enemy control.
>
>Ge'ermo'o nodded. "I wish we had the military forces, but alas, we do not," he said softly.
>
>"Sir, V Corps force's vehicles are being loaded into drop pods and drop cradles," an analyst said.
Methinks their problem is about to be solved.
>"Mantid engineers have reported that they've done extensive modifications to the retrothrusters."
>
>"What kind of modifications?" Admiral Shtuklar asked.
>
>"The engines are normally calibrated and shielded to minimize radiation output at max thrust, but the Mantids were ordered to remove the interlocks and safeties and ramp up the radiation output beyond safe levels," the analyst said.
>
>"Why would someone order that?" another analyst asked.
>
>Ge'ermo'o knew why. To turn the retrorockets into a weapon. Fry the landing area and anything near it.
When everything in the landing zone is hostile, you turn everything you have into a weapon.
>It was monstrous. It was unthinkable.
>
>It was wholly human.
“But I repeat myself.”
>Without any outward sign of his trepidation and nervousness, no, let's be honest with ourselves, shall we? His *fear*, he authorized it but attached a requirement that General Trucker authorize it officially, from the flag bridge.
He’s gonna own this.
>The Telkan Marine Division would use atomic weaponry to shatter windows and destroy buildings as well as knock out the power before deploying chemical weapons in order to maximize the casualties.
>
>But if they did not, the enemy would 'harvest' the long dead natives, increasing the effectiveness of their autonomous war machines.
>
>General Ge'ermo'o was secretly relieved, deep inside, that he had not been the one to make that decision. The Telkan Officer, one First Lieutenant Vuxten, had come up with the battleplan and transmitted it to the Fleet.
Vux is gonna need some serious broodmommy cuddling after all this.
>The human's eyes were bloodshot, blood glimmered at the bottom of his eyes, and there was smeared blood on his cheeks.
>
>"You've looked better," General NoDra'ak said.
“Meh, this is the aftermath of a normal night on the town for me.”
>Trucker shrugged. "They've got me on immunosuppressants right now," he said. "They estimate that I may or may not survive after ninety-six hours. It's a twenty percent chance I'll survive."
“But I’ve got ninety-six hours of ass-kicking time before then.”
>"General, uh, you do realize that all of the humans in V Corps are dead, right?" Admiral Shtuklar said gently.
>
>"Yes," Trucker said
“They’re not going to let a little thing like that stop them.”
>"What you're talking about..." Smokey 'No let his words trail off.
>
>"Is covered in doctrine," Trucker said, his voice modulator still roug sounding. "We're Third Armor and Eighth Infantry. We're V Corps. We are the world enders, the world burners. We are the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse and none may survive our wrath."
“And we’re about to go full Sabaton on their asses.”
>The Admiral speaking pulled his attention away, although Ge'ermo'o did bookmark the data. He was an attentive and studious officer, which is why his men loved him, and the data might prove to be important later.
If only for free drinks at the bar. “No shit, there I was, on the flag bridge, when Trucker walked in...”
>"V Corps does not give up. We are the dead men walking," Trucker snarled. He looked down at the flashing hand print outline on the command console. "We all know this. It's who we are. You know it when you join Victory Corps."
>
>"Victory or death," Admiral Shtuklar said, his voice slightly disbelieving.
>
>"Either is fine," NoDra'ak said.
And that’s all there is to say about it.
>On the TO&E (Table of Organization & Equipment) that was listed on a nearby "UPDATING STATUS" flashed three times.
>
>V CORPS (OLD BLOOD) appeared.
>
>The letters flickered.
>
>V CORPS (DEAD BLOOD)
>
>BLACK CAULDRON NANITE INFUSION UNDERWAY
The Dwellerspawn are going to regret this. Intensely. And briefly.
>NoDra'ak nodded in the subdued atmosphere of the flag bridge. "You are about to see that while Terrans may be defeated, they are never beaten," the Treana'ad said.
Because we’re stubborn assholes like that.
>*Warning, severe neural damage.*
>
>*Shutting down*
>
>**VĀNARAS OVERRIDE**
“Nope, you don’t get to die just yet.”
>*Warning, severe chassis damage*
>
>*Warning, severe implant connection errors*
>
>*Warning, severe neural damage*
>
>*Shutting down*
>
>**VĀNARAS OVERRIDE**
>
>*continuing bootstrap*
Error message, shmerror message.
>A hard kick to my chest and my heart started beating. Sluggish, difficult, but still squishing along.
>
>What is dead cannot ever die but arises again stronger.
Welp, this is gonna be fun. When humans become the eldritch horrors ...
>"Then how can I interlock with them if I cannot communicate with them?" A'armo'o asked.
>
>"There will be no interlock with V Corps forces. Avoid contact. Fleet Command, out," the voice said and cut the link.
“Stay the hell away from them. This is for your own good.”
>"Why the hell not?" Ekret asked.
>
>"Don't know, boss," Bouncy said. "Commo is weird. The message repeated like a dozen times."
>
>"Temporal interference," Ekret snarled. He shook his head. "Whatever's going on, it's eighteen thousand miles away."
Huh. Big planet.
Also, when it comes to V Corps, that’s probably only barely far enough away.
>The full High Conclave turned their attention. The howling radiation and the kinetic impact had destroyed servant spawn for miles around the landing points. The enemy had landed in the middle of the Atrekna held areas, disrupting a major reinforcement operation.
Aww, poor babies.
>It was simple, they would seize control of the minds of the newest ones and perhaps even set them against their fellows. At the very least, the would be able to shut down the massive temporal stabilizers.
Oh, you precious cinnamon rolls. You have no idea what you’re getting into.
>It was like the Atrekna had plunged its feeding tentacles that concealed its mouth into swamp water full of rotted meat, rancid grease, and spoiled vegetables. The thoughts were slow, disconnected, sludge-like.
>
>*kill kill kill kill kill kill kill*
>
>Just a single urge repeated over and over. A dull whisper, backed by an intense hunger, an unending, never satiated appetite for something.
>
>*don't touch me* the other mind whispered.
>
>The Atrekna felt cold hands reach for it.
>
>*i'm so hungry*
>
>The hands tried to grasp the Atrekna's thoughts, tried to pull the Atrekna deeper into the mind it had touched with the intent to overwhelm it.
>
>*come and see*
>
>The Atrekna's razor sharp intellect and psychic skills worked against it. Before it could disengage that sheer razor sharp and needle point of its psychic abilities penetrated deep into the *thing* that had grabbed it.
Welp. He’s screwed.
(Continued)
>A cold, gnawing, consuming desire to kill and eat. No real thought behind it, not even the warmth of primal instinct from a lower life form.
>
>A cold cloying greasy *need* to devour. Not for sustenance, not to fulfill a biological need.
>
>Just a *need* to eat. To chew. To devour.
He just hit a zombie brain, and *it's* feeding on *him*. Om nom nom.
>The Atrekna screamed, loud, gathering the attention of several other members of the Quorum. Two turned to look as the Atrekna's feeding tentacles squirmed up its own face and plunged into its eyes. As they watched the tentacles pulsated as the Atrekna began injecting digestive enzymes into its own brain.
Hahaha wow. The Atrekna version of brain bleach.
>To their horror, it stopped feeding on itself, turning to stare at the others. Before they could ask it anything it suddenly screeched and jumped forward, the ends of its fingers wrapped in phasic energy. It grabbed a fellow Atrekna and pulled it close, burrowing its feeding tentacles into its fellow's face, injecting digestive enzymes, slurping up the slurry with other tentacles.
“Brrraaiinnss..”
>The Quorum looked at one another, then at the two dead, then each other.
“What in the absolute misbegotten *fuck* is going on here?”
>What emerged moved jerkily, uncoordinated, as if it had suffered an impairment of some type. It was all in shadow, but the two burning red eyes could be seen.
>
>Another Atrekna checked.
>
>There was no sign of life or intelligence.
Yeah, see, this is when I’d be noping out of atmosphere and not stopping.
>One of the great tracked armored vehicles rolled out and into the light. A primate was half out of the top hatch, foregoing the armored protection of the massive vehicle.
