Zeus's grace is higher than the sky

One of the larger Zerglings suddenly stopped, a crack appearing in its head shell, spewing out a viscous green acid. The acid landed on the energy shield, hissing as its light visibly dimmed. Even more alarming to the soldiers was that another Zergling, after being shot in the leg, sprouted new limbs covered in a thicker layer of crystals within seconds, roaring as it continued its charge.

"The energy shield won't hold for much longer! Requesting backup!"

The communications soldier's voice trembled as the swarm of insects surged to the foot of the outpost, frantically ramming the fortifications with their spiked legs, cracks quickly appearing in the metal walls. Inside the outpost, the soldiers gripped their weapons, their faces contorted with despair as they watched the ever-evolving, seemingly endless swarm of insects outside the windows—they had never encountered such a bizarre and powerful enemy.

......

The psionic fluctuations, like gentle tides, enveloped the consciousness of Aiolos and Jane, presenting the scene they observed—the battle between the True Stinger and the Tyranids, their twisted evolution after devouring each other, and the fusion tumors writhing beside the stellar core rift—entirely onto the Golden Throne.

"The two insect swarms, which are focused on survival, take completely different paths. The Tyranids pursue the devouring and iteration of genes in order to perfect the life template of their swarm; the True Stinger insects are obsessed with reproduction and dispersal, maintaining the continuation of their species through numbers and adaptability."

His gaze seemed to pierce through the image, landing in the more distant void.

"What may seem like mere survival is actually a clash between 'selecting the best' and 'seeking survival'."

A slight ripple of psionic energy emanated from the insectoid swarm. Zeus had already told the Emperor that the True Stinger swarm was terrifying, a formidable force comparable to the Tyranids.

"Their fusion is a forced interweaving of two survival logics. If left unchecked, the new swarm will become a more troublesome threat than the Tyranids—possessing both the Tyranids' precise genetic evolutionary capabilities and the True Swarm's ubiquitous reproductive characteristics."

Finally, the tide of psychic energy receded slowly, leaving behind only a gentle instruction.

"I would appreciate it if you two could continue your observations. Before we understand the true nature of the new insect swarm, any intervention could trigger an uncontrollable chain reaction."

Without issuing any further instructions or asking for details, the Emperor's consciousness had already re-immersed itself in long contemplation of the threats to the universe, while Aiacos and Jane the Cataclysm's consciousness, carrying this weighty understanding, returned to the reality of their starship cabins.

the other side.

The starship hovered at the edge of the ruins, the tactical screens on the bridge glowing with the red indicator of the encrypted frequency band. The captain stood in front of the control panel, his fingertips swiping across the data transmission interface, packaging the images of the swarm's battle, the bio-maps of the fused tumors, and the quantum signal data provided by Xiao Ai and the other two one by one, his eyes solemn and frosty.

"All data is marked with 'Priority: Highest' and includes real-time battlefield coordinates. Encryption keys are used on a company-specific frequency band to prevent interception by the evil forces."

Bryce rapidly typed on the keyboard, the progress bar on the screen slowly climbed, and the data stream flowed into the void like a thin silver line.

"Connected to the supreme command relay station, transmission delay three minutes. Would you like to attach a battlefield briefing?"

"Concise and to the point".

The captain raised his hand and brought up the dynamic trajectory map of the fused swarm, explaining that "the Tyranids focus on gene consumption, while the True Swarms aim at racial reproduction; the fusion of the two produces an unknown mutant," emphasizing the current threat level—higher than a regular Zerg hive fleet.

Li Bao stood aside and added the radiation data recorded in the medical pod to the attachment: "The toxin analysis report of the mutant has been added. There is currently no effective neutralization solution."

The Burning Hatred One leaned against the bulkhead, his eyes fixed on the shimmering tumor outside the window, and added in a gruff voice: "Don't forget to write it down clearly. Those two 'energy creatures' provided crucial data, temporarily ruling out the suspicion of being followers of the evil god, but we still need to be vigilant."

