The massive hull of the Hyperion broke free from orbital constraints, its main engines belching surging blue flames as it charged headlong into the Protoss blockade fleet formation like an enraged giant beast.
Piercing battle alarms echoed throughout the entire ship, red lights flashing wildly in the corridors.
"All combat personnel, to your stations! Fighter squadrons, prep for launch! Engineering, prioritize weapon and shield power!" Matt Horner's voice echoed through the comms, tense beneath his usual steady tone.
Down in the ground camp, a final flurry of chaotic busywork erupted.
Non-combat personnel were urgently evacuated to underground bunkers or fortified structures.
The Raiders assembled quickly, collecting ammunition and checking gear. Tychus shouted orders at his squad, pushing mobile anti-aircraft guns and missile launchers to pre-set defensive positions.
Osiris and Valerie did not enter the bunkers.
"Observational recording," Osiris said calmly, his optical lens tracking the Hyperion's trajectory. "Gather tactical data on the Protoss fleet, Mothership weapon efficiency parameters, and full-process information on Terran resistance operations. When necessary, offer limited, identity-appropriate technical support suggestions."
He made no mention of evacuating. This was a rare, prime opportunity for close-range observation of the conflict between two civilizations in this universe.
"Understood," Valerie nodded, swiftly scattering her "security personnel" across key observation points while remaining near Osiris herself.
Dr. Hanson refused to go into the bunker, insisting on staying near the lab to reinforce the observation node.
"I need to watch. I need to remember all of this," her face was pale, her gaze stubborn and unyielding.
Up in the sky, the Protoss fleet reacted to the Hyperion's movements.
Several Phoenix fighters detached from the formation, sweeping forward with swift elegance as their psionic fire carved golden trails through the air.
The Hyperion's point-defense turrets opened fire furiously, and Wraith fighters swarmed out of the hangar bays to dogfight with the Phoenixes, bursts of blinding light instantly illuminating the twilight sky.
Yet the fighters were not the true threat. The Mothership—dubbed the "Purifier" by Selendis—glowed with a main gun so blinding it was impossible to look at directly. It slowly adjusted its orientation, aiming straight down at the planet's surface below: a river valley that had previously been heavily contaminated.
"Mothership main cannon fully charged! Target locked!" the Hyperion's sensor officer screamed over the broadcast.
"Evasion is useless! Brace for the shockwave! All ground units, take cover!" Matt roared.
The next second, a colossal beam of deep blue light connected heaven and earth, crashing down silently from the front of the Mothership into the river valley with absolute, destructive power.
There was no deafening explosion. The moment the beam touched the surface, matter was instantly disintegrated and ionized, transforming into an expanding ring of searing light. A visible shockwave swept outward at extreme speed, melting and vaporizing rock in its path, turning the earth into a shimmering, steaming glass desert.
Even from a great distance, the camp felt the ground quake violently as a blast of hot air washed over them.
"The Mothership 'Purifier'... well named," Osiris recorded the energy output metrics, kill radius, and surface alteration characteristics. Localized pinpoint eradication weapons of this scale were nothing new in the Warhammer universe, but the specific mechanics of its energy utilization and structural effects were well worth deeper study.
"Jim! We can't let it keep firing!" Matt's voice howled through the channel. "Swann! Will your plan actually work or not?!"
"Transmitting the schematics now, Boss!" the gravelly voice of engineer Rory Swann carried a rare trace of excitement. "Knew we'd need these sooner or later! The Viking fighter—a dual-mode air-to-ground transforming airframe built specifically for massive targets and airborne threats! The production lines are set, but I need time!"
"We don't have time! Start production immediately! All resources go to engineering!" Raynor's order left no room for argument. He was aboard a dropship, preparing to touch down in a safe zone to establish a forward command point.
"Matt, analyze that Mothership! Its shields cover nearly the entire hull and energy readings are ridiculously off the charts—a direct attack is suicide!"
"Scanning now... found an anomaly!" the sensor officer yelled. "The Mothership's shield energy isn't fully self-generated! Three powerful external power sources are feeding it! The signals are coming from different locations on the planet's surface—Protoss Nexuses! They're acting as anchors, feeding near-infinite shield energy to the Mothership!"
On the holographic tactical map, three prominent golden blips lit up on the surface, establishing energy links with the orbital Mothership.
"Found the weak spot!" A fierce gleam flashed in Raynor's eyes. "We've gotta pull those three pins out first! Matt, give me exact coordinates! Swann, as soon as those Vikings roll off the line, throw them straight at the Nexuses! Ground forces will assist in clearing the Protoss defenses around them!"
"First batch of Vikings will be off the line within five minutes!" Swann guaranteed.
A battle plan took shape rapidly: In the air, the Hyperion and its fighter squadrons would tie down the main body of the Protoss fleet, interfering with the Mothership as much as possible to buy time for ground ops; on the ground, Raynor would personally command the main Raider force, pushing to knock out the three Protoss Nexuses one by one with fire support from the newly produced Vikings; the ultimate goal was to destroy the Mothership once its invulnerable shield collapsed.
A desperate gamble. But Raynor had no other choice.
The first wave of Protoss ground units descended through warp beams to defend the Nexuses. The golden figures of Zealots, Stalkers, and Immortals flashed across the wasteland, opening heavy fire against Terran Marines, Marauders, and Hellions.
A small Protoss patrol unit appeared along the outer perimeter of the camp where Osiris and Valerie were situated. Valerie's "security team" opened fire in silence. Their precise marksmanship and heavy firepower instantly suppressed the Protoss warriors' assault, their sheer efficiency causing nearby defending Raiders to glance over in surprise.
"Consultant... your bodyguards are scary good," a Raider sergeant panted, yelling over the noise.
"Company property. Professional standard," Osiris offered a concise reply while his sensors recorded the combat data of the Protoss ground units: the cutting efficiency of Psi-Blades, the Blink cooldown of the Stalkers, the shield strength and regeneration rates of the Immortals...
At the observation point, Dr. Hanson watched the distant battle through a telescope. Seeing Raiders fall under Protoss fire and watching temporary settlements turn into seas of flame under the Mothership's secondary batteries, tears slid silently down her face. She bit her lip hard, keeping herself from crying out loud. Beside her, the inhibitor samples and data pads were still sitting there, but war had already arrived.
Under the onslaught of the Protoss fleet, the Hyperion maneuvered with great difficulty. Its shields flickered wildly as the hull was struck time and again, bursting into bright blooms of fire. Yet it successfully drew away the bulk of the enemy's firepower.
At the same time, the first batch of six Viking fighters launched from the mobile production lines. Nimble air-superiority fighters in the sky, they dived and transformed into heavy mechs, pounding Protoss ground units and structures with twin gatling cannons and rocket pods.
Supported by the Viking fighters, Raynor spearheaded the ground force's charge toward the first Protoss Nexus. The fighting was brutal. The Protoss had built fortified defenses around the Nexus—Photon Cannons, Shield Batteries, and a steady stream of reinforcements. Every step forward was paid for in blood.
Osiris observed it all. He evaluated Raynor's tactical command capability—decisive, adept at seizing key vulnerabilities, and skilled at inspiring subordinates under adversity; he evaluated the Raiders' combat effectiveness—gear that was far from top-tier, yet paired with an unyielding will and smooth tactical coordination; and he evaluated the Protoss operational doctrine—highly efficient and precise, relying on formidable technology and individual prowess, yet slightly slow to adapt to such an "unorthodox" and desperate counteroffensive.