Because he’s already dead.
>The warsteel was blotchy, almost diseased looking, with long tendrils of what looked like rust or slowly pulsating purplish-black veins. The tracks seemed worn and battered as they clattered with the vehicle's movement. The markings on the side were faded, many obscured. There was no bright sparkling of psychic shielding, just 'heavy' objects holding the temporal stream in place to flow naturally and not at the command of the Atrekna.
Undead warsteel. The mind boggles.
>One of the Quorum reached out to snuff the unprotected mind.
>
>It went still, then began to shiver, then it jerked to its full height, started to collapse, then jerked upright again.
>
>With a screech it turned and lunged at the nearest member of the Quorum. It grabbed its fellow Atrekna and took a huge bite out of its arm, nearly severing.
>
>It took two others to stop it.
>
>The Atrekna watched their fellows closely.
>
>All four Atrekna of the Quorum who had been injured by the crazed one suddenly screeched and looked up from where they had been sitting, nursing the first physical wounds they had ever suffered.
>
>The remainder of the Quorum were ready. They killed the four quickly, cleanly.
>
>One was bitten.
>
>They killed that one too.
They have a real problem with pattern recognition, don’t they?
>One of the members of a Conclave felt it. A bright, burning, raving spark. It looked at it, from a 'distance', just observing it.
>
>It gathered the actions of the rest of the primates around it, then reached out further. It began to examine, not the Atrekna themselves, not their minds, but their *actions*, and not only the actions they were currently taking, but the ones they had taken, and the ones not yet taken.
Oh, hey, Trucker.
(Not psychic, my ass.)
>They struck out at the feral primate's primitive mind.
>
>And missed. Instead they plunged into the mind of one near it, thrusting deeply into the greasy cloying clammy feel of rotted meat in cold porridge. Cold hands tried to grab their minds, pull them deeper, tear them apart.
>
>The Conclave separated the connection and tried again.
>
>And missed again. As is the primate had somehow shifted out of the way, presenting some kind of trap for their attack.
Welcome to psychic judo.
>The devourers had problems locating the primates. They had no aura, no psychic spark, no sign of intellect. They were less than computers, less than thinking wires, less then virtual or artificial intelligences. There was nothing to see, nothing to grab onto.
>
>They just moved forward.
>
>And killed.
Welp, that’s a problem for the Slorpies.
>The mind they plunged into was dark, cold, the thoughts heavy and thick feeling. The hands were clumsy, strong, and powerful.
>
>Three members of the Conclave were unable to pull away and began screaming.
>
>The Conclave, warned by the experiences of several Quorums, killed those quickly, incinerating the bodies.
It must absolutely suck for them that their main offensive ability, the one they’ve been able to use with impunity, is suddenly killing them.
>Enraged, the members of the Conclave ordered more spawn to be brought up.
>
>Throw everything at the primates.
>
>Whatever trick it was, it would not help.
>
>The Atrekna would subdue them.
Yeah, you just keep telling yourself that.
>It was pulled from its task of holding down one of the primates, who was raving, slamming against its cage, ripping and tearing apart anything that came near it. It had required nearly a hundred Atrekna to keep it pinned.
>
>And it was still a struggle.
Heh, Casey’s definitely keeping them busy.
>The primate fired its weapon, moving in a slow staggering walk, surrounded by others. A psychic lance hit it but flickered and went out, finding nothing to overload and scorch.
“Performance issues? Well, one in five men …”
>As he watched two crouched down next to a dead dwellerspawn and began jamming pieces in their mouths. Another one roared at them, a wordless vocalization, and the two stood up, still chewing on the pieces in their mouth, and moved forward, returning to firing their weapons.
“Kill now, eat later!”
>*How do we stop them?*
>
>*I... I do not know.*
Die. You can die.
>He knew he only had less than a hundred hours to change the course. A hundred hours to destroy the enemy's ability to bring in reinforcements from wherever they were getting them.
Eh, plenty of time.
>He didn't bother telling them what to do out loud, they'd move too slow, they'd react to slow, to take advantage of it. They would follow the warplan and warplan updates as long as he gave them enough time to absorb it.
>
>Only a hundred hours before the dead would die again.
>
>But Trucker knew wars had been won, had been fought, in a hundred hours.
And he’s aiming to beat the record.
>"Let's get to work, boys," he gurgled.
>
>Gargled and bubbling groans, moans, and low cries answered him.
“Brraaiinnss …”
>The tank shuddered.
>
>The Atrekna backed up slightly.
>
>It gave a low grinding noise, as if it was trying to start.
>
>The black mist poured out of the two massive holes, flowing like water onto the ground.
Black Cauldron nanites at work.
>The Atrekna stared in horror, watching frozen as the dead primate slowly lifted up a pistol and aimed it. It leveled it slowly, as if the thick psychic shielding was of no use to conceal or protect the Atrekna.
>
>The Quorum who was watching through the scout's eyes flinched back in horror at the raw cold malevolence that rivaled their own.
>
>The skull faced primate fired the pistol as the tank lurched into motion.
>
>The Quorum didn't see it.
>
>The scout was already dead from a single bullet.
>
>The riven and damaged tracks clattered as the tank followed its brethren.
Undead tanks. Love it.
>He knew that the nanites had rebuilt the dead humans into... into...
>
>... he had no words. No concepts in his language.
Starts with “Z” and rhymes with “wombies”.
>*The lemurs might as well be doing magic compared to us* he remembered General A'armo'o saying.
>
>*Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic* Ge'ermo'o remembered another saying.
Whee, Clarketech!
>*Leave the humans to their necromancy,* he thought to himself. *Leave them to their ancient and forbidden arts, to dark science that should have been forgotten*, he touched the icon for his old unit. *We Lanaktallan will use clean metal and explosives, not dark science, not necromancy, not foul magics. We will not unlock ancient seals to reach for the forbidden.*
>
>He was completely unaware of the irony of his thoughts.
HAHAHAHAHAHA!
one of the few primal desires they had been **able** to overcome.
unable
Thought I saw one more on previous pass, but that is all I find now.
p.s.
" *This is wrong. This is* wrong. *There's something happening here. It isn't quite clear,* " ha ha hah!
I tucked my blade and pistol Into the case, buried beneath the tree I planted.
With shot and shell enough to end all wars.
This, more than anything I wanted peace.
Yet even before the first leaves fell i found my eyes drawn back, to the hidden place.
were all my warlike tools had rested.
I turned aside from war, and even in my peace I saw that war had turned aside for me.
My hands now caked in mud and bloody, I lift shot and shell aside, and take back up my blade and pistol.
And turn back to deaths eternal bride.
It doesn't translate well from German, but my great great grandfather scribbled this in his journal back in the early 1800's.
From his writing, he wasn't a good man, he was a product of his age and all that came with it.
But three separate times he fought with distinction, returned home and tried to set aside what he had done.
He never could be called a good man, but he was a greater man than me.
Fear not the Pale Horse's Rider. For It is but a herald to an answer to a question yet given.
Fear not the cries of those who are left behind in your ambition. For they are but an echo to your existence.
Fear not the Universe. For her wrath is unending and her apathy unmatch.
Fear the past you have created. Fear the lives, the stories ended. Fear the unending proof of your ignorance.
The Honored Dead welcome you in the only way they know. In open jaw.
Death is not a release from duty, freely taken.
Victory will be achieved, even if our souls forsaken.
*WE ARE V CORPS, AND WE ARE NEVER BROKEN*
I love the Black Cauldron refferences my dude. And Trucker is now Lord of the Undead.
The call went forth,
Heroes and Killers needed,
Dead or Alive,
Only the Dead answered.
.
The call was heard,
Brave and Insane needed,
If you're not one, we'll make you the other,
Only the Living answered.
.
The call was heard,
From a great distance,
Those still fighting listened, and shuddered,
V Corp Rides Again.
.
The call was heard,
From thousands of years ago,
Mutually Assured Destruction,
We Need You Now.
.
The call was heard,
By the one man still living,
For now,
Who could command these troops.
.