The captain nodded and added a note at the end of the briefing: "It is recommended that the command send the Gene Think Tank and Quantum Technology team to provide support, as the existing equipment is insufficient to penetrate deep into the core of the mutant."

As he typed the last character, he pressed the transmit confirmation button, and a green message appeared on the screen saying "Data sent".

"While awaiting command's reply, maintain dynamic monitoring of the mutants." The captain turned to the four men. "Once we receive orders, immediately execute the next step—whether it's destruction or in-depth reconnaissance." The lights on the bridge flickered slightly as he spoke, and deep within the void, encrypted data was speeding towards the core area of ​​the supreme command.

Chapter 275 Grammer

The Grammer Empire, or more accurately, the Grammer Republic, is an interstellar empire nominally ruled by Empress Titania.

"The plan must be accelerated!"

"The risk assessment has already failed; rashly using this technology will only lead to destruction!"

"Hasn't Titania, the number 0 individual, already succeeded? That's enough to prove that this plan is feasible!"

"That's just a central entity. How can you guarantee that the Grammer Cavalry, which keeps multiplying like a breeding swarm, will remain under the control of the central entity?"

The true masters of the Grammer "empire" are at the round table.

They have argued many times about whether to implement a plan that is unprecedented and unlikely to be repeated.

The argument at the round table continued, with a member of parliament who supported the acceleration plan slamming his hand on the table, causing ripples to appear on the holographic projection beneath his fingertips.

"Titania's control has been stable for three months. If we hesitate any longer, the bugs on the border will invade!"

Just as the opponents were about to retort, the parliament doors were suddenly pushed open, and a communications soldier in combat uniform rushed in, his terminal screen flashing a glaring red alert.

"Urgent intelligence!" The communications soldier connected the terminal to the central hub of the round table, and the holographic star map instantly switched to the border battlefield scene—green acid seeped into the cracks of the outpost's defensive fortifications, the limbs of the Tyranids were tearing through the remaining light of the energy shield, and the data box in the lower right corner kept jumping with the latest battle reports.

"The border outpost has been attacked by an unknown insectoid race. The enemy is evolving at an extremely rapid pace, and conventional weapons cannot penetrate its outer shell. Requesting emergency support!"

On the screen, a Zerg limb severed by a pulse cannon was writhing on the ground, silvery-white crystals rapidly forming at the break, and within seconds, a new, serrated limb was regrown. The councilors at the round table fell silent instantly; the elderly man who had previously opposed the plan stared at the screen, his knuckles clenching unconsciously.

"This evolutionary efficiency... is even more harmful than the breeding colony."

This urgent report was like the last straw that broke the camel's back. The previously hesitant members of parliament lowered their eyes and pressed the confirmation button on the voting terminal.

When the voting results lit up on the holographic screen, the "pass" sign dominated the screen with an overwhelming majority.

The members of parliament who supported the expedited plan breathed a sigh of relief and were about to get up to order the process to proceed when the old man sitting at the round table in the center of the door finally spoke. His silver beard hung down to his chest, and his knuckles were calloused from years of holding a pen. His voice was not loud, but it made the entire parliament fall silent instantly, and even the faint light of the holographic projection seemed to freeze.

"Before the plan is approved, I would like to ask one last question—we are releasing these 'iron cavalry' today to plug the gap left by the Zerg, but if one day these iron cavalry break free of their reins and turn their swords against us, what will we use to fill this new hole?"

Upon hearing this question, the previously excited members of parliament fell silent, and even the supporters subconsciously straightened their backs.

All eyes were on the leader of the supporters. The leader took a deep breath, pushed up his glasses, and projected an encrypted file onto the table.

“We had a contingency plan. The core program of the Grammer Riders has a ‘trigger’ embedded in it. Once a signal of loss of control is detected and the trigger is activated, a special program will spread along the core circuit, causing all the Riders’ machines to lose their activity from the inside out—like gears that have been drained of all their energy, they will completely stop working in a short time. This is a safety measure that can eliminate all hidden dangers at once.”

