Frontline Base.
Biological Engineering Center;
"We can calibrate the control terminals for the cloned soldiers within three hours," Alexia calculated the time required and then looked at Samuel Young beside her, reminding him, "But doing this will affect the combat efficiency of the clones. Are you sure?"
Not long ago, Samuel Young had come to the Biological Engineering Center and issued the order to "calibrate the mobile terminals so that the cloned soldiers are controlled by the Tyrant pilots."
As a subordinate, Alexia naturally followed the order, but she still reminded her boss of the drawbacks of this approach. After all, the clones would be most effective if controlled on-site by specialized ARS or AESC soldiers.
"I know, but the original purpose of creating clones was to minimize the casualties of our soldiers," Samuel Young said as he swiped through the content on the screen in front of him, pulling up the relevant files on "consciousness transmission."
"Indeed." Alexia nodded lightly.
She had never forgotten the original intention behind the clone project, though she occasionally fell into the "trap" of numbers, becoming overly focused on terms like value, efficiency, and ratios.
Alexia rarely inquired about frontline situations unless Samuel Young specifically requested it. However, seeing him display information on "consciousness transmission," she couldn't help but feel puzzled.
Samuel Young furrowed his brow slightly, taking some time to clarify things for Alexia. After quickly browsing through the information on "consciousness transmission," he began considering the practicality of the Bose-Einstein condensate.
First of all, he absolutely would not follow the path of weaponization like Moldova in *The Netherworld*, which was inhumane. Nor would he subject his soldiers to endless suffering.
Although Samuel Young was not a true scientist, as someone who had lived for nearly two centuries, his knowledge base far exceeded that of ordinary people. It's worth noting that in the early to mid-20th century, he spent his leisure time reading numerous books.
Many of the current company's research projects were personally overseen or advised by Samuel Young, though fields like chemistry, biology, and neurology were his weaker areas.
Faced with the mature technology to mass-produce the Bose-Einstein condensate, Samuel Young did consider its weaponization, which is why he needed Alexia's assistance.
However, using the condensate solely as a weapon would be too wasteful.
The properties of the condensate could accelerate Atlas's research in the superconductivity field, serve as a potential material for precision instruments such as atomic clocks and more advanced navigation systems, and be used in quantum computing and quantum model research.
Quantum technology is undoubtedly a revolutionary computing technology, far surpassing traditional computers in nearly every aspect. For humanity to continue advancing, "computation" is an essential component.
Quantum models would also aid Atlas in its antimatter research, helping to predict and observe the production, annihilation, and conversion of antimatter. If they succeed in improving the antimatter engine of the *Adventure Star*, Atlas might achieve true sub-light-speed travel, or even come infinitely close to the speed of light.
Finally, regarding weaponization, the original research department had been struggling to find suitable materials to replace the storage components of the Bio-Force Gun (BFG). The mass production of condensates would directly solve this problem.
"Boss, is the enemy on Earth-04 some kind of high-risk anomaly? Do the soldiers need to avoid contact during the mission?"
Hearing Alexia's question, Samuel Young stopped pondering the extended applications of the Bose-Einstein condensate and clarified, "The enemy does indeed pose a severe threat to our soldiers' lives, but they can't withstand a large-scale energy release. As for the Tyrants and clones, they're merely meant to act as 'clean-up crews' in the final stages, dealing with any remaining enemies."
While explaining this to Alexia, Samuel Young used his left hand to scroll through the screen, continuing, "I'll provide you with more detailed intelligence later. In the meantime, I want you and your core team to start discussing whether consciousness transmission technology and genetic engineering can be applied to the Bose-Einstein condensate."
"Condensate?" Alexia was momentarily stunned but quickly understood. "It's hard to imagine applying genetic engineering to the condensate, and the mass production of the condensate itself is a technical challenge, but it's worth a try. By the way, boss, which takes priority: the condensate or nanotechnology?"
"Nanotechnology. And your immediate priority is to calibrate the control terminals for the Tyrants to operate the cloned soldiers."
"Understood." With clear instructions, Alexia began mentally organizing her future research plans.
In Yemen Sana'a.