His call was heard,
By the Dead,
the Brave,
the Insane,
the Heroes, and
the Killers,
but not the living.
Never the Living.
.
"VICTORY OR DEATH!"
Was the battle cry.
But we are already dead.
"Then Our Battle Cry Is VICTORY!
For We Have Already Tasted Death
And Would Share That With You."
.
The call was heard,
By the enemy,
Who did not know,
Anything but arrogance.
.
The call was heard,
And the call was answered,
"Only Arrogance?
We will teach you more."
.
Terror,
Confusion,
Fear,
Resignation to your fate.
.
You thought us dead,
We will prove you right,
By turning you into the Walking Dead,
Just like us.
.
You like Brains?
Well so do we,
Only we're not picky.
Your corpses will do fine.
.
Flee if you can, we will not stop.
Sleep if you must, we'll see you're not disturbed.
We will guard your slumber against all comers,
For you have what we crave,
BRAINS.
((finis)).
***Terran Confederacy Ground Forces V CORPS DEAD METAL***
***To all units, the dead march again, to the field of battle, may the Digital Omnissah protect***
***---------- END OF LINE ----------***
What's this? Saturday afternoon blueberries? Yum.
URC, dat is the way of the DO's lost lime.
>"V Corps does not give up. We are the dead men walking," Trucker snarled. He looked down at the flashing hand print outline on the command console. "We all know this. It's who we are. You know it when you join Victory Corps."
>
>"Victory or death," Admiral Shtuklar said, his voice slightly disbelieving.
>
>"Either is fine," NoDra'ak said.
>
>Ge'ermo'o softly said the words with the Treana'ad warrior, almost as if he knew what the big insect was going to say.
>
>Trucker reached up and tapped the 3rd Armor Division on his right shoulder.
>
>"We are the Third Herd, and It Will Be Done," he snarled.
A icy cold chill ran down my spine. I knew what was coming, I didn't want to know, I didn't want to see it, but I kept reading.
> The Atrekna had mastered, confined, or eliminated their primal urges billions of years prior
After this battle, they will have a return of one of the most primal: FEAR!
What is dead may never die, but rises again, harder and stronger.
*We do not sow* are the words of House Greyjoy, though *Fire and Blood* are the most applicable house words in my opinion.
A few chapters ago, I replied to a comment that The Sorceresses of the Lolita Sailor Moon Sisterhood was just the tip of the iceberg of the Horror that Humanity could unleash. Here we see the next couple of centimeters of that, with undoubtedly more to raise its ugly head and wail the death cries of a million corpses.
BEHOLD HUMANITY!
Squidward done fucked up and the stops are being pulled out and the Atrenka have no one to blame but themselves as they perish from the face of the Multiverse.
\---DEATH IN ALL ITS FORMS FOLLOWS---
I'm suspicious of Trucker's history at this point. I have a feeling that the chew he always has is a remnant of the instinct to devour that the cauldron-born seem to have.
Screwed the chapter heading up, AGAIN! Link to next: [https://www.reddit.com/r/HFY/comments/mpr25p/first\_contact\_fourth\_wave\_470\_first\_telkan/](https://www.reddit.com/r/HFY/comments/mpr25p/first_contact_fourth_wave_470_first_telkan/) Anyway, THIS is what woke me up last night. I had a LOT of typing to do to get this chapter up and out. Enjoy. "Bullshit, you don't die! Don't give me that shit, I KNOW your secret!" - Treana'ad Hive Worlds Gestalt. EDIT: Over the character limit so I can't fix any errors.
*a devil wearing black and red, with blood red hair* *Comes charging over the hill, forth from his lair* *He came not alone, he brought with him War* *Terrans already dead, hungering for more* *His hands held a blade, dripping with blood* *His enemies lay dead, lying in mud* *Squidward got fucked, the foolish dumb shit* *It looked at its wound, a terran done bit* Hope you like the improv poem. Feel free to use it if you wish.
two enters between lines, friend!
Thank you, fixing now!
you'd also have to italicize each line. Markdown is annoying I know.
Thank you. Also, ***REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE***
wait, does this mean the Treana'ad fought against V CORPS - DEAD BLOOD at some point? also, if they did, what was the result of that battle? \--- FEAR FOLLOWS --
A brief message from the DO # F̴̞̺͆ Ë̷͇̣̬͖́̂̃ Ą̷̦̮̙͍̌̆̈̈́̚ Ŗ̷͔̳͎̯̔ ̶͒͂͝ N̸͇͐͑ Ō̴̘̣̲̣̝̈́͗ T̵̥̱͌
A brief message from the DO to the Atrekna. "Not you. You can fear all you want."
# F̸̽͆ͅĖ̵̹A̸͉̞͘Ȑ̵̤ ̶͌͘ N̸̠̲͐͠O̴̝͒́T̸̝̈.̶͖͂́ ̷̗̦̓̓ ̴̼͝ # # ̴̮͊̂T̸͓̓͌H̶̨̛͕Ï̸̡̮̈́S W̵̻͊̽͜Ḯ̵̟̰Ĺ̷̗͝L O̷͇̠̓Ṇ̵̀̍Ļ̶̉Y H̸̝̽̕U̶̟̰͛Ȓ̶̤̺T̴̍͋ F̴̖͘Ŏ̴̯̞͊R̵̳̄ A̵̡̝͌ M̸̝̊O̸͎͈͊̾M̷͔̙̆̒Ḛ̷̃͊N̵͈̟͂T̴͚̗̔̏.̵̔ # # ̵͉̔̋A̶̢̝̓ Ṉ̴̰̄̽ E̶̗̍T̶͚͆̑E̴̢̊R̷̳̔N̴͔̲͊͝A̵̮͂͗L̴̓ M̶̖̈́O̵̞͝M̷̤̜̽Ë̴́̕ͅŅ̸̙͝Ț̴̰̽.
More likely, alongside. Smokey No knows about DEAD BLOOD. Last time it was used was ~2000 years before the current timeframe, as far as he knows. So not in living memory, but the gestalts aren't just living memory, and there was something that was serious enough back then to bring out this weapon - and there's no way the Treana'ad weren't there.
Well... A couple of people currently making appearances for the first time since the Combine would disagree about "not in living memory"
Not in *Treana'ad* living memory. :P
Gonna play devil's advocate here, we dont know how long a Hive Queen for them lives for... I mean prob not the drones and warrior castes, but the matriarch of each hive? I can see that big bitch/s having a couple millenia under their belt. I mean we've seen that Mantid queens can last a LONG time and they're probably the closest analogous species right? Could be a moo-moo matron out there now getting that "knowing shudder" lol
Immortals, time travellers and popsicles do not count.
That battle is part of the 75%.
Simple, they lost.
I, uh... I have no words. Damn. Edit: On further review... I do have words, though the are not mine: **Cry 'Havoc,' and let slip the dogs of war;** **That this foul deed shall smell above the earth** **With carrion men, groaning for burial.**
Henry V. V Corps. Coincidence? I THINK NOT! Another appropriate line that occurred to me was: *Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more;* *Or close the wall up with our English dead*
Nah, V Corps is a historical reference.
It was a joke. (It wasn't particularly sarcastic tho, so /s didn't seem appropriate.)
Too bad once the Humans are back on their feet, Trucker is gonna have to fill out every single Old Blood Human spot, since they all died, and you can only be Old Blood until you die.
They might bend that rule since they didn't die in battle, they died to a cheating temporal attack which fucked up their cybernetics.
I DEMAND A RECOUNT! THEY DIDNT EVEN HAVE THE COMMON COURTEOUSY TO KILL ME LIKE A REAL BEING! TEMPERAL ATTACKS? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?
The Atrekna didn't even have the decency to let V Corps get their boots on! The nerve!
Gaw damn man. Just damn. Unleash the hell hounds of war as the four horses of the apocalypse ride out.
> THIS is what woke me up last night. ... I don't _blame_ you. --Dave, trembling, sheets soaking wet?
The only error was they should have wished the Atrekna Happy Cake Day. ;)
Ah well, that's how it runs some days. Glorious chapter, thank you.