The old man remained silent for a moment, his gaze sweeping over every tense face around the round table, finally settling on the distress signal from the border outpost on the holographic screen.

He slowly raised his hand, his fingertips lightly touching the command button on the table, his aged yet powerful voice echoing in the council.

"Now that the contingency plan is in place, there is no need to wait any longer—Operation Grammer Iron Cavalry shall be implemented immediately, with priority given to supporting the border and ensuring the defense line is held."

The moment the order was given, the lawmakers breathed a sigh of relief, and the discussion resumed—some were figuring out how to place their cronies in the Iron Cavalry management force, some were arguing about which department should take control of the subsequent operations, and others were staring at the parameters of the "trigger," figuring out how to modify the permissions and keep this safety net in their own hands.

Throughout the entire process, no one mentioned whether the "Grammer Cavalry" had any independent consciousness, nor did anyone regard them as independent individuals who might possess personality. In their eyes, these beings who were about to go to the battlefield were nothing more than "weapons" that were sharper than pulse cannons and stronger than fortifications, tools used to plug gaps and fight for power, nothing more.

On Zeus's side, the Greenskins' rampant expansion finally met with resistance.

Sitting behind the long metal table in the temporary command post, his fingertips traced the expanding territory of the Greenskin tribe on the holographic sand table. Just as he was marking the next resource point to be captured, the alloy door of the command post was suddenly kicked open.

Old Jiba, covered in oil stains, rushed in panting, clutching half a twisted piece of mech armor in his hand—the broken edge of the armor had a faint blue burn mark, and the edges still bore traces of melting from energy cutting.

"Boss! The east side has crashed!"

The old master slammed his armor down on the table, his voice tinged with impatience.

"A bunch of strange silver-white machines, their knives can cut through mech shells. The three teams we sent couldn't even get close to their defenses before they were driven back!"

Suddenly, a crackling sound came from the communicator next to the holographic sand table, followed by the intermittent roars of the green-skinned boy from the front lines.

"Boss! Their tanks... are bombarding our watchtower! Requesting backup! Requesting backup!"

Unknown "barbarian" signals

Inside the Supreme Command of the Republic of Grammer, a pale blue holographic battle report was playing in a loop the images transmitted back by the border troops—the moment when the energy blades of the silver-white mechanical soldiers sliced ​​through the green-skinned mechs, with a red label in the corner of the screen indicating "unknown creature race".

The operations staff handed an analysis report to the commander, his tone puzzled: "The advance team encountered not a swarm of true stinging insects or an unknown insect swarm, but a never-before-recorded group of creatures. They are robust in size, equipped with rudimentary yet extremely destructive mechanical armor, and their fighting style is savage and frenzied. There is no matching information in the database."

The commander frowned as he stared at the scene on the screen where the green-skinned boys were roaring and charging, tapping his fingertips lightly on the table.

"Never recorded? Could it be a race that has only recently appeared in this star system?" As soon as he finished speaking, another communications soldier rushed in and handed over the latest battle damage statistics.

"Three of the advance team's mechanized vehicles have been destroyed. Although the enemy's equipment is crude, their fighting spirit far exceeds expectations."

A brief silence fell over the command center as everyone's eyes were fixed on the green-skinned figures wielding chainsaws on the screen—this suddenly appearing "barbarian" force had clearly become another unexpected threat after the unknown Zerg.

Chapter 276 Iron Cavalry

"Oh, right, there's something else that I'm sure you'll be interested in, boss."

Old Jiba, panting heavily, left another string of oily footprints on the metal floor of the command post. He braced himself against the edge of the table with one hand, and with the other hand pulled out a tattered cloth bag from behind his back. With a "whoosh," he dumped the contents onto the table—more than a dozen silver-white metal fragments were scattered on the table, each of the broken pieces still carrying the residual warmth of not-yet-cooled metal, gleaming with a faint bluish-white luster.

