At this moment:
The ventral armor plating of the two Emperor-class battleships slowly slid open, revealing hundreds of large, honeycomb-shaped launch silos. Accompanied by a voiceless mechanical hum akin to a sacred hymn, a total of 244 massive metallic hexagonal pillars were ejected.
Each of these kilometer-long pillars was engraved with ancient Forerunner runes, glimmering with an ominous cyan-blue glow under the starlight.
They deployed in perfectly synchronized arrays, accurate to the nanosecond, forming two flawless rhomboid matrices in space, casting a geometrical shadow of death over the planet New Canaan.
"Matrix charging initiated."
The gunner's report echoed across the bridges of both Emperor-class vessels.
The void between the pillars began to distort visibly, arcs of energy leaping from pillar to pillar.
As the charging sequence surpassed its critical point, the entire matrix ignited in a blinding white light—
This was no ordinary light, but the destructive radiance of forcibly ruptured spacetime.
Then—
SHOOM—SHOOM—!!!
Two beams of light, each over fifty kilometers in diameter, pierced the atmosphere. The air along their path instantly ionized into plasma.
New Canaan's crust underwent catastrophic changes the instant it was struck.
Landmasses softened like superheated glass; trillions of tons of rock vaporized on contact.
Under the unrelenting bombardment, mantle material surged upward in a colossal lava fountain spanning thousands of kilometers. Molten rock was launched hundreds of kilometers into the thermosphere, and the oceans evaporated before the eye. What was once blue water disappeared completely, and the resulting shockwave tore apart the planet's remaining atmosphere.
But it was the core that experienced the most spectacular destruction.
The beams intersected deep in the planet's core, heating the iron-nickel heart to supernova temperatures. New Canaan began to swell like a punctured balloon. Towering lava mountains rose tens of kilometers above the crust before collapsing in the very next moment.
When the shockwave finally surpassed its limit, the entire planet detonated into a brilliant plasma fireball. Expanding star dust formed a multicolored nebula, stretching outward through the vacuum of space.
And thus, the world that once nurtured billions of lives, but had since fallen to the Zerg, was now reduced to drifting ashes.
Meanwhile, aboard the flagship of the Salamanders' Third Company—the Emperor-class battleship Unyielding Flame—
Behind the observation pane, Dr. Ariel Hanson gripped the railing with white-knuckled force, her slender fingers bone-pale from tension.
Outside the viewport, New Canaan's last remains were blooming into a stunning "nebula." The expanding halo of annihilation bathed the bridge in a sickly orange glow.
The former chief scientist of the Agria colony involuntarily held her breath, as if doing so might ease the dull ache in her chest.
Her long flaxen hair floated gently under the ship's artificial gravity. Strands of silver threaded through it—a mark left by the grueling days of evacuation work.
The anti-radiation coating on the glass filtered the destructive glare to a gentler hue, but flickering reflections still danced across her irises.
A bead of sweat traced down her taut jawline, soaking a dark mark into the collar of her lab coat.
"Another human world is gone." Her voice was barely more than a sigh. "Even knowing it was a necessary purge... witnessing it still shakes something irrational inside me."
Beside her, Captain Gaozan gave a slight nod. The terminator armor of the Third Company Commander glinted with a bronze sheen in the eerie orange light.
"Data shows we rescued 94.7% of the viable population."
Though he wore no helmet, his voice retained the precision and cadence of an Astartes, processed as if by a fine-tuned audio system. "Compared to Agria, our operation efficiency improved by 23%."
Hanson noted the subtle twitch in his jaw as he spoke—
She remembered how, during the breakout from Agria, this captain had personally withstood a devastating psionic assault from the Zerg Queen to protect her and her research team, sustaining nerve damage that caused short-term aftereffects.
Now, those invisible scars etched themselves into his bronze skin like a second set of medals.
"...!"
Realizing her gaze lingered too long on the captain, she quickly turned back to the window.
