While I Will Carry You was beating herself up over her clumsy commands, in another livestream, Scorchwind was diving deep into the new version of Battlefield: Warhammer 40k with his signature efficiency and exploratory spirit.
Scorchwind had chosen the Assault Priest, leading an elite strike team composed of 12 fire support servitors and 3 Skitarii soldiers.
Unlike I Will Carry You's awkwardness, Scorchwind's commands were like extensions of his own limbs.
His squad moved through the ruins of the upper hive like a surgical scalpel, precisely eliminating the small groups of Genestealers they encountered.
He reveled in this feeling of strategic mastery and decisive command, growing increasingly fascinated not just with the gameplay, but with the profound and dark worldview behind it.
During a brief lull in combat, the squad paused in a relatively safe area for tactical adjustments.
Scorchwind looked at the fire support servitors standing silently beside him, ready at any moment to execute his next order, and a long-standing question resurfaced in his mind.
"Guys, what do you think..." Scorchwind said to his stream camera while checking his radium rifle's energy, "these servitors... how exactly are they made? Look at their design, their movement patterns. They don't feel like pure robots, you know?"
As a tech-focused streamer, he had a natural sensitivity to machinery and programming.
These servitors obeyed commands, but they lacked the flexibility of true intelligent AI. They seemed more like they were executing a complex set of preset instructions.
"Probably just advanced robots?"
"It's the Warhammer universe, right? Tech tree went sideways, so this kind of half-mechanical thing isn't weird."
"Wind-bro, don't overthink it. If it works, it works!"
The chat speculated away.
But Scorchwind shook his head. He walked closer to a fire support servitor.
This servitor looked more threatening than the construction types, its torso mounted with twin-linked laser guns and powerful mechanical arms.
Yet Scorchwind's attention fell on the gaps at the neck where it connected to the torso, those spaces not completely covered by armor.
"No, look at the detail here..." He manipulated his character to reach out, trying to touch the vaguely visible non-metallic material in those gaps.
The instant his virtual fingers made contact with that material, Scorchwind felt, as if through his character's sensors, a... disturbing feedback.
It wasn't the cold, smooth touch of metal, but something with a subtle, almost leather-like texture, and even an extremely faint tremor, like biological static electricity.
"Wait... this feeling..." Scorchwind jerked his hand back, his character instinctively taking a step back in the game.
His expression shifted instantly from curiosity to shock, even tinged with undeniable horror!
"Skin... skin?!" he cried out, his voice warping with shock. "This thing... is a living person?!!"
The livestream chat exploded!
"What?! A living person?"
"Wind-bro, don't scare me!"
"How's that possible? They're robots!"
"The more you think about it, the scarier it gets! Could it be..."
Scorchwind forced himself to calm down, but his heart was still pounding.
He approached the servitor again, this time not casually touching it, but examining it carefully, with an almost anatomical scrutiny.
Under this close inspection, countless previously overlooked details flooded into his mind at once, connecting into a spine-chilling thread!
Those areas he'd thought were "biosynthetic skin" or "decorative coverings" now clearly showed structures and pores remarkably similar to human skin!
At certain joint connections, you could even see bone contours that weren't fully replaced by metal, distinctly human!
Especially the servitor's lifeless, mask-like "face." If you looked past the implanted sensors and respirator grilles, its basic structure was clearly a human skull stripped of all expression and autonomous consciousness!
"I... holy shit..." Scorchwind's voice trembled. He felt like he'd uncovered an incredibly dark truth.
"These aren't robots... this is literally weapons and control systems installed on living people!
They've removed their prefrontal cortex!
Stripped away their ability to think, feel, and exercise free will! Only kept the most basic brainstem functions to process combat commands and maintain vital signs!"
He pointed at the servitors' seemingly clumsy movements, which were actually limited by their biological bodies.
"That's why they're not very flexible! That's why they just robotically follow orders! Because they're not machines at all. They're a bunch of modified, enslaved... living corpses!"
The livestream chat went absolutely insane!
"Oh my God!!!!!"
"Ugh... I'm gonna be sick! This is too dark!"
"The Adeptus Mechanicus... they call this 'Praise the Omnissiah'?!"
"So those Skitarii soldiers... are they also..."
"What kind of hellish world is Warhammer 40k?! This is too bleak!"
"No wonder they call it the Dark Age... Jesus Christ..."
Scorchwind stood frozen in place, looking at the silent servitors around him that he'd once viewed as mere "tools."
Now he felt a chill shoot straight up from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head.
These loyal "soldiers" who would die at his command without hesitation had all once been living, breathing people!
The Adeptus Mechanicus had transformed them through "dedication" or even crueler means into this form, turning them into the most insignificant yet most bone-chilling consumables in war.
The game's hardcore brutality now went far beyond just gameplay mechanics.
It sank deep into the marrow of the setting itself, radiating a suffocating atmosphere of blood and despair.
Scorchwind took a deep breath, trying to calm his churning emotions. He looked again toward the dark, terrifying hive corridors ahead, his eyes completely transformed.
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