"Look, boss!" He picked up a piece of shard with twisted edges and handed it to Zeus. His rough fingertips repeatedly rubbed the surface of the shard, his eyes showing a hint of confirmation.

"The shell of this strange machine is similar to that 'special fragment' you showed me before. The energy reaction and texture are just like it! They're both the kind of things that are hard enough to shatter chainsaw teeth!"

He placed the broken pieces on the table.

"But this thing isn't as powerful as the one you gave me, boss! We can blast it apart with our mech cannons, but that one of yours, I knew just by looking at it that it was hopeless—the shell was so tough, even if our chainsaws sawed until sparks flew, we couldn't even scratch it!"

Zeus picked up the fragments brought back by the old master and examined them carefully, a smile spreading across his face.

He shifted his gaze from the fragments to the old master, and asked calmly.

"Do you remember what these enemies were called?"

Upon hearing this, the old master immediately straightened his back, slammed his calloused fist heavily on the table, and his eyes revealed the green-skinned man's unique resentment towards the strong.

"How could I forget! We intercepted the communications of those silver-white machines several times! Their name is 'Grammer'! They dared to dismantle our mechs, I'll remember that grudge!"

"As expected, Metatron and Fanlou, prepare to depart!"

......

In the cold expanse of space, an Imperial cruiser adorned with crimson and gold insignia hovered in the shadows of the asteroid belt. Inside, the captain, clad in black power armor, peered through the observation window at the distant battlefield shrouded in smoke—the Grammer forces were clearing away the remains of the True Stinger.

"Target confirmed. Not a Chaos force, not an alien insectoid." The think tank director beside him pulled up the scan data, his voice coming through the helmet communicator.

"Their mechanical soldiers are collecting fragments of the True Stinger's carapace. The weapon's energy signature is biased towards conventional thermal and kinetic energy, and no psionic fluctuations have been detected."

The captain tapped his fingertip on the tactical terminal, zooming in to see the Grammer ship packing the remains of a true gnat into a sealed compartment.

"No intention to launch an attack; maintain covert observation."

He paused, his gaze falling on the Grammer soldiers' silver-white armor.

“Record their tactical patterns and equipment parameters, transmit the data back to Holy Terra, and await further instructions from the Emperor.”

The cruiser's engines ran at low power, like a lurking beast, silently watching the busy Grammer forces in the distance—the two sides were separated by tens of thousands of kilometers of void, with no artillery fire, no communication, only the silent observation of the Imperial advance team, which for the first time etched the figure of this unknown human force into the Empire's database.

The integration of the world brings with it more than just the material world.

The chaotic energy of the warp surged and churned. In Tzeentch's glass palace, countless floating mirrors reflected the images of the Grammer forces—silver-white mechanical soldiers clearing the battlefield, scenes of the council debating their plans, all rapidly swirling in the mirrors. Tzeentch fiddled with the stardust between his fingers, his hoarse laughter filled with amusement.

“A ‘creation’ that is bound by order yet harbors the potential for loss of control is truly an interesting variable.”

In the distant realm of the Blood God, Khorne's brass fortress was shrouded in crimson mist. His massive fist slammed into the war drum before him, the sound of which shook the entire realm.

The image of the Grammer cavalry fighting the real worms appeared on the drum surface. Khorne's scarlet eyes were fixed on the scene of the silver-white machinery tearing apart the worms' shells, and his heavy breathing was full of longing.

"The clash of metal and flesh! And the possibility of it getting out of control... This fury of war is worth watching closely!"

In Nurgle's garden, putrid slime flowed into streams on the ground, and in the fungal thicket beside them, a glowing spore projected the operational diagram of Grammer's "trigger." Nurgle lay on his abscessed throne, his withered fingers picking up a clump of rotting mycelium, his murky eyes sweeping over the diagram, his deep voice laced with mockery.

