On the Allied Forces' front lines, countless soldiers instinctively turned their backs or held their shields firmly in front of them.
Yet a few unlucky ones, reacting slightly slower, were left tearing up from the sudden burst of blinding light, crouching on the ground and cursing loudly.
On the giant virtual screen overhead, the visuals and reality achieved stunning synchronization.
Countless flaming metal shards were ascending against gravity.
The fragments spiraled rapidly around the girl, converging and beginning to interlock and assemble in a way that completely defied the laws of physics.
First, the legs.
Silver-white armor plates locked into place piece by piece, with mechanical joints unfolding, interlocking, and sealing.
Hydraulic drive system pipelines embedded precisely into grooves, as emerald green energy surged wildly through the translucent tubes.
Then came the waist, torso, chest armor, and arms.
The assembly of each piece of armor was precise down to the millimeter.
The metallic clangs of the locks, dense as drumbeats, merged into a thunderous roar like falling rain.
Finally, the helmet.
The faceplate closed silently from both sides, and the T-shaped visor in the center suddenly lit up with a cold emerald green beam.
The BGM changed.
Stirring strings poured down from the void, accompanied by heavy drumbeats: [Nevermore].
The tragic yet stirring melody instantly swept through the entire canyon, drowning out the Swarm's buzzing, the clashing of metal, and all other noise.
The entire battlefield seemed to have become her own personal stage.
The flames receded.
The light converged.
The nauseatingly foul wind from the sea of insects once again filled everyone's lungs, but no one cared anymore.
Because the one standing on the platform was no longer that frail young girl.
A nearly three-meter-tall combat mecha now dominated everyone's entire field of vision.
The mecha was entirely silver-white, its surface covered in honeycomb-shaped cooling vents.
Its lines were sleek.
Every curve was so smooth it seemed born for slaughter.
Every inch of its surface silently spoke two words: slaughter.
The cooling fins on the sides of its shoulder armor opened slightly, emitting wisps of white steam.
On its back, two massive thrusters resembled folded metallic wings, their nozzles pulsing with a ghostly green particle stream.
Each pulse made the metal platform beneath its feet groan under the unbearable weight.
It was a beast crouching for its final pounce.
In each hand, it held a giant battle blade as tall as a person.
The blades were entirely emerald green and translucent, as if forged from solidified aurora.
The air around the blades was visibly distorting, not from high heat, but from pure energy density tearing at the light itself.
The Mecha, "Sam."
It stood there silently before everyone.
The Allied Forces soldiers, who had just opened their eyes from the dazzling light, did not react with awe or fear.
Instead, it was a primal shiver, originating from the depths of their genes.
The pressure brought by the sea of insects was a suffocating despair built from sheer numbers.
But what this Mecha brought was pure, industrially optimized destruction given a concrete form.
"Sis... Sister?!"
Lin Xiyue's voice was trembling.
Not from fear, but from shock so profound her linguistic system was on the verge of short-circuiting.
She had seen it.
In the school's Teaching Dungeon, she had seen her sister transform into a Mecha.
But last time, she changed directly!
She went from human to a hunk of iron without any middle step like the school uniform changing or the Chuunibyou moment of holding a beetle and shouting a slogan!
"Your Mecha form... actually has two stages?!"
Lin Xiyue's voice cracked.
"How did you just transform directly last time?! Can this whole sequence be skipped?!"
No one answered her.
Su Wan stared at the Mecha, her Mage's professional instinct forcing her brain to automatically analyze the energy fluctuation spectrum.
Three seconds later, she gave up.
The energy level of this thing had completely exceeded her perception range.
It was like using a mercury thermometer for body temperature to measure the surface of the sun.
Utterly pointless.
Xia Lian...
Xia Lian was recording, never stopping once.
At this moment, the hand holding her phone was unnervingly steady, her professionalism overriding all personal emotion.
"I... I got it."
Her voice trembled slightly, but the phone remained perfectly still.
"...This is just too cool."
The words were so soft only she could hear them.
After speaking, her cheeks flushed completely red.
Fortunately, on the chaotic battlefield, no one had the time to notice her expression.
Hao Chi slumped to the ground.
His goggles were cracked, his hair blown into a bird's nest by the heat wave, and he was covered in dust.
He looked up at the sci-fi Mecha, his lips trembling several times before he finally managed to squeeze out a complete sentence.
"A Priest?"
His voice was airy, like a wandering ghost.
"You call this a Priest?"
High above in the Nine Heavens.
The White Tiger Phantom, a towering figure that seemed to hold up the sky, was using Geng-Metal Qi to slaughter the main force of the Insect Tide.
Its molten gold tiger eyes had never strayed from the three Broodmothers for a single moment since the battle began.
They were its prey, and also its chains.
The duties of a Celestial God demanded it nail the highest threats to the spot, allowing no distraction and no slackening.
But at this moment, those golden tiger eyes broke precedent and shifted.
Just for an instant.
Its gaze swept downward, crossing the thousand-foot canyon, piercing through the Swarm and the smoke, and landing precisely on the tiny silver silhouette at the front of the Allied Forces' position.
A three-meter-tall Mecha, in the scale of a Celestial God, couldn't even be considered a toy.
But that energy signature...
It didn't belong to any known system in this world.
Not elements, not Divine Power, not psionics.
It was pure.
So pure that only the concept of "destruction" remained.
The vertical pupils of the White Tiger Phantom's eyes constricted ever so slightly.
This was the instinctive reaction of a supreme predator, smelling the scent of a strange kindred spirit for the first time in its long hunt.
Not vigilance.
But interest.
Afterward, its gaze locked back onto the Broodmothers.
Metal Qi gathered once more.
The slaughter continued.
-
Below the canyon.
Inside the cockpit of the Mecha "Sam."
Lin Qingyue's perspective had completely changed.
Her consciousness no longer observed the world through human eyes.
In their place was a cold, emerald-green data stream interface that covered her entire field of vision.
Within this view, every Mantisfolk was marked as a pulsing red triangle, densely packed and filling her entire tactical display.
[Target Area Scan Complete]
[Effective Units: 243,247]
[High-Tier Units: 7,476]
[Aerial Units: 80,331]
[Threat Rating: Extremely High]
[Recommended Response Strategy: Total Incineration]
The number of effective units continued to jump wildly every second, increasing rather than decreasing.
The distant Beehive was like a non-stop assembly line, continuously spewing out new reinforcements.
Ambient temperature, wind speed, a three-dimensional terrain model of the canyon, friendly unit positions, crossbow firing arcs, a heat map of Swarm density...
All information was analyzed, organized, and prioritized by the combat AI within milliseconds.
This wasn't Lin Qingyue's first time experiencing this sensation.
But this time, transforming with a card was far more powerful than the random activations from "Melody Beyond the Strings" before!
No noise of emotion.
No signal lag from fear or hesitation.
Every decision node was compressed to the shortest path, and every hydraulic actuator awaited the optimal command.
Efficiency.
Precision.
Destruction.
These three words were the entire reason for "Sam's" existence.
A voice, electronically distorted, boomed from the Mecha's external speakers.
It had no inflection, no emotional color, and every syllable was cut with sharp, distinct edges.
"Sam, in position."