Ghost Bat Gambit
There were several reasons why Ghost Bats had become a terror to Space Marines.
But the most terrifying aspect was their stealth—not their ability to hide, but something far more insidious.
A body twenty meters long, with wings spanning thirty-five meters when spread—bigger than most fighter jets—yet it moved with barely a whisper. And its speed was monstrous. Without engines like a fighter jet, it could still accelerate to eight hundred kilometers per hour.
By the time you spotted it, the Ghost Bat was already vomiting the Corrosive Worms it nurtured inside its massive frame.
Despair hit like a tidal wave.
And it was happening right now.
Shiiieek!
A single Ghost Bat streaked through the high sky, cloaked in stealth, moving at blinding speed.
Suddenly, it folded its wings and dove, accelerating like a missile.
In that insane acceleration, the Ghost Bat locked onto its target—a Cyclops command designating a distant Battle Tank.
It looked like a speck to the naked eye, but the Ghost Bat didn't care. It had no eyes anyway. Like a bat, it used special sonar pulses to detect prey, precise enough to find Space Marines in a raging sandstorm. Spotting a hulking Battle Tank was child's play.
The moment it locked on, the invisible beast's body began to swell.
A small hole opened in its mouth.
Whoosh!
Spear-like Corrosive Worms spewed from the hole.
To tank crews and armored vehicle operators, these were nightmares incarnate. Their corrosion was deadly, but worse—they were alive. A hit didn't just eat away at the spot; the worm burrowed fast, dissolving everything in its path until nothing was left. No countermeasures? Total annihilation. Even a graze could cripple a vehicle fatally.
The Ghost Bat was certain: that Battle Tank was scrap metal now.
Kiririririk!
For the first time, the silent monster screeched—a victory cry.
Then it felt it.
Krunch!
Its Corrosive Worm swarm struck true!
And then it heard it.
Screeeee!
Screeeee!
The air screamed as the Thunder's railgun fired, the shockwave ripping through everything.
The world around Kim Seo-jun's squad shook violently.
But Seo-jun's eyes stayed locked on target amid the chaos.
As the tremors faded, he heard it.
"Hit confirmed!"
Private Park Bo-seop's voice.
"I heard the impact clearly!"
From outside, where Major Lee Hye-na was reinforcing the supports, her voice rang out.
"Insane!"
She gasped in shock. And for good reason.
"He actually pulled it off!"
After hitting the Chinese HQ, Kim Seo-jun had prepped several contingency plans. He'd called one a "gamble," not a true operation.
Bait an empty Battle Tank shell in a likely spot, lure a Ghost Bat, then snipe it the instant it attacked.
No one would call that a strategy—it was pure luck. That's why he'd dubbed it a gamble.
But it worked. They'd bagged a Ghost Bat.
"Sergeant Kim Seo-jun! Incredible!"
Park Bo-seop stared at him in awe, more excited than ever.
Then he saw it: no trace of joy on Seo-jun's face.
There was a reason.
No notifications.
The Status Window gave no signs. The Ghost Bat was still alive.
Seo-jun knew: direct hit, probably critical damage. But he didn't underestimate Mogs.
"Plan change."
"Sir?"
"Private Park Bo-seop, take Major Lee Hye-na and get out of here."
They both shared the same question.
Before they could ask, Seo-jun answered.
"I'll finish off the Ghost Bat."
Shock hit them.
"Sergeant Kim!"
"That's too dangerous!"
He knew better than anyone how insane it was.
The Chinese HQ would realize the trap any second and send everything after them.
But Seo-jun knew.
"The Chinese control Mogs with eerie perfection right now. Letting that Ghost Bat live is too risky."
What he had to do to survive.
"That's an order."
Decision rights were his now. They didn't argue.
Instead, they thought:
'Getting clear fast helps Sergeant Kim most.'
Better to evacuate than play hero. They moved.
Park Bo-seop dashed out. Seo-jun stored the Thunder in inventory.
He pulled out a hoverbike—Wuryong—as Park fired it up, loaded Hye-na, and sped off.
No goodbyes. Every second counted for distance.
Seo-jun understood. He summoned his own hoverbike and raced toward the crash site.
There—he spotted it. Something writhing far off. The wounded, uncloaked Ghost Bat.
And circling it: recon drones.
He dropped prone, rifle ready.
He knew: firing would draw them.
Didn't matter.
'Stealth and Teleport—I won't die.'
He had the tools. No hesitation. Revealing skills sucked, but hesitation killed. He'd learned that the hard way.
One priority:
Kiri, kiriri...
Turn that death rattle final.
He squeezed the trigger.
Shiiiing!
The Gauss rifle spat rounds with its signature whine. Recoil bucked him—but less than before, thanks to boosted Strength.
Shiiiing!
Near-zero delay for the next.
Shiiiing!
Three shots. Drones finally reacted.
Whiiiir!
[Ghost Bat killed.]
"Stealth."
He vanished.
"Teleport."
Chain-teleports shifted him five hundred meters away. He watched.
Better to gauge drones before moving rashly.
Or...
'Down those recon drones...'
Recon drones were precious in space. Harsh voids demanded top durability—and cost. Bases had few.
Repairs were hell. Rarely deployed in swarms.
Twenty-three here. Downing them? Major blow.
Not easy. Firing revealed position. Teleporting still exposed skills.
He weighed: skills vs. drones. Worth it?
Then—
[Acquired 2,000 points.]
Seo-jun's eyes gleamed. No hesitation.
'Three thousand points now.'
"Buy Silver Ticket."
[Congratulations! Drew Gold grade.]
[Skill Upgrade Ticket (C) acquired.]
His eyes lit up. Upgrade chance for Stealth or Piercing Vision—both D-rank.
'Stealth.'
Perfect timing. But he held off.
"Use Gold Ticket."
[Drew Telekinesis (F) skill.]
'Huh?'
The scales in his mind tipped.
'Telekinesis?'
He eyed the drones. Memories flashed: a drone operator bitching about touching rotors. "Sensitive as hell! Break it and you're paying—costs more than you!"
Decision made. Rifle down.
'Lightly nudge the rotors.'
Nothing visible. Drones hummed on.
But his face: shock. Then—
"Use Skill Upgrade Ticket on Telekinesis."
Private Park Bo-seop and Major Lee Hye-na gunned it.
Vroooom!
Jennifer Cho's upgrade made Wuryong untouchable.
They hit the rally point, waiting for Seo-jun.
"Sergeant's late."
Park's face was worry lines. Not hours—over five past schedule. No comms.
Hye-na said nothing. No need.
'Six hours? Storm the Chinese HQ.'
She was ready. Park too.
Time hit. She glanced at him.
"Start her up."
"Yes, ma'am!"
No questions. He mounted, fired up.
Vroooom!
Park killed the engine.
Thirty minutes later: Seo-jun, unscathed.
"Sorry I'm late."
They grinned.
"You're safe—that's what matters!"
To his squad:
"Was drone fishing. Couldn't pass it up."
"Sir?"
They tilted heads.
"Drone fishing? You downed drones? Holy shit."
Park gaped. Hitting drones with rifle fire? Beyond normal Space Marines. Even for Seo-jun, epic.
"Not downed."
"Huh?"
"Fished."
As he opened his mouth to explain—
Coded? Bad news.
His gut was right.