The seventh minute after the Chaos Demon Flame exploded on the church spire, Talasa, commander of the eighth company of the Rong Lizard, had already emptied the third magazine of blast bombs. Through his tactical goggles, he saw a twisted metal tide three kilometers away engulfing the fourth armored battalion's defensive line—the Leman Russ tanks, originally belonging to the Imperial Guard, at this moment had bloody pustules growing on their turrets, and their tracks were crushing the remains of former comrades.
"How long can the Vibranium Gate on the second line hold?" He wiped the brain matter that had seeped into his goggles while the screams of engineers mixed with the buzzing of chainsaws came through his earpiece: "The mutation virus is corroding the energy pipelines! Estimated to be nine minutes and four..."
