In low orbit above New Canaan, a space station hung like a forgotten metal coffin, its life support systems failing one by one.
Inside the sun-facing observation module, hundreds of stranded personnel crowded beneath the curved dome. Their breath turned to mist in the cold, mingling with the flashing red warning lights to cast a surreal, eerie glow.
Through the six-meter-high composite windows and panoramic dome, the death of the colony played out in suffocating clarity.
The purple-black creep of the Zerg slowly spread outward in a radial pattern across the planet's surface—like the universe injecting poison directly into New Canaan.
What the people in the station couldn't see were the translucent sacs swelling and bursting at the edge of the creep, from which waves of Zerglings poured out like a black tide.
The Zerg bio-fleet above formed a three-dimensional "web"—
Countless Overlords and bloated bioships belched acid mists, while flyers traced mucus trails through the vacuum. Massive Leviathans, like living asteroids, anchored themselves at key orbital points. Bioluminescent fluids oozed from the cracks in their carapaces, refracting sickly iridescence in the starlight.
Inside the station, alarms tore through the air every thirty seconds—
"Section C hull integrity compromised. Evacuation recommended."
"Warning! Hostile bioforms detected onboard!"
The sterile female voice clashed with the groaning of metal under stress, forming a terrifying duet.
Corrosive-smelling smoke suddenly vented from the ducts. The mesh filters on the overhead vents visibly disintegrated into rust-colored foam as they were eaten away by acidic secretions.
Then came the faint scraping inside the ventilation shafts—the metal tubes shuddered slightly, as if something slithered within.
A uniformed Terran officer stared out the window, watching the final Dominion battlecruiser engage its warp drive. Its exhaust flared a piercing blue as it was swallowed by an energy vortex.
"We've really been abandoned…"
He whispered, and the datapad in his hands clattered to the floor.
Just as despair prepared to devour the station's last breath—
The void several thousand kilometers away suddenly shattered.
Over thirty piercing blue rifts tore through the darkness like swords of judgment. Violent warp energies raged across the vacuum, ensnaring nearby Zerg bioships in lethal spatial turbulence.
Overlords and lesser ships were shredded before they could even issue a bioelectric alarm, their carapaces and acid sacs erupting in silence.
What broke through the fabric of reality first and descended into New Canaan's orbit was a ship to make any enemy tremble—
An Imperial Emperor-class battleship, clearly an enhanced variant. A twelve-kilometer-long temple of steel, its hull coated in crimson armor etched with molten-gold bloodline patterns—like it had bathed in the glory of countless wars.
At the prow stood a towering angel statue, metal wings unfurled. Each feather bore intricate Chinese scripture that shimmered with divine light in the sun.
Towering macro-cannon arrays lined both flanks like cathedral spires. The black muzzles hummed with latent power, glowing blue runes pulsing along their etched surfaces.
Trailing behind was an entire legion's fleet—
Four new-model cruisers formed a spearhead formation, their dark red hulls marked by golden teardrop sigils. Electromagnetic cannons at the bow were primed, their barrels arcing with blue-white voltage.
Twelve frigates and six destroyers created a defensive ring, their Gauss cannons fully loaded. In their missile silos, strategic metal-hydrogen warheads blinked red with armed status.
Farther out, four massive support ships opened their hangar bays. Tens—perhaps hundreds—of thousands of drones poured out, forming a deadly interception net across space.
On the flanks, over a dozen "small" one-kilometer-long assault and escort ships prowled like hounds. Their point-defense arrays constantly adjusted, ready to shred any approaching Zerg flyers.
Suddenly, the station's comms system was forcibly overridden. That metallic voice returned:
"All civilians aboard this station, this is the Ninth Company of the Blood Angels—'The Mourners.' For your safety, proceed to the central chamber immediately. Repeat: this is not a request. This is an order."
Each word carried the unshakable will of the Empire, engraved in steel.
Before the crowd could even react—
BOOM—BOOM—!
A reinforced blast door groaned under a thunderous impact. Its heavy alloy frame warped, and the hydraulic locks screamed under the strain.
Through the narrow viewport, they saw the corridor beyond: purple creep slithering forward, and waves of Zerglings and Hydralisks flooding the hall.
Their bone scythes scraped the walls with shrill shrieks, and their glowing yellow eyes gleamed with hunger in the dark.
"The door's gonna give! They're breaking in!"
A technician in a stained engineering uniform stumbled back, knocking over a rack of instruments. Metal parts and data slates clattered across the floor.
Bone spikes from Hydralisks began piercing the seams in the door, glinting ominously under the overhead lights.
At that same moment, the station's external monitors captured a breath-stealing sight—
Hundreds of thousands of drop pods poured from the Mourners' fleet. These standard-issue metal "coffins" were etched with bleeding wing insignias. Plasma thrusters on top roared with blue sacred fire.
They fell through space like a divine rain of punishment toward New Canaan's surface. Scriptures etched on each pod glowed gold under the sunlight, ready to deliver salvation to their stranded kin.
At the same time, tens of thousands of transports emerged from their hangars. Their streamlined hulls were scarred with battle damage from past campaigns.
Escorting fighters formed death phalanxes. Twin-linked laser turrets spun in automated checks, leaving trailing streaks of energy in the vacuum.
Amidst this tide of salvation, one Thunderstorm-class assault craft accelerated directly toward the station—
Built for boarding operations, this brutal vehicle boasted a thermal cannon on top and a molecular cutter on its prow. Its forward hatch was optimized for breach insertion.