A strange warmth spread through her chest. Her scientific mind instantly began analyzing the sensation, and the results made her fingers tremble slightly—unfamiliar and unsettling.
WEEEOO—WEEEOO—!
Suddenly, a shrill alarm pierced the air.
"Warning: Bio-signatures and psionic activity spiking."
The ship AI's feminine voice shattered the heavy silence.
The tactical holomap flared crimson. The previously scattered and disorganized Zerg fleet, reeling from the Exterminatus, was now reforming in a way that defied normal biological behavior. Millions of alien vessels, like a maddened swarm, charged at the two companies' fleet with no regard for formation.
Salvos of bio-plasma pounded their energy shields, creating rippling waves of force.
Simultaneously, several Leviathan beasts began splitting open their carapaces, revealing pulsating bioreactors within—clear signs of impending suicide charges. The ship AI calculated that even a single direct hit on a cruiser would result in catastrophic structural failure.
"Notify the Mourners. Prepare for full-force warp evacuation. We're leaving this cursed place."
Gaozan's order was succinct and firm.
Hanson instinctively clutched her data pad tighter. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Gaozan working through the tactical datastream at astounding speed. The emerald indicators on his armor's data interface blinked rapidly as he performed calculations far beyond the capability of any human mind.
Whether he noticed Hanson's subtle emotions or not—
Or perhaps, even if he did, for an Astartes who had pledged his life to the Emperor and the Imperium, it was just another irrelevant variable.
As the navigator activated the warp engines, dozens of glowing blue portals opened at the forefront of both fleets.
These entrances to the warp shimmered like bioluminescent jellyfish in the deep sea, distorting reality in ways that defied normal physics.
The Zerg's final acid volleys passed harmlessly through the vanishing ships, bursting into impotent green fireworks in the void.
Just before the Unyielding Flame's prow disappeared into blue light, Hanson glimpsed one last frame of real-time imagery—the crazed Zerg bioships had turned on each other, tearing and rending. Their psionic howls of frustration rippled through nearby star dust in visible waves.
Beside her, Gaozan was already summoning a new tactical star map. The scars on his terminator armor remained silent witnesses to countless battles like the one just ended.
For different human civilizations across the universes, these were moments of life and death. For the Astartes, they were but punctuation marks in an endless chronicle of war.
More than ten hours later, the residual warp glow faded from the hulls of dozens of vessels.
The combined fleet of the Salamanders' Third Company and the Mourners exited warp space in unison, anchoring at their designated coordinates in low orbit above Mar Sara.
The sight that greeted them on the bridge left Dr. Ariel Hanson breathless—
The war-torn colony world had undergone a complete transformation.
Sixteen massive orbital stations floated like a ring of steel around the planet, each a modular honeycomb structure clad in silvery armor embedded with intricate matrix arrays.
These leviathans were linked by gravity beams stretching thousands of kilometers, forming a perfectly synchronized defense network.
On the tactical map, the system resembled a masterpiece of mechanical art, each component operating with flawless precision.
And with the stations complete, a shimmering blue energy shield unfolded like a curtain of water, enveloping all of Mar Sara. It resembled the planetary shield seen in Star Wars above Scarif.
Hexagonal ripple patterns occasionally danced across the surface of the shield, confirming the defense system's automatic diagnostics.
The transformation on the ground was equally astonishing.
The previous ruins had been almost entirely cleared, replaced by neat industrial zones and residential blocks.
Autonomous construction units continued to work tirelessly, spraying nano-coatings onto armor panels. The new equatorial starport was ablaze with lights. Countless transport ships queued in orderly lines, awaiting offloading.
Just then, fleet sensors detected a familiar energy signature.
SHOOM—SHOOM—!
The Hyperion, its angular prow unmistakable, emerged first from warp. Its upgraded plasma turrets glowed a dull red under the nearby star.
Close behind was the cruiser of the Third Assault Platoon of the Carcharodons. Every seam in its battle-worn hull told tales of countless brutal encounters.