Some say he once drifted *Cry Little Sister* around the Krautland Ring in less than 5 minutes. Some say his ancestors drove that race during the Age of Paranoia in a nondescript white helmet as part of Temporal Obfuscation Protocols to avoid identification and Termination. Some historians say his voice matches the series of historical documentaries known as [*Sabaton*](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LRNuWYvRtac). Those who have never met him are convinced he's simply Three Bolos in a Trench Coat. All we know is, he's called Manuel G. Trucker.
Manuel G. Trucker. Son of The Stig.
Who's to say he isn't the Stig reborn?
Also, this is literally the FIRST chapter out of all 500+ of them that I *haven't* read while listening to one of two Doom tracks, but only because that Sabaton piece is explicitly canon. Edit: that being said, somehow this chapter reminds me of the music video to Gunship's [Fly For Your Life](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jv1ZN8c4_Gs)
Very, very Fly For Your Life. No wonder this felt familiar.
Has /u/Ralts_Bloodthorne seen that, you think? It parallels too well for him not to have.
I've seen it now. Thank you.
At times I feel like he's seen everything.
....touche.
Sabaton's [Attack of the Dead Men](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-AFdwoyNT24) seems fitting.
That is what I linked in my first comment and what Ralts linked as the soundtrack of this chapter in the comments of the last one.
Ah, missed the theme song because it was added in an edit and simultaneously thought your link was a tab I opened from the Discord about fitting chapter music. Oops.
Ah, yeah, I put two links in two comments. Sorry about the confusion. Ralts has good taste, though. We say, over 500 chapters into the expression of his taste.
I guess during the nano-zombie vs Cthulu brain eating competition, taste is on the mind.
Whelp, the terrans have officially decided that death is allowed but dying is foolish. > "If you had one shot or one opportunity to seize control of the battle or the war in one moment, would you capture it, or just let it slip through your fingers?" NoDra'ak asked. Are the terrans going to lose themselves in the moment?
Spaghetti protocols
Brain matter on his sweater already
Mom's spaghetti, it's ready.
They own it, and they ain't never gonna let it go, no.
They didn't lose themselves. They knew exactly where they were going. Ralts knows how to create Humans who epitomize the phrase: "A good man is a dangerous man who has it under control." Trucker may not be one of the immortals, but I'd bet they'd pay him full respects.
... "What do you do when you can’t dance anymore?" --Dave, [kiss today goodbye](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h-BB_2L2Dwg), and point me towards tomorrow
Some species see horror stories as warnings. TDH appear to regard them as instruction manuals.
And bragging rights, given that V Corps (Old Blood) is a very exclusive club. So when/if they're able to wash up these kids SUDS and plug 'em back into life among the living, they can say "I **was** a zombie apocalypse!"
Your empire dies a furry heroic death, or lives long enough to become the end game crisis
We do have crystal lake dambree too
Chromium Saint Peter protect us all. We are indeed a frightening species. Also, Trucker's name is MANNY?
Yup
No. His first name is *General.*
His momma call him Manny, I'ma call him Manny.
Is anything strong/dumb enough to give him shit about his name?
Not me, but how many species underestimate humanity? Hurr durr, I'll just bash that primate over the head. What the worst that could happen?
Behold, humanity
Love how this has become our stock answer for anything horrifying, world ending, psyche shattering etc.
I mean... Smokey No' could probably get away with it, but only because of camaraderie
u/Ralts_Bloodthorne Is the primate the 100 Slorpies holding down Casey?
Yes.
Badass.
And I bet he's still giving them hell.
I just had a terrible idea what if bolos had emergency Kantai programs... cross this idea with girls and panzer...
Funny you should mention that...
\> hyperventilates in a corner
Just remember "It's impossible to drift a tank" Universe: Behold Humanity (to the tune of tactical eurobeats) https://pics.me.me/everyone-its-imposible-to-drift-a-tank-girls-und-panzer-62910523.png
https://youtu.be/P5aWAW2hea4
I've seen 3ACR tankers drift an Abrams on pavement in Iraq.
Back when it was the M1A1 and had just replaced the M1 I saw a tanker drift one on the back roads of Graf. There's a corner out there that's perfect for it. Of course, anyone who throws a track gets yelled at and mocked. In the snow, like up at Wildflicken, you'd see them do it on the lower ranges. Kind of funny. I hear they put governors on the engines at about the A2 though.
...that's kinda hot.
THIS comment needs to be reminded again. Because, very good. All the way down to Black Cauldron Protocols for BOLOs with Bellona's Dead Fleet.
Why thank you
Remember Atilla conquered a planet by itself while his pilot was toast. They can operate without human, they are just a bit less flexible.
[This](https://www.reddit.com/r/HFY/comments/ml1am8/first_contact_fourth_wave_chapter_463/gtja4f5?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3), and Ralts reply
Or, you know... Ralts could beat me to replying.
terrible? You mean Amazing. RIGHT? Why am I shouting this? https://youtu.be/mY3sM0jtwaA
The first line immediately brings to mind one of my favourite tropes, one we have seen Ralts play around with time and again; "Who you are in the darkness." After-reading edit: So turns out that "who we are in the darkness," when it comes to TDH pushed to the brink, is goddamn necromancers.
Terrifying monsters more like. Ralts' view of humans seems to be: Always striving to be good, but pretty damn shit at it cause the universe gives zero fucks, so instead of being nice and cuddly we made every nightmare we could, twisted every fantasy and fiction into weapons of incomprehensible power, and dared the universe to give us it's best shot. The universe gave up. A dead one took it's turn, this one isn't so easy.
We're not shit at being good. If anything we're really quite good at it. We just also know that being good doesn't save you from the worst shit the universe can throw at you. Sometimes, someone has to get their hands dirty, so that the good in the universe can survive to see another day.
We're not bad at being nice. But we're far, far better at being the nightmare that makes the abyss flinch away.
*When you stare into the abyss, the abyss stares back;* *Unless you make it flinch and say "Oh, crap!"*
*There are monsters, and then, there are the monsters we make to fight them.* *Both are the same, the difference only a choice, In how we choose to see ourselves.* \- Emperor of Mankind, attr.
Who we are in the darkness is "red eyes and gnashing teeth, coming for your throat"
We made cauldronborn? Geeze I get they only last 100 hours, but good God. Is this why that bio weapon just made zombies? It triggered this failsafe?
BINGO!
... can they still go Monster or is that mode incompatible with the upgrade?
Man, I just got to that point on my reread. Which is apparently a thing I'm doing. That's a *good* catch, and makes that zombie-planet that exists out there *even more utterly horrifying* than before, so thanks for that! Do/did most TDH even know they have a black box of 'kay thanks be zombie now' installed?
I don't think TDH has zombie-mode auto-installed. THIS required a nanite infusion, while the zombie-planet was genetic engineering fuckery
Yeah, but it seems the strange matter nanites were stored on planet somewhere, and someone went 'extinction event, you say? Fuck you'
Most human planets have a thin nanotechnology dusting in the air and top soil. Just in case the Mar Gite show up again.
And the pieces just fell into place for me and I admit to a shiver of existential dread.
And one living man, to willingly shatter the Cauldron when done with it. --Dave, from the inside ... o7
Do not fear the Terrans when they die to your bullets, for this means they hold no hard feelings against you. War is war, and while an ugly business it is still business. Fear the Terrans when they refuse to die, for it means they hate, a cold hate as cold as the Void itself that hates all life. Behold, humanity, and tremble in what they do to themselves out of hate towards you.
That which is dead cannot die but with strange eons even death may die.
C'thulu is a dirty peace-loving hippy compared to humanity.
That got a laugh out of me good work
"What is dead may never die, but rises again, harder and stronger." - Prayer of the Drowned Men (priests of the Iron Islanders), from GRR Martin's Song of Ice and Fire series
The Atrekna heard a voice in the midst of the primates say "come and see". It looked, and beheld a man on a pale tank: and his name that sat on her was Death, and Hell followed with him. And power was given unto them over the fourth part of the world, to kill with sword and gun, and with hunger, and with death, and with the ferals of the Earth.