About sixty meters below the surface in an observation outpost;
The lighting here was dim, and the walls, floor, and ceiling were tiled to guard against those crazed humanoid condensates. Although it was called an outpost, the narrow space could only accommodate up to eight people.
Three soldiers sat behind a control console, monitoring the surface dynamics displayed on the screens.
Their desert-colored combat uniforms had faded from washing, and they wore outdated bulletproof vests and armor on key areas. Perhaps due to the poor ventilation inside the outpost, none of the soldiers were wearing the stifling helmets.
The firearms placed beside them were large and not suited for carrying. They had no traditional ammunition magazines, only a row of disposable battery packs. These were their plasma discharge guns, the only weapons effective against the condensates.
"I wonder how long our food supply will last."
The dead silence of the outpost was broken by the concern of a short-haired soldier.
"Six months." The sergeant with a stubbled beard responded without taking his eyes off the screen.
"Six months?" The private, chewing on a toothpick, spoke with a hint of despair, "Honestly, Sergeant, instead of starving to death, I'd rather go out and fight those ghostly things. I think being killed by them would be quick—shouldn't be painful."
"No one's stopping you," the sergeant replied.
"I don't agree with dying like that," the short-haired soldier shook his head, beginning to explain his view, "The Major said becoming a scavenger could get us more food. I plan to try it tomorrow. Even if I die, at least my daughter and son will receive some rations as compensation."
"Are you crazy? The first batch of scavengers from last week didn't return. Are you that eager to be part of the second batch?" The private was incredulous.
"Better than watching them starve," the short-haired soldier said with a bitter smile.
"."
Seeing this, the private could only shrug, offering no further argument.
The outpost fell silent once more.
The three soldiers remained focused on the screens, observing the surface area they were responsible for.
They had been living like this for seven years, from initial anxiety to numbness, and now to a life filled with despair.
Seven years ago.
To be precise, the events began nine years ago, on February 18, 2031, in Universe 04. A severe safety accident occurred at a nuclear power plant in Moldova, causing seven million deaths within six days.
The massive scale of the disaster shocked nations around the world, but the public information given to the soldiers was that the "nuclear accident" in Moldova had been contained, preventing further escalation.
Afterward, their garrison in Sana'a received orders to renovate nuclear shelters and prepare for the outbreak of war.
On August 6, 2031, an alliance led by the UK and the USA swiftly occupied Moldova, preparing to advance further east. However, this move crossed the line for the Eastern European side.
On August 12, the main forces of both sides clashed head-on in Vinnytsia, with both sides deploying "Netherworld Soldiers" (Aratare/humanoid condensates) in battle.
By August 18, the death toll exceeded thirty thousand.
By August 31, it soared to one hundred sixty thousand.
On September 3, after twenty-three days of the Vinnytsia Battle, both sides suffered heavy losses, and the conflict ended in a stalemate.
However, the impact of the battle quickly spread worldwide, with countless organizations choosing to use war as a means to divert attention from deteriorating economic conditions and internal conflicts—
World War III had broken out.
Many believe the Vinnytsia Battle was the spark that ignited the conflict, while others blame the UK and the USA for occupying Moldova and pushing further east.
At the same time, the large-scale leak of videos and images of the Netherworld Soldiers online made people realize that the "meat grinder" of war had been upgraded once again.
On January 24, 2033, the failure of espionage activities in Eastern Europe led to extremists within the UK and USA launching a nuclear strike on Latvia, marking the beginning of a global nuclear winter.
Most government organizations were wiped out, the population shrank by 60%, and only a few countries and regions remained relatively intact.
But before the survivors could recover, the completely insane and out-of-control Netherworld Soldiers began to spread rapidly, attacking any human or animal in sight.
Even though the survivors knew from pre-nuclear war networks that the Netherworld Soldiers couldn't penetrate ceramic and pure iron or withstand massive energy releases, they lacked the technology and resources to build effective defenses. Conventional weapons were useless, forcing them to retreat further underground.
As for the three soldiers on duty today, seven years ago, they were responsible for maintaining basic order in the city and guiding citizens to underground shelters.
Their main garrison unit had moved to the northern outskirts of Sana'a, preparing to intercept the advancing Netherworld army to buy more time for the evacuation.
