"Which three?"
"The first—and strongest—was Gamma Base, built before the apocalypse under the military's leadership and heir to the country's entire system."
"The other two were founded by two mighty Fifth-Rank Awakened who rose during the apocalypse itself."
"Their ideals clashed with Gamma's, so each created his own power."
"One occupies the west: Divine-Punishment city, established by the Thunder Emperor. The other dominates the south: Indomitus Fortress, founded by the Sovereign."
Gamma, Divine Punishment, and the Firmament.
Three names representing the apex of post-apocalyptic human civilization—three kings atop the pyramid.
"Gamma, Divine Punishment, Firmament."
Inside the Command Center, Steve and General Randy silently repeated the three names that stood for humanity's peak.
Those three bases would inevitably become their ultimate opponents when they conquered this world.
Especially that base called Gamma.
A colossus that had inherited the pre-apocalyptic state machinery.
Inside it would be intact industry, research, military, even social-mobilization systems.
Its depth and potential were not something the other two bases—built around lone powerhouses—could match.
Just then Steve caught a key detail in Zack's earlier words: energy crystals.
"Have him ask if those crystals that strengthen Awakened can be mass-produced—or used to breed Awakened in batches."
Steve ordered the comms officer.
In the interrogation room the Shadow Marine Warrior spoke again.
"Can energy crystals be mass-produced?"
Zack instinctively nodded.
"Yes."
At that affirmative, everyone in the Command Center perked up.
"What method?" he pressed.
"Normally, top-grade crystals only drop from powerful special Mutated Zombies."
Zack explained.
"But there's another way: use a device called an Energy Extractor to draw the thin energy inside ordinary Zombies and condense it into crystals artificially."
Energy Extractor.
The Shadow Marine Warrior continued.
"Where can we get those extractors? Are they easy to build? Roughly how many Zombies to make one crystal?"
"I don't know about manufacturing."
Zack shook his head.
"Only a handful of major powers hold that tech. Efficiency depends on the extractor's grade."
He gave an example.
"Our Base's unit is the lowest grade—about a thousand ordinary Zombies to squeeze out one First-Rank crystal of the poorest quality."
"But I hear the top extractors the Big Three use need only a hundred Zombies to strip every drop of energy."
A hundred-to-one ratio.
Hearing that number, Steve and General Randy felt a pang of regret.
If they'd known those worthless-looking Zombies were walking energy mines, they wouldn't have carpet-bombed with Thermobaric Bombs.
What they'd blown up wasn't zombies—it was thousands of easily harvested energy crystals.
Then the Shadow Marine Warrior's next question swept every trace of regret away.
"Hold on—your Base has an Energy Extractor too?"
"Yep."
Zack nodded.
"I need your base's exact coordinates."
By now Zack was a lamb to the slaughter; he spilled everything without holding back.
"From the Tyrant battlefield head west about fifty kilometers. You'll see an abandoned steel plant—that's our base."
When those words came through the simultaneous interpreter into the Command Center,
Steve and General Randy exchanged a look.
Both saw the same unmasked, hunter-spots-prey heat in the other's eyes.
Seize it.
They had to grab it and take it apart.
If they could decode the tech—even improve it—
they could pump out energy crystals nonstop for their Zombies, Endermen, and the rest,
letting them awaken mighty abilities in bulk.
What terror would a modern army of super-soldiers be then?
Steve had no intention of giving the crystals directly to the american troops; the main fighting force would still be Minecraft mobs, so the mobs would use them.
The soldiers could take enhancers to handle those stronger bodies.
"No more waiting."
Almost in unison the two reached consensus.
"Randy, let's toy with the Tyrant for now—no strategic missiles yet."
Steve said decisively.
"Too much noise might alert the Big Three. Our primary target has changed…"
"Eh who cares, we'll probably nuke their asses anyway..." said Randy.
The Fortress, underground training ground.
Several fully mustered elite units, not yet sent to the Other World, carried out the same dull daily drills.
World Zeta was still in its infrastructure phase; it didn't need many fighters.
Many warriors itching for glory felt their strength had no stage.
Suddenly a piercing assembly siren blasted through the training ground.
A clear order rang from the loudspeakers in every ear:
"First, Third, Fifth Special-Warfare Brigades—everyone, move to the Soul Link Center immediately. Prepare for Other-World conquest."
"What?"
"A mission?"
"Great—our turn at last!"
"We're finally out of gum to chew!"
In an instant the whole ground erupted.
Every soldier's eyes flashed with excitement.
They geared up at top speed and sprinted for the Soul Link Center… On a vast Overworld plain, thousands of towering Iron Golems had assembled, radiating cold killing intent.
Beside each golem stood five Shadow Marine Warriors ready for battle.
Overhead floated a flock of huge, drifting creatures.
Steve's will descended, issuing a terse order:
"Move out. Target: fifty kilometers west of the Tyrant battlefield."
"Sir!"
Watching the soldiers, Steve smiled inwardly:
"Wonder what kind of devastation a dozen-ton Iron Golem can cause dropping from a kilometer up?"