The clamor of the battlefield was instantly replaced by an eerie silence. Militech soldiers, who had been firing fiercely, discovered with horror that the aiming assist HUD on their weapons immediately went dark, and their tactical goggles were covered in chaotic static.
However, this was just the beginning.
A sharp, abnormal whine emanated from within them; it was the final mournful cry of their military-grade cybernetic core, which was essential for their survival and combat.
Immediately after, the pungent smell of burning spread from their neural interfaces and joint connections. Overloaded currents instantly burned out the precise control circuits and sensory components, causing the powerful military cybernetics on their bodies to instantly become paralyzed, rendering them incapable of combat.
The drones buzzing in the air, attempting to find new firing angles, had their internal control systems overwhelmed by an irresistible stream of commands in the same microsecond. Their navigation chips burned out, their rotors stopped, and like insects crushed by an invisible hand, they fell from the sky, scattering into fragments on the sand and ruins.
The two mechs advancing with heavy steps suddenly went dark, their crimson optical sensors dimming like snuffed cigarette butts. Their massive bodies jerked to a halt, the hydraulic systems in their joints hissed as pressure was released, and tiny electrical sparks shot out from the cracks, before they became completely rigid, turning into two piles of silent scrap metal.
Even the combat robots, which lacked direct neural interfaces and relied on internal program control, seemed to have collectively contracted some fatal electronic plague.
Their logic cores were violently tampered with, and their programs descended into complete chaos: some spun wildly in place until their motors burned out and emitted black smoke; others mistakenly identified friendly units as threats, turning their guns on other paralyzed robots or immobile soldiers.
Although most weapons had also malfunctioned, this scene only intensified the confusion and despair.
All Militech personnel who were still conscious and whose brains had not been directly burned out, at the same time, heard a cold, emotionless voice, like the grinding of rusty gears, through their still partially functional auditory cybernetics or built-in communicators.
This voice was directly imprinted on their perception: "Wipeout."
In just an instant, the Militech Action Squad, which had been aggressive and held an absolute advantage, was completely paralyzed and thrown into chaos.
Only a very few infantrymen, who had almost no complex cybernetics installed and wore only basic bulletproof vests, could still move with difficulty. But they too were utterly terrified by this bizarre, god-like spectacle, their hands clutching their guns trembling violently, standing in place at a loss, having lost all will to fight.
"I—what the hell?" Rebecca's mouth hung open.
At this moment, Osiris' voice rang out in the team channel, still in his calm, unruffled tone, but the content was unequivocal: "Maine, take that modified soldier, those two mechs, and all the weapons and electronic equipment I've marked, and load them onto that hovercar that's still operational."
As he spoke, high-lighted markers automatically appeared on the team members' visual interfaces, indicating the items to be recovered and the "reawakened" hovercar, whose engine now emitted a low rumble.
"You'll take it back," Osiris added. "Now."
"Understood! boss!" Maine reacted immediately, suppressing his shock and beginning to direct everyone. "Quick! Do as the boss says! Get the stuff into the car! Dorio, you're on alert! Rebecca, Pilar, don't just stand there!"
Everyone immediately sprang into action, quickly loading the unconscious modified soldier, key components disassembled from the mechs, and various marked weapons and equipment debris onto the hovercar suspended in the open space.
On the other side, in the Militech command center, the virtual conference room was deathly silent.
All monitoring screens had either turned to static or were frozen on the last chaotic scene.
All contact with the forward action team was completely lost.
"Report—we—we've lost signal from all units," the operator's voice was dry. "Including drones, robots, mechs—and the 'Switchblade' squad. The last received feedback was a large-scale, indiscriminate electronic overload..."
The Action Supervisor slammed his fist on the control panel, his face ashen.
He didn't even know who the enemy was or what methods they had used.
The opponent had, through the network alone, instantly and completely destroyed his well-equipped action squad.
This kind of power was beyond his comprehension.
The Biotechnica observer also looked pale, muttering, "This kind of network intrusion capability... Blackwall... It must be related to Blackwall—"
They watched helplessly as, in the last blurry footage, Maine's crew loaded their most advanced experimental cybernetic soldier, the mech wreckage, and other equipment onto a hovercar that should have been paralyzed. Then, the hovercar, unmanned, took off smoothly, turned south, and disappeared into the night of the desert.
Maine's crew, squeezed into the somewhat cramped hovercar cabin, looked at the rapidly passing desert outside the window, their emotions complex.
The relief of surviving, awe of Osiris' power, and worry about future uncertainties intertwined.
"Damn it, we almost bit the dust this time," Pilar muttered, still shaken.
"We'll settle accounts with Faraday when we get back," Maine's voice was low, tinged with killing intent.
Rebecca, meanwhile, stroked her plasma pistol, her eyes gleaming: "But what the boss just did was so damn cool! He took care of everything in an instant!"
Dorio silently examined the almost healed shallow mark on her arm, feeling the surging power within her body.
Kiwi, far away in the city, only regained control of her body after Osiris' consciousness withdrew. She slumped in her chair, cold sweat soaking her back.
That brief feeling of being "possessed" made her profoundly realize the terrifying nature of that "boss."
She no longer dared to hesitate for a moment, immediately began packing her things, and contacted a vehicle to leave the city.
Night City was no longer safe for her; she had to quickly go to the Abandoned Town and rendezvous with Maine and the others.
This failed encirclement operation, like a heavy hammer, left the executives of both companies feeling unprecedented shock and—greed.
Losing a squad and equipment was certainly painful, but the technology displayed by Maine's crew, or rather, the entity behind them, made them salivate.
Powerful energy weapons, biological enhancement technology beyond comprehension, and most crucially, and most terrifying, that network intrusion capability that could instantly paralyze all electronic equipment.
This was no longer just the petty squabbles of street mercenaries; behind this, there must be a formidable force or individual possessing cutting-edge, perhaps even epoch-making, technology.
Militech and Biotechnica quickly reached a deeper level of secret cooperation.
They needed to mobilize more resources, more covert methods, to uncover the truth and seize this power.
The undercurrents of Night City, due to this brief skirmish on the edge of the desert, became even more turbulent.
And in the Abandoned Town workshop, Osiris had already turned his attention back to the data analysis of the dimensional transponder.
For him, this small conflict was just an interlude, an opportunity to test the reactions of local forces and collect real-world data.
He had obtained some good "samples" and had a rough understanding of the corporations' bottom lines and methods.
"I hope these 'samples' can bring some valuable data," he said, looking at the hovercar gradually approaching outside the workshop, his crimson optical lens flickering slightly. "As for the corporations' retaliation—if they are smart enough, they should know when to stop."
If they weren't smart enough, he wouldn't mind making them pay a more profound price.