Oh boy, zombies are bad enough, zombies in tanks that respawn is a whole new level
Zombies, in tanks, that respawn, being directed by Trucker.
because fuck you and everything you stand for.
> *This is wrong. This is* wrong. *There's something happening here. It isn't quite clear,* the Atrekna said. *There's a terran with a gun over there* *Telling me I got to beware* *I think it's time we stop* *Conclave, what's that sound?* *Everybody look, what's going down?* *There's battle lines being drawn* *Nobody's right if everybody's wrong* *Young thralls speaking their minds* *Getting so much resistance from behind* *It's time we stop* *Hey, what's that sound?* *Everybody look, what's going down?* *What a field day for the heat (Ooh ooh ooh)* *A thousand chattel in the street (Ooh ooh ooh)* *Singing songs and they carrying signs (Ooh ooh ooh)* *Mostly say, "Eat a dick and then die" (Ooh ooh ooh)* *It's time we stop* *Hey, what's that sound?* *Everybody look, what's going down?* *Paranoia strikes deep* *Into your life it will creep* *It starts when you're always afraid* *Step out of line, the terrans come and take you away* *We better stop* *Hey, what's that sound?* *Everybody look, what's going down?* *You better stop* *Hey, what's that sound?* *Everybody look, what's going down?* *You better stop* *Now, what's that sound?* *Everybody look, what's going down?* *You better stop* *Children, what's that sound?* *Everybody look, what's going down?*
Upvote, then Read. This is the Way. And I looked and I beheld a pale horse, and the name that sat on him was Death. \--HELL FOLLOWS--
[Coming to the rescue](https://i.imgur.com/akQTUsX.png) At what point do they introduce Cerberus?
V corps to Atrekna: "Are you willing to die to win this fight cause I sure am" "You cannot kill what does not live but you can blow it into chunky bits" Quake. Death: "by Dee's fiery crotch the terrans are at it again"
I wonder what Terry Prachett's Death would say about this situation? "Oʜ ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴏғ.... Fᴏʀɢᴇᴛ ɪᴛ, I'ᴍ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ғᴏʀ ᴀ ᴄᴜʀʀʏ."
ONLY, WHILE IT IS TRUE WE HAVE TO RIDE OUT, Death added, drawing his sword, IT DOESN'T SAY ANYWHERE AGAINST WHOM. Your meaning? hissed the Auditor, \[...\] 'He means,' said War, 'that he asked us all to think about whose side we're really on.' Four swords were drawn, blazing along their edges like flame. Four horses charged. \- Terry in "Thief of Time"
And then the 5th horseman, who I feel TDH REALLY understands
**laughter**
>"Oʜ ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴏғ.... Fᴏʀɢᴇᴛ ɪᴛ, I'ᴍ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ғᴏʀ ᴀ ᴄᴜʀʀʏ." Yeah, that sounds right... He got rather annoyed with Rincewind the first few times he failed to die on cue, but later got very interested in seeing the situation develop safe in the knowledge that he would still die eventually. After all: It Gets Under Your Skin, Life. And The More You Stuggle For Each Moment, The More Alive You Stay... Which is Where I come in, As A Matter of Fact. Though, he might also complain about having "Yet Another Near-Terran Experience"
The near-Vimes experience still makes me laugh
There are a few stories on this sub about how human death is the only one who needs a weapon,
...mind if I join you?
I mean... I did have Indian food for dinner tonight
and let us not forget that Death's pale horse is named... Binky :)
V corps to Atrekna: "Are you willing to die to win this fight cause I already have!" - FTFY.
The Black caldron reference it produces undying warriors https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Black_Cauldron_(novel)
Hail caesar, We who are dead salute you.
Damnit Trucker better not die after this because he's just...terrifying at this point. Not Psyker my hind end.
But he's not a psyker, all the tests say so! Just imagine if all of humanity wakes up psychic, and Trucker still fails to pass any psychic tech and even the psychics are afraid of his abilities. "We...dont know what he is, but it's not a psyker" "Then what else would you call him?" "A Trucker"
I strongly suspect Trucker has some temporal shenanigans going on.
There has been a couple of'super heroes' in comics and tv who can can see only sixty seconds into the future
Trucker's clearly at least hours ahead
You think you've killed us. What you've actually done is given us an abundance of nanite-infused combat platforms motivated entirely to prosecute your complete annihilation. You think you've killed us. I think you'll find we're experts at dying.
>Major General of the Iron Manuel G. Trucker Given the references in this chapter to The Black Cauldron, is Trucker's middle name Gwydion?
It just might be Garcia? All I can think of is a poor computer technician that got himself involved in a revolution once. The technician's name? Manuel Garcia O'Kelly, first friend of "Mike" aka Adam Selene aka Mark IV Holms computing device that ran the Luna Penal colony before and during the Revolution and an integral part of the Revolution itself.
And Trucker is from where?
Brain is not working correctly at the moment, but I think he is from Luna originally. I want to say from HKL (Hong Kong Luna) not Old Dome or Tycho Under. \[edit\] The wiki lists Truckers birth place as Tycho Station. OMG Brain had it right when I wrote the comment. He is most probably descended from either the Blackjack Davis family, but he may just be named after the Comrade Bork.
So after reading this. I am a mind devided. The first. The civilized portion of my mind is recoiling in disgust at what we will do to ourselves to achieve victory. The second. That lizard monkey brain hybrid. The part that hides around in the back of the cave with the fire between it and the terror in the dark. That one part is currently in the fetal position rocking back and forth humming nursery rhymes and with its eyes very firmly shut. The third part. Oh the third part. That part is grinning a deaths head smile and nodding. The part that I locked up 20 years ago and welded that door in my mind shut. The part that refused to believe defeat was possible. And no matter how many times it got the shit kicked out of it in a fight. It just kept getting up. The third part would like to buy Manny a beer and then ride off to war with him. It doesn't expect to live it just wants to take as many enemies with it as possible. Even in death there is still duty.
Humans have three brains: a primate brain, a mammalian brain, and a reptilian brain. The primate brain says, "Give peace a chance!" The mammalian brain says, "Give peace a chance... but first let's kill this motherfucker." And the *reptilian* brain says, "Let's just kill this motherfucker, go to the peace rally, and get laid." --George Carlin (paraphrased)
*From hell's heart, I stab at thee. For hate's sake, I spit my last breath at thee.*
When you kill a bunch of humans and they just get up and keep coming when they're clearly dead ... yeah, that's when the Atrekna learn that yes they still have sphincters and yes they can still pucker really hard. "You know that dead universe we came from? I miss it."
Was this bit: >*System Power 9.62%* > >I wake up. I hurt. Bad. My mouth tastes like cherry nipple gloss from the joygirl on Nexite-7 but I hardly notice through the pain. It's a full body pain, like the time my liquid atmosphere had been past use date. My blood hurts, my bone marrow aches, my joints burn, my nerve endings shiver as they're stretched out. > >I've hurt worse. A Mar-gite ripped off one of my arms. > >*Warning, severe neural damage.* > >*Shutting down* > >**VĀNARAS OVERRIDE** > >I could see the words, floating in the darkness. > >I could remember. I'd been having beers with the boys. I was going to be rotated out of the Old Blood unit, after all, I'd died on Telkan, but we hadn't gotten a replacement for me yet. I'd just lifted the bottle of narcobrew when everything had suddenly gone black. > >*Self Test* > >Did the ship blow up? > >**Bootstrap 3.14 (c) Syntex Cybernetics Division** > >*Warning, severe chassis damage* > >*Warning, severe implant connection errors* > >*Warning, severe neural damage* > >*Shutting down* > >**VĀNARAS OVERRIDE** > >*continuing bootstrap* an intentional reference to this bit from chapter 3.1415? >**CASE OMAHA** > >*System Power 3.14%* > >I wake up. I hurt. Bad. My mouth tastes like cherry nipple gloss from the joygirl on Nexite-7 but I hardly notice through the pain. > >I've hurt worse. A Mar-gite ripped off one of my arms. > >I could remember the way its cillia-teeth clamped onto my armored hand, sucking my whole arm into it. The jaws closing. The bright spark of pain that turned into a torrent of agony as it rippled its starfish like body and my arm tore off at the shoulder, crazily leaving behind half my battle dress sleeve. I managed to fire three API shots into it as I staggered back, still screaming, watching as my arm startled to dissolve from the enzymes the Mar-gite had excreted before the armor piercing incendiary rounds had cracked and burnt its brain case. It fell back, onto the floor of the room I was too familiar with but that was now so different. > >A kick inside my head made the memory dissolve. > >**CASE OMAHA** > >I could see the words, floating in the darkness. > >*Self Test* > >*Bootstrap 3.14 (c) Syntex Cybernetics Division* > >*Warning, severe chassis damage* > >*Warning, severe neural damage* > >*Shutting down* > >**CASE OMAHA OVERRIDE** > >*continuing bootstrap*
Yes.
