"No air superiority? It can't be that bad, can it?" BUG was a bit dazed. Beneath his helmet, his brows were furrowed, and his voice carried a clear sense of confusion. "With so many fleets in the sky, even if we can't completely seize orbital control, surely we haven't let the Necrons snatch air superiority within the atmosphere?"
He pointed toward the thick layer of bedrock above them. Beyond that solid dome, in the deep space surrounding Amara Prime, massive battleship formations were stationed—symbols of the Imperium of Man's might.
Assimilation Complete shook his head. His voice, muffled by his gas mask, sounded low as it revealed the ruthless reality: "It's not that we've lost it completely, but the initiative to launch the first wave of attacks is entirely in the enemy's hands. Necron aircraft are superior to ours in every way—our planes simply can't keep up!"
He paused, his gaze sweeping over the underground array of self-propelled artillery, his tone tinged with helplessness: "The only way is to wait for the Necron aircraft to drop their bombs. Once they reveal themselves, our fighters can scramble to intercept, trying to bog them down and use numerical superiority to shoot them down. They can come whenever they want, but leaving won't be quite so easy."
BUG wasn't stupid. Common tropes from movies and novels flashed through his mind, and a sense of foreboding surged. He slapped his thigh and said urgently, "Then what if the Necron bombers show up and blow up all our airfields right away?"
"First of all," Assimilation had clearly considered this, raising a hand dismissively, "Imperial Navy fighters don't usually take off from the ground. They deploy from orbital warships to support atmospheric operations."
"Secondly," Assimilation continued, his tone blurring the line between cynicism and sorrow through his mask, "The Necrons look down on us. They don't deign to gather intelligence or conduct surgical strikes. They'll almost certainly just target the most populated areas—the Hive Cities."
"Holy crap," BUG understood. A bone-chilling cold rose up his spine, tensing every muscle in his body.
Even as a Helldiver accustomed to dying, he couldn't help but react to a strategy that used billions of mortals as bait. "The entire Hive City is just bait? Isn't that a bit... sociopathic?"
"It's Warhammer, it's grimdark. Aren't you used to it yet?" Assimilation Complete stepped forward and patted BUG's shoulder, the heavy uniform making a dull thud. "Besides, I should ask you—how do you not know any of this?"
"I'm supposed to know this?" BUG raised an eyebrow in surprise.
"Duh!" Assimilation said, sounding frustrated by his friend's ignorance. "This was all written in the game's update patch notes! Did you not even glance at them when you logged in?"
"Who the hell reads patch notes?" BUG retorted.
Despite the banter, BUG felt a lingering gloom. He gripped his lasgun tightly, his voice low: "Dammit... then what exactly are we protecting?"
The more BUG thought about it, the harder it was to swallow. He kicked a piece of shattered rock. "Setting aside that the other planets in the Orpheus Sector were abandoned, even the civilians on Amara Prime are basically dead meat as soon as the war starts? We might win the war this way, but it feels wrong."
"You can't look at it like that. In monster movies, don't giant robots always throw monsters into skyscrapers? No one sues the pilots for property damage afterward," Assimilation shook his head, gesturing as if to encompass the fate of the entire planet. "We've simply chosen the most efficient military path to victory. What's that saying? Necessary sacrifices..."
BUG chewed on the phrase for a moment before sighing. "Even if you say that, I still feel uneasy. Maybe my moral compass is just calibrated too high." He looked down at his worn combat boots, grinding the dust into the floor.
"Don't overthink it. We're just here to play a game," Assimilation said, patting BUG's shoulder again to pull him out of the funk. "And even if we weren't, we're just grunts. We command a hundred guys at most. Focus on your own fight; that's enough."
He looked back at the artillery array. "If you really can't get over it, then focus on killing the enemy. Do everything to win. Maybe if we 'Helldivers' keep winning for the Imperium and solve all external threats, things like this will stop happening?"
He added a positive example: "The battle on Plantidium earlier—we drove off the Tyranids without the civilians of the Five Hundred Worlds of Ultramar getting hurt, right?"
BUG thought back to the tension between the Space Wolves and the Inquisition on Peditia and gave a bitter laugh. "If all the external threats are actually solved, I feel like the Imperium would immediately start a civil war."
Assimilation Complete: "That's fine. When that happens, we'll follow Dr. Excel to 'clear the Emperor's side of evil.' We'll strike wherever he points, wipe out the careerists, and support Calgar to establish the Second Empire!"
"You got the order wrong. It would be the Third Empire, wouldn't it?" BUG teased, mockingly counting on his fingers. "Dante for Emperor, Calgar as Regent, and maybe find Cypher to be the Warmaster for fun?Haha!"
"Heresy! I think you're looking for a bolt shell to the head!" Assimilation reacted instantly, his voice rising as he pointed a finger directly at BUG's gas mask.
After the joking around, the suffocating tension evaporated. The brief moment of levity allowed them to push aside the grim reality of the war and their moral dilemmas.