As the new arrivals joined the fleet and passed behind Orbital Station Three of the "Shield of Mar Sara," the view was nothing short of awe-inspiring.
At the edge of the planet's day-night terminator, thousands of ships formed a "city of steel." Most striking were the ninety or so black-and-white painted warships, floating in silence like executioners awaiting sentence.
At the heart of this colossal fleet was a Forerunner-built nomadic dreadnought.
Aboard the Unyielding Flame's bridge:
"The Black Templars, First Company of the Imperial Fists." Gaozan recognized the black-and-white fleet instantly. "Dorn has indeed sent his finest."
And his voice carried a rare note of reverence.
The Black Templars' fleet alone rivaled the combined strength of the Salamanders' Third Company, the Mourners, and the Carcharodons, showcasing the Primarch Dorn's high regard for this force.
Soon, damaged ships from the Salamanders and Mourners began docking at repair stations.
The Mourners' vessels were in especially dire condition. As over a dozen approached the docking bays, tens of thousands of maintenance servitors swarmed to perform emergency repairs.
Meanwhile, supply depots were refueling and restocking the Salamanders, Mourners, Hyperion, and the Carcharodons' cruiser—signs of an impending large-scale operation.
Next, the Salamanders and Mourners opened their hangar bays, releasing tens of thousands of shuttles to ferry New Canaan refugees to the new surface city.
By now, Gaozan had stepped away from the viewport, standing at the central control console, where six hard-light projections shimmered.
These projections cast a cold light over the dim bridge—
On the far left was Captain Marakin Foros of the Mourners.
This descendant of Sanguinius bore an almost flawless visage. His platinum hair was tied back, and icy blue eyes glowed with the psychic energy of his gene-sire. He leaned elegantly on his personalized power spear, wrapped with blood-soaked oath ribbons.
In stark contrast was Captain Tyberos of the Carcharodons.
The towering four-meter giant wore his signature shark-tooth helmet. Crimson optics glinted behind the visor. His terminator armor bristled with alien bone and fang trophies.
The projection of Black Templars' Captain Sigismund radiated silent authority.
Reputed to be not only the first among the Imperial Fists but possibly all Primarchs' successors, Sigismund's chiseled face was marred by battle scars—his brow and jawline bearing the history of countless wars.
At the center stood Athena, Goddess of War, clad in golden armor, exuding divine radiance over the entire bridge.
Her Spear of Victory trembled faintly in her hand, arcs of electricity crackling from its tip.
Then there was the image of Jim Raynor, looking distinctly out of place.
The rebel leader still wore his trademark white T-shirt, his stubbled chin slightly more rugged. He frowned over a datapad, occasionally marking tactical points.
Next to figures like Athena and Tyberos, Jim Raynor looked positively mundane.
On the far right stood Leon S. Kennedy, his expression neutral—not surprised in the least. For someone like Leon, legends and gods were no longer shocking.
But—
!!!
But for Ariel Hanson, standing not far away, the sight of these captains—each radiating the presence and appearance of gods—and the literal presence of the divine Athena, left her utterly stunned.
Even with mental preparation, the near-lifelike clarity of hard-light holograms overwhelmed her.
And Athena, paying no mind to the mortal Ariel Hanson, spoke plainly:
"Gentlemen, the Emperor's orders are clear—we are to capture the Zerg's Queen of Blades alive, formerly the human Sarah Kerrigan. Additionally, the joint task force of the Rangers and the Investigative Division is collecting all artifacts once belonging to the Xel'Naga.
Reliable intelligence confirms the Queen of Blades is also searching for these artifacts, and we have now pinpointed the final one's location.
Therefore, all units will suspend current operations and assist the Rangers-Investigators' coalition in securing the last artifact and confronting the Moebius Foundation. Then—"
Her voice deepened:
"Then, we will launch a full-scale assault on the planet completely overrun by the Zerg—Char."
(End of Chapter)
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