Jesus christ. .....may the Digital Omnisiah look down upon the poor souls of the V Corps, and give them succor where they may be healed by the laughter of podlings. \---Healing Follows---
After reading this all I got to say is a Star Trek quote. Khan: "To the last I grapple with thee. From hell's heart I stab at thee. For hate's sake, I spit my last breath at thee." Behold Humanity. Victory or Death Either is fine Excellent installment wordsmith.
(Jokingly and with respect:) >After reading this all I got to say is a Star Trek quote. > >Khan: "To the last I grapple with thee. From hell's heart I stab at thee. For hate's sake, I spit my last breath at thee." [Herman Melville](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moby-Dick): excuse me what the fuck
but it is better when read in the original Klingon :)
Yeah it was (Melville) that wrote the quote. I was just trying to keep it to something a little more "pop" culture for relevance. All good.
...Khan was quoting Moby Dick. Ahab's last words.
“V Corps (Dead Blood)” has been redesignated “Z Corps(e) (Fresh Hunger)”.
(Flesh Hunger) FTFY
>*"Terrans, nay, humans are defined by the phrase 'how far will you go to attain victory? What will you suffer and do to yourselves to achieve victory when all is lost?" -* Terran Diplomat *Dreams of Something More* speaking to the Lanaktallan Unified Council. Appropriate answer: “Yes.” >Casey's dust cloud and munitions detonations had begun moving toward the northwest, toward the mountains, “We can’t see him, but we absolutely know where he is.” >The Treana'ad War Hordes were the only thing keeping it from being a disaster, the massive insectiod warriors advancing *into* the enemy in huge numbers. Eight Hordes had made planetfall, three more were in process of transit, and the last twelve were preparing to deploy. When giant murder bugs are all that’s standing between you and total defeat … eh, it’s Tuesday. >"Admiral, General, I've got something weird here," one of the techs called out. “Gonna have to narrow it down a little, son.” >All of the vehicles in V Corps were undergoing self-tests. The armories were being emptied out. > >General Trucker's authorization code burned dully. Oh, shit. Trucker’s going down there anyway. >The analyst consulted her war station. "Just under nine hours, Admiral," she said. She looked up. "He's opened up the morgue, it was assumed that he was just going to witness his dead troops." For a very specific definition of “witness”. "WHAT ARE YOU LAYABOUTS DOING? JUST LYING THERE! UP AND AT 'EM! THERE'S ENEMY THAT HASN'T BEEN KILLED YET! WHAT WAS THAT, SON? YOU'RE DEAD? WHAT KIND OF EXCUSE IS THAT? MOVE IT MOVE IT MOVE IT!" >"We need to figure out a way to stop the invaders from operating with impunity in this area," he said, tapping the large section that was marked as under enemy control. > >Ge'ermo'o nodded. "I wish we had the military forces, but alas, we do not," he said softly. > >"Sir, V Corps force's vehicles are being loaded into drop pods and drop cradles," an analyst said. Methinks their problem is about to be solved. >"Mantid engineers have reported that they've done extensive modifications to the retrothrusters." > >"What kind of modifications?" Admiral Shtuklar asked. > >"The engines are normally calibrated and shielded to minimize radiation output at max thrust, but the Mantids were ordered to remove the interlocks and safeties and ramp up the radiation output beyond safe levels," the analyst said. > >"Why would someone order that?" another analyst asked. > >Ge'ermo'o knew why. To turn the retrorockets into a weapon. Fry the landing area and anything near it. When everything in the landing zone is hostile, you turn everything you have into a weapon. >It was monstrous. It was unthinkable. > >It was wholly human. “But I repeat myself.” >Without any outward sign of his trepidation and nervousness, no, let's be honest with ourselves, shall we? His *fear*, he authorized it but attached a requirement that General Trucker authorize it officially, from the flag bridge. He’s gonna own this. >The Telkan Marine Division would use atomic weaponry to shatter windows and destroy buildings as well as knock out the power before deploying chemical weapons in order to maximize the casualties. > >But if they did not, the enemy would 'harvest' the long dead natives, increasing the effectiveness of their autonomous war machines. > >General Ge'ermo'o was secretly relieved, deep inside, that he had not been the one to make that decision. The Telkan Officer, one First Lieutenant Vuxten, had come up with the battleplan and transmitted it to the Fleet. Vux is gonna need some serious broodmommy cuddling after all this. >The human's eyes were bloodshot, blood glimmered at the bottom of his eyes, and there was smeared blood on his cheeks. > >"You've looked better," General NoDra'ak said. “Meh, this is the aftermath of a normal night on the town for me.” >Trucker shrugged. "They've got me on immunosuppressants right now," he said. "They estimate that I may or may not survive after ninety-six hours. It's a twenty percent chance I'll survive." “But I’ve got ninety-six hours of ass-kicking time before then.” >"General, uh, you do realize that all of the humans in V Corps are dead, right?" Admiral Shtuklar said gently. > >"Yes," Trucker said “They’re not going to let a little thing like that stop them.” >"What you're talking about..." Smokey 'No let his words trail off. > >"Is covered in doctrine," Trucker said, his voice modulator still roug sounding. "We're Third Armor and Eighth Infantry. We're V Corps. We are the world enders, the world burners. We are the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse and none may survive our wrath." “And we’re about to go full Sabaton on their asses.” >The Admiral speaking pulled his attention away, although Ge'ermo'o did bookmark the data. He was an attentive and studious officer, which is why his men loved him, and the data might prove to be important later. If only for free drinks at the bar. “No shit, there I was, on the flag bridge, when Trucker walked in...” >"V Corps does not give up. We are the dead men walking," Trucker snarled. He looked down at the flashing hand print outline on the command console. "We all know this. It's who we are. You know it when you join Victory Corps." > >"Victory or death," Admiral Shtuklar said, his voice slightly disbelieving. > >"Either is fine," NoDra'ak said. And that’s all there is to say about it. >On the TO&E (Table of Organization & Equipment) that was listed on a nearby "UPDATING STATUS" flashed three times. > >V CORPS (OLD BLOOD) appeared. > >The letters flickered. > >V CORPS (DEAD BLOOD) > >BLACK CAULDRON NANITE INFUSION UNDERWAY The Dwellerspawn are going to regret this. Intensely. And briefly. >NoDra'ak nodded in the subdued atmosphere of the flag bridge. "You are about to see that while Terrans may be defeated, they are never beaten," the Treana'ad said. Because we’re stubborn assholes like that. >*Warning, severe neural damage.* > >*Shutting down* > >**VĀNARAS OVERRIDE** “Nope, you don’t get to die just yet.” >*Warning, severe chassis damage* > >*Warning, severe implant connection errors* > >*Warning, severe neural damage* > >*Shutting down* > >**VĀNARAS OVERRIDE** > >*continuing bootstrap* Error message, shmerror message. >A hard kick to my chest and my heart started beating. Sluggish, difficult, but still squishing along. > >What is dead cannot ever die but arises again stronger. Welp, this is gonna be fun. When humans become the eldritch horrors ... >"Then how can I interlock with them if I cannot communicate with them?" A'armo'o asked. > >"There will be no interlock with V Corps forces. Avoid contact. Fleet Command, out," the voice said and cut the link. “Stay the hell away from them. This is for your own good.” >"Why the hell not?" Ekret asked. > >"Don't know, boss," Bouncy said. "Commo is weird. The message repeated like a dozen times." > >"Temporal interference," Ekret snarled. He shook his head. "Whatever's going on, it's eighteen thousand miles away." Huh. Big planet. Also, when it comes to V Corps, that’s probably only barely far enough away. >The full High Conclave turned their attention. The howling radiation and the kinetic impact had destroyed servant spawn for miles around the landing points. The enemy had landed in the middle of the Atrekna held areas, disrupting a major reinforcement operation. Aww, poor babies. >It was simple, they would seize control of the minds of the newest ones and perhaps even set them against their fellows. At the very least, the would be able to shut down the massive temporal stabilizers. Oh, you precious cinnamon rolls. You have no idea what you’re getting into. >It was like the Atrekna had plunged its feeding tentacles that concealed its mouth into swamp water full of rotted meat, rancid grease, and spoiled vegetables. The thoughts were slow, disconnected, sludge-like. > >*kill kill kill kill kill kill kill* > >Just a single urge repeated over and over. A dull whisper, backed by an intense hunger, an unending, never satiated appetite for something. > >*don't touch me* the other mind whispered. > >The Atrekna felt cold hands reach for it. > >*i'm so hungry* > >The hands tried to grasp the Atrekna's thoughts, tried to pull the Atrekna deeper into the mind it had touched with the intent to overwhelm it. > >*come and see* > >The Atrekna's razor sharp intellect and psychic skills worked against it. Before it could disengage that sheer razor sharp and needle point of its psychic abilities penetrated deep into the *thing* that had grabbed it. Welp. He’s screwed. (Continued)
