Chapter 789: Heading to the First Defense Zone Central Building (2)

Deep within the First Defense Zone Inner City.

In a "Biomass Resource Processing Center-7" permeated with the scent of disinfectant and faint excrement, the space is divided into standardized metal grid units.

Inside, it is packed with Humans wearing uniform, coarse gray jumpsuits.

Most of them have dull expressions and hollow eyes, sitting or lying on the cold floor.

The air circulation system emits a monotonous hum. Occasionally, Cyberk "Breeders" in white protective suits appear to dispense pasty Nutrient Paste or roughly drag away some weak individual.

Deep in the factory, huge transparent pipes connect to complex machinery, where pale bodies can be vaguely seen suspended, but the "products" here turn a blind eye.

They only care about the paste in front of them.

Boom! Clang—!

A heavy alloy maintenance passage door on the side of the factory is blown open by a massive explosion!

Accompanied by the painful neighing of warhorses and the heavy sound of hooves hitting the ground, a squad of blood-soaked Attila Barbarian Cavalry, numbering fewer than ten, charges in.

They charge too violently, knocking over several metal barrels and making a clattering noise.

The leading Attila Sergeant has his woolen long robe burned away, and blood has soaked through the leather skirt at his waist.

The warhorse beneath him is currently spitting bloody white foam from its nose and mouth, one hind leg a bloody mess with white bone exposed, twitching in pain with every step.

Behind him, some of the cavalry have arms hanging limply, held to the saddle only by leather straps; others have faces smeared with blood; the fur of their mounts is scorched, and some still have blood seeping from their abdomens.

The appearance of this Attila Squad instantly breaks the deathly silence of the factory.

"Hoo... hoo..."

The Chieftain gasps heavily, his bloodshot single eye scanning this vast space.

When he sees the gray figures with numb expressions locked in metal cages like lambs waiting for slaughter, an unbelievable shock and a rage that rushes straight to his head erupt in his single eye.

"The Emperor is above! What... what the hell is this place?!"

He roars hoarsely, his voice trembling with anger and pain.

"You! Are you Human?! They keep you like pigs?!"

His roar echoes through the empty factory.

Most of the "products" only slightly lift their heads, looking blankly at this group of blood-covered, uninvited guests, their eyes hollow.

Only a few young people near the edge of the passage show a faint glimmer of curiosity and fear in their eyes.

A small, thin boy nearby, huddled behind the railing, speaks timidly, his voice weak.

"You... you are bleeding... is it thundering outside?"

He is referring to the faint explosions coming from the distance.

"We are the Emperor's warriors! We came to kill those tin cans!"

A young Attila cavalryman nearby shouts excitedly, a wound deep enough to see bone on his face, blood flowing into his neck.

"The Emperor has broken through! You are saved!"

However, words like "Emperor" and "saved" are like gibberish to souls long kept in captivity whose consciousness has long been worn away.

Responding to them is only Silence and more blankness. Some even shrink back in fear.

The Attila Sergeant sees the bottomless numbness in the eyes of his compatriots, which hurts more than the wounds on his body.

"Damn it! No time!"

A one-armed cavalryman points to the broken door with his remaining hand and shouts a warning.

"Pursuers!"

Before the words are finished!

Swish! Swish! Swish!

Dense Energy Beams shoot in from outside the door.

Instantly covering the exhausted cavalry squad crowded at the entrance!

Splat! Splat!

Two cavalrymen, along with their horses, are pierced through by several beams.

After the warhorses let out a mournful cry, they collapse with a thud, warm blood and viscera splashing onto the alloy floor.

"Scatter! Fight them to the death!"

The Attila Sergeant roars as he rolls off his dying warhorse, grabs a Laser Gun from the ground, and pulls the trigger toward the door.

The surviving cavalrymen also have bloodshot eyes; some dismount to find cover, while others try to drive their wounded warhorses for a final charge.

Rat-tat-tat-tat—!

Boom!

Energy Beams and Armor-Piercing Shells shuttle and explode within the factory, striking metal railings and sending sparks flying.

Stray bullets hit several cages, and the "products" inside let out terrified screams, curling up desperately.

Splat!

A young cavalryman has half his head sheared off by an Energy Beam, his body falling limply.

A cavalryman roars and lunges at the Cyberk soldiers at the door, using his remaining body to block several beams, buying half a second for his companions.

"For the Emperor! For Attila—"

The Chieftain's final cry is cut short by several Energy Beams fired simultaneously.

His massive body trembles violently, his bloodshot single eye staring fixedly at those compatriots huddled in the cages with hollow eyes, as if wanting to pierce through that layer of numbness.

In the end, he falls heavily into a pool of blood with endless anger and unwillingness, beneath him his warhorse, which is still twitching and has not yet breathed its last.

Deathly silence.

The Cyberk soldiers walk in silently and begin to check the corpses to confirm the kills.

A cold electronic voice sounds: "Intruder unit: primitive Human armed forces. Quantity: 7. All cleared. Facility slightly damaged, currently repairing."

A thick scent of blood, ozone, and the stench of entrails permeated the air, overpowering the smell of disinfectant.

Scattered on the ground were broken weapons, blood-stained furs, and the carcasses of fallen warhorses and Human corpses.

Dark red blood flowed wantonly across the cold alloy floor, draining into the gutters.

Those "products" kept in captivity, after their initial screams, gradually grew quiet again.

They huddled together, their hollow eyes watching the corpses and warhorse remains being dragged away in the corridor by cold machines.

A few Cyberk "Breeders" pushed small carts over and began replenishing the various cages with new Nutrient Paste.

The thin, small boy who had asked the question before hugged his knees tightly, his body trembling slightly.

His gaze landed not far from his cage—there was a large pool of undried, dark red liquid mixed with human and horse blood, and beside it, a small, trampled, blood-stained fragment of a long robe.

The tiny spark of curiosity and fear in his eyes, stirred by the "bleeding" and the "thunder," vanished completely, leaving only a deeper numbness.

He silently reached out his hand, took the paste-like substance passed through the gaps in the bars by the Breeder, lowered his head, and began to eat it in small, mechanical mouthfuls.