“Even the most perfect ‘insurance’ will fail one day under the influence of plague and corruption. When that day comes, I will let my baby ‘hug’ these metal dolls.”

In Slaanesh's palace of pleasure, beneath a dome woven with silk and flames, the power struggle among politicians in the Grammer Council is distorted and magnified. Slaanesh reclines languidly on cushions, his fingertips tracing the images in the air, his voice both sweet and dangerous.

"The desire for power, the obsession with control... these emotions are delicious. I want to see how long this 'toy' can wallow in desire."

The four dark forces of the warp have all turned their attention to Grammer—this human force from another world. Like a stone thrown into the warp's turmoil, it has aroused the different interests of the Chaos Gods and is destined to be drawn into a dark game far beyond their imagination.

......

"Everything is ready! Let's witness this historic moment!"

The temperature-controlled air in Grammer's top-secret laboratory was filled with the faint scent of nutrient solution. Outside the enormous culture tanks, dozens of holographic screens displayed a continuous stream of data, from neural synapse response rates to core consciousness synchronization rates; every parameter was approaching its preset threshold.

Inside the culture tank, Titania floated in a viscous nutrient solution, her long, silvery-white hair spreading out like seaweed, and the neural interface on her forehead shimmering with a faint fluorescence.

At first, her eyelids only trembled slightly.

The next second, her pupils slowly opened—there was no confusion, no helplessness, only a calmness like that of a precision instrument being calibrated, quietly reflecting the cold metal walls outside the culture tank.

Her gaze slowly swept across the surrounding environment, from the scrolling code on the screen to the "Central Body No. 0" markings engraved on the bulkhead, every detail was clearly captured.

The nutrient solution rippled gently with her breathing, and she felt a subtle electric current through the tubes connected to her wrist and neck. She only slightly raised her fingertip, and the neural synchronization rate on the screen instantly jumped to 100%, emitting a crisp notification sound.

Without crying or questioning, Titania's first opening of her eyes was more like the startup of a long-dormant core mainframe—calm, precise, and carrying an almost indifferent sense of order that did not belong to "newborns," announcing the official awakening of the core of the Grammer Iron Cavalry Project.

Chapter 277 Grammer (Part Two)

Deep within the Golden Throne of Holy Terra, the Emperor's consciousness pierced the psionic barrier, gazing at the churning darkness of the warp. Tens of thousands of years of entanglement with the evil god had long since turned this standoff into an endless drain, and his eyes held a weariness that even starlight could not illuminate.

In the chaotic realm of the warp, the four evil gods were entangled in their thoughts, each drawing upon warp energy to send their powerful subordinates to Grammer.

Before the brass fortress of Khorne, "Angjath the Slayer" slammed his giant axe into the ground, crimson blood gushing from the crack cleaved by the axe blade. This man, who had been the guardian of the Skull Throne of Khorne long before humanity set foot in the stars, had become a name that the Demon Inquisition dared not utter aloud, thanks to his record of slaying countless alien heroes and tearing apart the defenses of three star sectors.

Khorne's roar echoed through the void: "Let the metal of Grammer be stained with blood!"

Angjas roared, his head thrown back, and countless bloodthirsty freaks behind him raised their weapons in response. These veteran killers stepped on the boiling waves of blood and rushed toward Grammer through the warp rift, each step sending sparks flying that scorched the void.

In Tzeentch's glass palace, "Carlos the Weaver of Fate" spreads his wings, his two heads staring at images of the past and the future respectively. He is one of the few high demons who returned alive from the Well of Eternity, having witnessed the rise and fall of the Ancients. He gained the ability to "see the past and predict the future" by devouring fragments of time and space, and has been Tzeentch's most trusted oracle for tens of thousands of years.

Tzeentch's stardust fell on him: "Go and tangle Grammer's threads."

Carlos let out a strange laugh, and the mutated lords behind him manipulated the warp storm, transforming into a streak of light that pierced through the fork in the Grammer Future Line.