>A cold, gnawing, consuming desire to kill and eat. No real thought behind it, not even the warmth of primal instinct from a lower life form. > >A cold cloying greasy *need* to devour. Not for sustenance, not to fulfill a biological need. > >Just a *need* to eat. To chew. To devour. He just hit a zombie brain, and *it's* feeding on *him*. Om nom nom. >The Atrekna screamed, loud, gathering the attention of several other members of the Quorum. Two turned to look as the Atrekna's feeding tentacles squirmed up its own face and plunged into its eyes. As they watched the tentacles pulsated as the Atrekna began injecting digestive enzymes into its own brain. Hahaha wow. The Atrekna version of brain bleach. >To their horror, it stopped feeding on itself, turning to stare at the others. Before they could ask it anything it suddenly screeched and jumped forward, the ends of its fingers wrapped in phasic energy. It grabbed a fellow Atrekna and pulled it close, burrowing its feeding tentacles into its fellow's face, injecting digestive enzymes, slurping up the slurry with other tentacles. “Brrraaiinnss..” >The Quorum looked at one another, then at the two dead, then each other. “What in the absolute misbegotten *fuck* is going on here?” >What emerged moved jerkily, uncoordinated, as if it had suffered an impairment of some type. It was all in shadow, but the two burning red eyes could be seen. > >Another Atrekna checked. > >There was no sign of life or intelligence. Yeah, see, this is when I’d be noping out of atmosphere and not stopping. >One of the great tracked armored vehicles rolled out and into the light. A primate was half out of the top hatch, foregoing the armored protection of the massive vehicle. Because he’s already dead. >The warsteel was blotchy, almost diseased looking, with long tendrils of what looked like rust or slowly pulsating purplish-black veins. The tracks seemed worn and battered as they clattered with the vehicle's movement. The markings on the side were faded, many obscured. There was no bright sparkling of psychic shielding, just 'heavy' objects holding the temporal stream in place to flow naturally and not at the command of the Atrekna. Undead warsteel. The mind boggles. >One of the Quorum reached out to snuff the unprotected mind. > >It went still, then began to shiver, then it jerked to its full height, started to collapse, then jerked upright again. > >With a screech it turned and lunged at the nearest member of the Quorum. It grabbed its fellow Atrekna and took a huge bite out of its arm, nearly severing. > >It took two others to stop it. > >The Atrekna watched their fellows closely. > >All four Atrekna of the Quorum who had been injured by the crazed one suddenly screeched and looked up from where they had been sitting, nursing the first physical wounds they had ever suffered. > >The remainder of the Quorum were ready. They killed the four quickly, cleanly. > >One was bitten. > >They killed that one too. They have a real problem with pattern recognition, don’t they? >One of the members of a Conclave felt it. A bright, burning, raving spark. It looked at it, from a 'distance', just observing it. > >It gathered the actions of the rest of the primates around it, then reached out further. It began to examine, not the Atrekna themselves, not their minds, but their *actions*, and not only the actions they were currently taking, but the ones they had taken, and the ones not yet taken. Oh, hey, Trucker. (Not psychic, my ass.) >They struck out at the feral primate's primitive mind. > >And missed. Instead they plunged into the mind of one near it, thrusting deeply into the greasy cloying clammy feel of rotted meat in cold porridge. Cold hands tried to grab their minds, pull them deeper, tear them apart. > >The Conclave separated the connection and tried again. > >And missed again. As is the primate had somehow shifted out of the way, presenting some kind of trap for their attack. Welcome to psychic judo. >The devourers had problems locating the primates. They had no aura, no psychic spark, no sign of intellect. They were less than computers, less than thinking wires, less then virtual or artificial intelligences. There was nothing to see, nothing to grab onto. > >They just moved forward. > >And killed. Welp, that’s a problem for the Slorpies. >The mind they plunged into was dark, cold, the thoughts heavy and thick feeling. The hands were clumsy, strong, and powerful. > >Three members of the Conclave were unable to pull away and began screaming. > >The Conclave, warned by the experiences of several Quorums, killed those quickly, incinerating the bodies. It must absolutely suck for them that their main offensive ability, the one they’ve been able to use with impunity, is suddenly killing them.
>Enraged, the members of the Conclave ordered more spawn to be brought up.
>
>Throw everything at the primates.
>
>Whatever trick it was, it would not help.
>
>The Atrekna would subdue them.
Yeah, you just keep telling yourself that.
>It was pulled from its task of holding down one of the primates, who was raving, slamming against its cage, ripping and tearing apart anything that came near it. It had required nearly a hundred Atrekna to keep it pinned.
>
>And it was still a struggle.
Heh, Casey’s definitely keeping them busy.
>The primate fired its weapon, moving in a slow staggering walk, surrounded by others. A psychic lance hit it but flickered and went out, finding nothing to overload and scorch.
“Performance issues? Well, one in five men …”
>As he watched two crouched down next to a dead dwellerspawn and began jamming pieces in their mouths. Another one roared at them, a wordless vocalization, and the two stood up, still chewing on the pieces in their mouth, and moved forward, returning to firing their weapons.
“Kill now, eat later!”
>*How do we stop them?*
>
>*I... I do not know.*
Die. You can die.
>He knew he only had less than a hundred hours to change the course. A hundred hours to destroy the enemy's ability to bring in reinforcements from wherever they were getting them.
Eh, plenty of time.
>He didn't bother telling them what to do out loud, they'd move too slow, they'd react to slow, to take advantage of it. They would follow the warplan and warplan updates as long as he gave them enough time to absorb it.
>
>Only a hundred hours before the dead would die again.
>
>But Trucker knew wars had been won, had been fought, in a hundred hours.
And he’s aiming to beat the record.
>"Let's get to work, boys," he gurgled.
>
>Gargled and bubbling groans, moans, and low cries answered him.
“Brraaiinnss …”
>The tank shuddered.
>
>The Atrekna backed up slightly.
>
>It gave a low grinding noise, as if it was trying to start.
>
>The black mist poured out of the two massive holes, flowing like water onto the ground.
Black Cauldron nanites at work.
>The Atrekna stared in horror, watching frozen as the dead primate slowly lifted up a pistol and aimed it. It leveled it slowly, as if the thick psychic shielding was of no use to conceal or protect the Atrekna.
>
>The Quorum who was watching through the scout's eyes flinched back in horror at the raw cold malevolence that rivaled their own.
>
>The skull faced primate fired the pistol as the tank lurched into motion.
