The battlefield noise felt distant and muffled. I Am Not God leaned against the crater-pocked metal wall, breathing hard.
He'd just escaped a Chaos Space Marine's bolter, barely. The shot destroyed his cover, sending debris and shockwaves that threw him through the air. Somehow, he'd survived.
Death's cold touch still lingered on his newly spawned body.
As he caught his breath and checked his remaining equipment, a new icon appeared in the lower left of his vision. He'd never seen it before.
It was minimalist, almost crude: a steady dark gray glow with no fancy effects or notification sounds. Like a steel plate silently embedded in his interface.
He opened it with a thought.
A bare-bones attribute panel appeared.
[Recognition of Krieg]
[Status: Active]
[Attributes:
1. Unlock exclusive support shop [Krieg Direct]
2. All Death Korps soldiers (AI units) within 500 meters will prioritize your basic tactical commands (move, attack, defend targets)
]
[Description: Do you fear death? You do not. By earning this buff, you chose to face death head-on. The Kriegers recognize not your survival, but your attitude toward death. You've gained authority to spend 'Emperor's Fearless Copper Coins.' Command them freely, Commander. This is their mission and yours. Sacrifice is atonement. Expenditure is devotion.]
The text was blunt and direct. It carried a cruel religious logic. No congratulations or rewards, only a weighty sense of responsibility. It treated lives as calculable, expendable resources.
I Am Not God's fingertips went numb. Was it exhaustion or the weight of this "recognition"?
Did he fear death? After countless painful deaths and respawns, yes. But this recognition seemed to acknowledge something else: his choice to return to the battlefield again and again, despite that fear.
His hands trembled as he opened the new support panel: [Krieg Direct].
Other support shops had sleek tech icons, detailed unit descriptions, and dynamic previews. This page was exceptionally plain. The background was unadorned deep gray. The layout looked like an old military supply form.
At the top sat a single bold title:
[How many soldiers do you need to redeem?]
Below it was one input box:
[1 Credit = 1 Death Korps of Krieg Soldier]
After the box: a simple [Confirm Exchange] button.
Further down were separated wholesale packages with direct, unembellished names:
[Fearless Assault Package] (5,000 Credits)
Redeem one full Death Korps regiment (approximately 10,300 personnel) with complete command authority.
Basic Infantry: 9,000 (standard lasrifles, bayonets, demo charges)
Armored Vehicle Crew: 500 (heavy weapons, light recon vehicles)
NCOs/Special Squads: 700 (Commissars, heavy weapons teams, engineers, communications)
Suitable for frontal breakthroughs and high-intensity warfare
[Line-Filling Infantry Package] (3,000 Credits)
Redeem one light Death Korps regiment (approximately 10,000 personnel) with complete command authority.
Pure Infantry: 10,000 (basic lasguns/slug rifles; some equipped only with melee weapons, explosives, and basic armor)
Suitable for rapid defensive reinforcement, delaying actions, consuming enemy firepower. Maximum sacrifice efficiency.
[Emperor's Package] (6,000 Credits)
Redeem one reinforced mixed Death Korps regiment (approximately 13,000 personnel) with complete command authority.
Infantry: 8,500 (standard equipment)
Cavalry/Rapid Response: 1,000 (motorized infantry, assault squads, Death Riders)
Armor/Heavy Weapons: 2,500 (heavy bolters, mortars, possible Leman Russ tank support)
Command/Special Support: 1,000 (Commissars, artillery observers)
Combined arms force with superior firepower, mobility, and endurance. Best value.
No pictures. No demonstrations. Just numbers and descriptions that were brutal in their directness. "Line-filling infantry." "Maximum sacrifice efficiency." "High-intensity attrition warfare."
These phrases stripped away all pretense. They quantified lives as battlefield resources. Consumables.
I Am Not God stared at the panel. His credits (earned through battles and deaths) had reached a considerable total. Enough for even the most expensive package.
But holding this fortune, he felt no excitement. Only a suffocating sense of responsibility.
These weren't randomly generated game units without backstory. They were Kriegers. The silent ones who marched toward death without hesitation after a Commissar's speech. Now he had the authority to spend their lives.
His gaze fell on the input box. [1 Credit = 1 Death Korps of Krieg Soldier].
Credits were his rewards for combat, kills, and completed missions. Now these rewards could be exchanged one-to-one for silent lives that would obey his commands and march to battle.
It was a trade in human lives conducted through numbers. The currency was the "honor points" he'd earned in this brutal game.
He recalled Commissar Mors's words: "With our flesh and souls, we add another foundation stone to the Emperor's great work."
Was this another interpretation of "foundation stone"? Through commanders like him, the game converted credits (virtual merit) into concrete, successive sacrifices.
I Am Not God took a deep breath. The hive city's foul air stung his lungs. He closed the attribute panel. The dark gray [Recognition of Krieg] icon sat quietly in the corner of his vision.
He stood slowly, gripping his lasrifle. Artillery fire, explosions, and battle cries flooded back into his ears. Ahead, the massive Chaos Space Marine still rampaged. More Krieg soldiers (those silent gray figures) continued advancing, falling, filling the line.
He looked around. Several Krieg soldiers nearby were silently preparing for the next push. The hollow gazes beneath their gas masks turned faintly toward him, awaiting a command.
He had gained the qualification to spend.
And shouldered the consequences of that spending.
This wasn't a game shop. It was a commander's supply list. An altar's offering menu.
I Am Not God's expression shifted from shock and confusion to something complex yet resolute. He had to make a choice. Not whether to buy, but how to use this heavy, bloody recognition.
The meat grinder of Heralius Hive City awaited his injection of fresh fuel: gray flesh and blood.
۞۞۞۞
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