The Blood Angels' crimson fleet had deployed in flawless combat formation.
The space ahead of the Emperor-class ship warped and collapsed under the pressure of its main guns. The energy buildup created lensing distortions across nearby starfields.
Six cruisers fired their macro-electromagnetic cannons in sync—lances of blue light pierced through the void like spears of judgment. Thousands of strategic metal-hydrogen warheads followed.
These "seeds of destruction" erupted among the Zerg fleet like miniature stars. The resulting EMP pulses turned every monitor on the station to blinding white.
"Hold on."
The metallic voice returned, static crackling faintly between the encrypted transmissions.
"The Mourners are inbound to your location."
A nearby engineer glanced at a monitor and saw the assault craft completing its final trajectory correction. Its thermal cannon was charged, sending ripples through space.
The observation deck erupted in weeping gasps of relief. People began crowding toward the other blast door, heading for the central chamber as ordered.
Suddenly, the entire station shook ominously.
The gravity system overloaded and failed. Equipment and debris floated wildly.
A medical pod's mounting bolts snapped loose. The heavy cabinet slammed into the wall with a deafening crash.
A hand-wide crack had split the blast door. Purple creep writhed through, its acidic mucus sizzling as it dissolved the alloy floor into bubbling foam.
"RUN!"
A bloodied navigator screamed, eyes reflecting the blades of bone just beyond the door.
The crowd surged in panic, clawing at anything to propel themselves toward safety. Some were entangled in floating cabling—fear making it harder to free themselves.
Though chaos reigned, station personnel were still more disciplined than civilians. Over half escaped before the Zerg breached.
But the rest weren't so lucky.
A young female repair technician found herself trapped—no handholds in reach, gravity gone. She floated helplessly near the observation dome, just as—
ROOOAAAARRR!!
Dozens of Zerglings burst through. Their scythe-like limbs tore open the final barrier, their carapaces still bearing scraps of guard uniforms.
Time slowed into a nightmare tableau.
Purple creep slithered across walls in grotesque veins.
Zerglings clawed at ridges to maneuver in zero-G. Their scraping shells screamed against the metal, moving clumsily but still lethal.
This... only made the slaughter more horrifying.
A technician was impaled. His blood, now depressurized, formed crimson orbs in the air. His screams echoed inside his helmet. Three Zerglings tore at his legs, scattering droplets with each bite.
!!!
The girl kicked at nothing. Her tears formed glittering spheres beside her face.
Below, six meters away, another tech was torn in half, entrails and bones drifting slowly. Worse still—he was alive, his torn vocal cords issuing a soundless scream.
As the Hydralisks slithered in, the girl shut her eyes.
Their sleek forms moved gracefully in zero-G. Hooked tails anchored them to surfaces. Their bone needle launchers charged, bioluminescent fluid glowing green in their seams.
She could almost hear the needles scream through the air—
BOOM. BOOOOM—!!
Suddenly, the station rocked violently. Sparks burst from the rivets.
A shockwave flipped the girl, slamming her into the window.
?!
She opened her eyes—everything was frozen.
The Zerg had stopped. Something had interrupted them.
THUMP. THUMP—!
Heavy footsteps echoed from the corridor. Each one sent a shiver through the floating blood droplets.
WHAM—!
A blast door remnant flew across the room. A two-ton alloy plate spun like a sawblade, cleaving three Hydralisks in half. Purple gore sprayed silently in a cloud.
RAAAHH!
The Zerglings turned toward the new threat, muscles tensing under carapace.
But they never jumped.
The entire chamber lit up with blinding fire—
TANG—TANGTANG—!
The sacred thunder of bolter fire echoed like a divine bell.
Each round traced a straight line through space, detonating Zerg neural centers on impact.
PFFT—PFFT—!
Zerglings exploded like overfilled sacks. Chitin shards and organs burst outward in radial patterns.
The girl stared, paralyzed.
A Hydralisk's head disappeared in a spray of gore. A swarm of Zerglings was reduced to a storm of meat chunks. A stray limb splattered against the glass.
Then—through the emergency lights—a massive shadow appeared in the corridor.
A giant clad in crimson power armor stepped into the chamber. The golden teardrop on his pauldron glowed in the flickering alarms. Steam exhaled from his helmet vents, crystallizing into ice.
WHRRR. WHRRR...
The teeth of a chainsword spun slowly, its growl sending shivers down her spine.
In the next second, the crimson giant lunged. Too fast for the human eye to follow, all she saw was a blur—
Magnetic boots locked him to the floor. He launched like a cannonball.
The chainsword swept across—three Hydralisks bisected instantly. Their halves drifted, still twitching.
His right hand fired his bolter—each round tore through a Zergling. Flames burst from the muzzle, and violet blood mist sprayed in waves like ink in water.
It took less than five seconds.
When he stopped in front of her, the final Zergling's limb bumped softly against the ceiling.
Then the giant reached out.
His armored left hand whirred gently, servos hissing. He tugged her safety strap and pulled her down to the deck.
"Are you alright, ma'am?"
Even with his metallic voice, there was unmistakable concern in his tone.
Only now did she notice—his armor was covered in scratches. All around them, alien gore and blood droplets floated, gleaming like a ghostly starfield beneath the red warning lights.
(End of Chapter)
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