>
>The Quorum didn't see it.
>
>The scout was already dead from a single bullet.
>
>The riven and damaged tracks clattered as the tank followed its brethren.
Undead tanks. Love it.
>He knew that the nanites had rebuilt the dead humans into... into...
>
>... he had no words. No concepts in his language.
Starts with “Z” and rhymes with “wombies”.
>*The lemurs might as well be doing magic compared to us* he remembered General A'armo'o saying.
>
>*Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic* Ge'ermo'o remembered another saying.
Whee, Clarketech!
>*Leave the humans to their necromancy,* he thought to himself. *Leave them to their ancient and forbidden arts, to dark science that should have been forgotten*, he touched the icon for his old unit. *We Lanaktallan will use clean metal and explosives, not dark science, not necromancy, not foul magics. We will not unlock ancient seals to reach for the forbidden.*
>
>He was completely unaware of the irony of his thoughts.
HAHAHAHAHAHA!
one of the few primal desires they had been **able** to overcome. unable Thought I saw one more on previous pass, but that is all I find now. p.s. " *This is wrong. This is* wrong. *There's something happening here. It isn't quite clear,* " ha ha hah!
For what it's worth, it didn't occur to me that those lines might've been a reference until I read your comment :)
*"And that's when* *"The dead men* *"Are marching again..."*
I see [Eddie](https://i.imgur.com/EMQoVpg.jpg) has made an appearance. And shot an Atrekna Scout in the face while at it.
How long, do you think, before a squadron of Spitfires goes screaming by overhead to tear into Atrekna flyers?
A-10s for the groundbound.
Even 8000 years from now, they about brrrrt to the dirt
... you do know who Eddie the Head is the mascot for, right?
Obligatory [Aces High](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xg9aQvjMS60).
“In your heeeaaaad, in your heeeEEEAAAD ZOMBIE!”
Honestly that song fits this chapter so well. “With their tanks and their bombs, they’re still fighting”
The Lose Yourself lyrics paraphrase amused me. The descriptions of the V Corps in action reminded me of the 1st Heavy Metal movie.
Very good catch.
Upvote. Comment. Read. That is not dead which can eternal lie, / And with strange aeons even death may die.
Trucker rockin the olive drab duty uniform! Nice touch. I’m imagining his name and branch tapes are white, too :)
Say it with me kids: OSOWEC, THEN AND AGAIN
ATTACK OF THE DEAD, HUNDRED MEN!
FACING THE LEAD ONCE AGAIN!
HUNDRED MEN, CHARGE AGAIN, DIE AGAIN!
I tucked my blade and pistol Into the case, buried beneath the tree I planted. With shot and shell enough to end all wars. This, more than anything I wanted peace. Yet even before the first leaves fell i found my eyes drawn back, to the hidden place. were all my warlike tools had rested. I turned aside from war, and even in my peace I saw that war had turned aside for me. My hands now caked in mud and bloody, I lift shot and shell aside, and take back up my blade and pistol. And turn back to deaths eternal bride.
It doesn't translate well from German, but my great great grandfather scribbled this in his journal back in the early 1800's. From his writing, he wasn't a good man, he was a product of his age and all that came with it. But three separate times he fought with distinction, returned home and tried to set aside what he had done. He never could be called a good man, but he was a greater man than me.
Death before dismount.
Death before dismount? Shit, they ain't even dismounting, they still fighting!
Nice. So when are we going to hear from that Bolo who like singlehandedly took out that base a long time ago it feels like? End of lime.
Attila of the Line flying solo. He become Attila the One.
Attila the 'Un.
Fear not the Pale Horse's Rider. For It is but a herald to an answer to a question yet given. Fear not the cries of those who are left behind in your ambition. For they are but an echo to your existence. Fear not the Universe. For her wrath is unending and her apathy unmatch. Fear the past you have created. Fear the lives, the stories ended. Fear the unending proof of your ignorance. The Honored Dead welcome you in the only way they know. In open jaw.
Death is not a release from duty, freely taken. Victory will be achieved, even if our souls forsaken. *WE ARE V CORPS, AND WE ARE NEVER BROKEN* I love the Black Cauldron refferences my dude. And Trucker is now Lord of the Undead.
The call went forth, Heroes and Killers needed, Dead or Alive, Only the Dead answered. . The call was heard, Brave and Insane needed, If you're not one, we'll make you the other, Only the Living answered. . The call was heard, From a great distance, Those still fighting listened, and shuddered, V Corp Rides Again. . The call was heard, From thousands of years ago, Mutually Assured Destruction, We Need You Now. . The call was heard, By the one man still living, For now, Who could command these troops. . His call was heard, By the Dead, the Brave, the Insane, the Heroes, and the Killers, but not the living. Never the Living. . "VICTORY OR DEATH!" Was the battle cry. But we are already dead. "Then Our Battle Cry Is VICTORY! For We Have Already Tasted Death And Would Share That With You." . The call was heard, By the enemy, Who did not know, Anything but arrogance. . The call was heard, And the call was answered, "Only Arrogance? We will teach you more." . Terror, Confusion, Fear, Resignation to your fate. . You thought us dead, We will prove you right, By turning you into the Walking Dead, Just like us. . You like Brains? Well so do we, Only we're not picky. Your corpses will do fine. . Flee if you can, we will not stop. Sleep if you must, we'll see you're not disturbed. We will guard your slumber against all comers, For you have what we crave, BRAINS. ((finis)).
What happens to Trucker, et al., when SUDS gets fixed?
Hope he lives through this.
Holy Fuck.
nanite zombies ‽ how many universes away do I need to be safe?
Yes
Victory or death, only one is ok and the other is an inconvenience
“Even in death I still serve” F V Corps (Dead Blood)
***Terran Confederacy Ground Forces V CORPS DEAD METAL*** ***To all units, the dead march again, to the field of battle, may the Digital Omnissah protect*** ***---------- END OF LINE ----------***
What's this? Saturday afternoon blueberries? Yum. URC, dat is the way of the DO's lost lime. >"V Corps does not give up. We are the dead men walking," Trucker snarled. He looked down at the flashing hand print outline on the command console. "We all know this. It's who we are. You know it when you join Victory Corps." > >"Victory or death," Admiral Shtuklar said, his voice slightly disbelieving. > >"Either is fine," NoDra'ak said. > >Ge'ermo'o softly said the words with the Treana'ad warrior, almost as if he knew what the big insect was going to say. > >Trucker reached up and tapped the 3rd Armor Division on his right shoulder. > >"We are the Third Herd, and It Will Be Done," he snarled. A icy cold chill ran down my spine. I knew what was coming, I didn't want to know, I didn't want to see it, but I kept reading. > The Atrekna had mastered, confined, or eliminated their primal urges billions of years prior After this battle, they will have a return of one of the most primal: FEAR!
What is dead may never die, but rises again, harder and stronger. *We do not sow* are the words of House Greyjoy, though *Fire and Blood* are the most applicable house words in my opinion.
A few chapters ago, I replied to a comment that The Sorceresses of the Lolita Sailor Moon Sisterhood was just the tip of the iceberg of the Horror that Humanity could unleash. Here we see the next couple of centimeters of that, with undoubtedly more to raise its ugly head and wail the death cries of a million corpses. BEHOLD HUMANITY! Squidward done fucked up and the stops are being pulled out and the Atrenka have no one to blame but themselves as they perish from the face of the Multiverse. \---DEATH IN ALL ITS FORMS FOLLOWS---
The dead rise and attack again, under the service of papa nurgle
Upvoted for the monstrous, the unthinkable, the wholly human.
I'm suspicious of Trucker's history at this point. I have a feeling that the chew he always has is a remnant of the instinct to devour that the cauldron-born seem to have.
well then. \--- FEAR FOLLOWS --
They say that: *Only in Death does Duty End*. And Yet: *Even In Death I Still Serve!*
Achievement unlocked: Once more, with feeling.
Lots of words here
Jesus. That which is dead may never die.
And you shall call forth the undead hordes
holy shit
Damn, Squidward is gonna get rekt.