The result was that within fifteen minutes,
the Netherworld army had crushed the main garrison, and the remaining soldiers in the city, along with their comrades, received the final order from their superiors: immediately seal the shelter.
In the end, only four hundred soldiers and over thirty-two thousand civilians managed to evade the Netherworld army seven years ago, surviving on pre-stocked supplies until now.
However, the shelter's ability to sustain itself was deteriorating. Now, with food and supplies nearly depleted, everyone in the shelter faced a choice: risk venturing to the surface for supplies or die.
But choosing to go to the surface for supplies was merely a temporary fix, and it increased the risk of exposure.
By now, the shelter's supplies might already be exhausted.
The private, having seen through the harsh reality, was no longer so afraid of death, whether it came sooner or later.
Beep-beep.
?!
The sudden alarm immediately tensed the three soldiers.
They quickly donned their helmets and rushed to the screen with the flashing alert. They discovered a large amount of activity in the northern outskirts of Sana'a. Checking the corresponding hyperspectral monitor, they found a massive number of Netherworld Soldiers—a countless horde!
!!!
Seeing the Netherworld forces heading straight for the northern entrance to the shelter, directly above their outpost, the sergeant didn't hesitate to sound the alarm and report to their commanding officer:
"Major! The Netherworld forces are attacking the northern wall. Wait, they've found a weak spot!"
"Understood, Sergeant. Evacuate your men to the western sector immediately. We will begin transferring by convoy." The major's order came through the comms.
"Transfer? What about the evacuation?" The sergeant asked.
"Don't worry about it. Evacuate, that's an order!"
"Yes, sir!" The sergeant had no choice but to comply. He picked up his plasma gun, turned to the other two stunned soldiers, and said, "You've heard the Major's order. Let's go, gather the remaining team and head to the western sector."
"I'm not following that order, Sergeant," the short-haired soldier refused without hesitation, raising his plasma gun as well.
"As you wish. Private Clann, let's move!" The sergeant didn't argue but turned to head down the emergency passage to the right.
The short-haired soldier, meanwhile, ran with all his might, soon passing through the dim corridor and arriving at the main shelter, where over thirty thousand people were gathered.
The shelter was divided into a network structure by a maze of corridors, walls, and zones.
Beep—Beep—!
The main shelter's alarm blared, throwing the already confused people into chaos.
"Hey! Slow down, kid!"
Just as the short-haired soldier was about to continue running, he heard someone calling out. Turning around, he saw the private catching up?
"Why aren't you going to the western sector?" Now it was the short-haired soldier's turn to be incredulous.
"Who knows... Maybe I'm just crazy." The private, panting heavily, chuckled and said, "It'll take at least three minutes for the western sector to gather. Why rush? But if I stick with you, your family's chances of survival might be a little higher."
"Thank y—"
Rii—Boom—!
The short-haired soldier was about to express his gratitude when he was interrupted by an earth-shaking explosion. Both of them were thrown to the ground.
The intense shockwave brought a series of symptoms like ear ringing, dizziness, and fainting. At the same time, the shelter lost power, and the dim red emergency lights flickered on.
Who knows how long it was before they finally struggled to stand again.
"Boom!" Another explosion came from the outpost where they had been stationed.
Could the Netherworld forces have already breached?
"I'll cover you! Go see your kids one last time!" The private gave no room for argument before running back down the dark corridor.
"Thanks!" The short-haired soldier didn't hesitate, shouting his thanks before continuing to sprint.
As the private, now leaning against the corner and activating his helmet's display, mumbled to himself about "playing the hero" and "why didn't I run," it was clear he was locked in an intense mental battle.
Tap, tap!
The sound of footsteps echoed through the corridor.
"Come at me!" But the extremely nervous private chose to charge around the corner, ready to pull the trigger.
Bang!
But before he could fire, a 20mm rubber shotgun round struck the private's right shoulder armor.
"Ah!"
The pain caused the private to drop his plasma gun, but he caught sight of the "people" who had fired, along with their comrades.
They were soldiers equipped with heavy mechanical exoskeletons and wearing red-eyed breathing masks, and their helmets played pre-recorded, mechanical phrases:
"Get down and surrender!"
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