Chapter 199: The Liberation of Drune (Part 6)
From high above, the massive tentacles were seen rooted deep within the city, like some parasite clinging to the planet's surface. At the center of the fleshy mass, a huge, grotesque eye twitched spasmodically—nervous, wicked, cunning.
Above the tentacles and within the firmament, blinding light spread across the skies. The clash between psy-shields and light-spears made the ground tremble.
'Were Hades and the others still alright?'
Garro stood silently before the command console. The signal from the second front had finally been cut. The overwhelming psionic field had distorted and destroyed radio transmissions, and the last footage Hades and Branka transmitted was a screen full of writhing flesh.
Even as a battle-hardened veteran, Garro now feared the worst. His experience told him that unless Hades could confront that xeno leader head-on, their entire unit would be wiped out.
But if Hades somehow—with his strange, unique physiology—managed to kill that alien overlord— no, even just heavily injure it, even if it came at the cost of grievous injury to himself...
Garro shuddered. They had all severely underestimated—no, completely underestimated—Hades' capacity to counter psykers.
After all, outside of Librarians, very few Astartes had ever directly encountered the Sisters of Silence or other Untouchables. Garro's impression of them had only gone as far as "they suppress psychic powers." But now, Hades had taught Garro a harsh, unforgettable lesson—with results.
The earlier footage—the sea of corpses—and now this. If Hades truly defeated the alien overlord alone...
Garro swallowed. It wasn't courage he felt—it was something closer to primal fear.
Did Lord Mortarion even realize how far Hades' power had come?
Back on the first front, the main forces had begun their slow advance again. But due to the earlier ambush, the pace was far more cautious.
Beneath his hood, Mortarion's face was unreadable. The channel with Hades had been severed, which is never a good sign.
Mortarion understood Hades' ability—but not even he could say for sure just how far Hades' Black Domain could go.
Looking out toward the capital, Mortarion muttered under his breath.
Hades... hold on.
You must hold on.
And in that part of the battlefield where the concern of the Death Guard command was most tightly focused—
"F---!! Stop smashing my face with meat!!"
Flames erupted violently from the pack on Hades' back. In one hand he held Obituary, in the other, Execution. Leaping high from atop a tentacle, he dodged a massive limb swinging down at him. It was as wide as an entire street—and when it hit, the impact made the very ground shudder.
The giant appendage, composed of countless smaller tendrils, ruptured from its own kinetic feedback, splattering blood and flesh in all directions.
The smaller tendrils scattered like flying fish leaping from the sea, flailing through the air. Hades—face filled with despair—once again yanked off one stubborn tentacle clinging tightly to him.
Even with his Black Domain active, the already-dead tendrils spasmed reflexively and bit down on him like corpses in death throes.
As they reached the far end of the massive tendril, the psionic energy in the air grew exponentially more intense. But the proximity also meant the alien's long-range attacks had grown less frequent.
Branka, realizing they could no longer provide meaningful support, made a decisive call: they would separate from Hades.
[We'll find somewhere to hunker down! You don't need to worry about us!]
Branka's grumbling came through the channel, but right after, he suddenly asked:
[You are sure you can take it, right?]
Hades nodded firmly.
[Good enough. We really can't help anymore.]
No more words needed. In war, there was no time for speeches. Just a few short phrases, both sides deeply concerned for the other's life—but in this moment, there was nothing else either could do.
So, they parted—decisively, without hesitation.
At this point, the most reliable way for Hades to protect Branka and the others was simple: kill the tentacle overlord as fast as possible.
Yes—sometimes, the best way to support your team is just to solo the boss.
And so, Hades was now dashing madly across the surface of a massive tentacle, surrounded by a screen full of writhing, bloody flesh. Because his Black Domain was active, the tendril beneath him couldn't move—paralyzed in place.
Despite using a jetpack to aid his speed, it would still take time to reach the psychic core at the center of this grotesque creature that sprawled across half the city.
As he drew closer, the massive tentacle—finally realizing what Hades intended—began to panic. But due to its own immense size, it couldn't effectively attack him.
+ScreeeeeAAAAHHHHHH!!!+
The panicked tentacle emitted a psychic shriek, its most powerful ability—a Warp-infused scream that could shatter the mental defenses of any foe, exposing their fragile soul beneath.
A visible shockwave of raw psychic energy surged toward Hades like a tsunami—
And Hades didn't even slow down.
The tentacle's terror deepened—within Hades' radius, even the psychic shockwave ceased to exist.
No. No, no, no, NO!
It realized now—psychic attacks were useless against this being. Even its most devastating spell had no effect at all!
These parasitic xeno lifeforms had long since evolved to rely entirely on Warp energy. Their physical bodies were degraded and weak. Aside from launching huge chunks of meat as primitive bludgeons, they had no real capacity for precise or sustained physical attacks.
They had forsaken the inefficiency of physical warfare and embraced the powers of the Warp. To the many soul-bearing species across the galaxy, the tentacle-spawn were apex predators—none could resist them. Their kind fed on souls with ease.
Only higher-order psykers could stand against them. And those relying on physical force? As long as the controller possessed a soul, they'd crumble before the tentacles' psychic onslaught.
But now—for the first time—the tentacle overlord felt it: fear in the presence of a natural enemy.
It was the same terror that primitive species once felt when they first encountered a psyker and witnessed their power—completely alien, entirely beyond reason. And now, the tentacle saw it too:
A force it could not comprehend—one that made it immune to all its power.
A brutal, unreasonable force that nullified its psychic might completely.
This can't be!
The vision it had—of crushing the intruder under a wave of flesh and bone—was unraveling. The enemy was still drawing closer, moving rapidly toward its core—the very place where it stored its essence and soul energy.
—No no no NO—
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
"Is it... moving?"
Vorx blurted out, seemingly at random. Garro, meanwhile, stared at the screen.
The feed from the sensors showed the giant tentacle embedded in the capital starting to loosen—almost as if it was trying to pull itself out of the ground and flee into the distance.
"...It looks like it's trying to run away," Vorx muttered.
He and Garro exchanged a glance.
Then both of them suddenly realized what was happening.
Vorx spoke again, slowly and with disbelief:
"I don't think it's the Death Guard fleet that's threatening it. The psy-shield above the city hasn't shown any sign of weakening."
"Then... it can only be—"
But Vorx choked back the rest of his sentence. It was too absurd. Too far beyond anything he could understand.
Garro looked at him—and in his eyes, there was the same disbelief.
And yet, in the end, Garro forced himself to speak:
"Prepare to halt all orbital strikes. If that lead xeno dies, the psychic shield over the city will shatter immediately."
"We... we can't risk hitting Hades."
Yes, Hades was powerful—that they all agreed on. Strong enough to defeat most Death Guard warriors.
But this—this was insane.
—
He'd made it. He was finally there.
That massive eyeball was right in front of him now.
Hades jumped with all his strength. The tentacle beneath his feet was sticky and slick—no traction at all—but he used his experience to find leverage, vaulting upward as his jetpack roared, the last of its fuel burning furiously to give him lift.
He swapped to Judgment—it;s slower to charge, but better suited for this. Hades took aim at the center of the massive eye's pupil. Oddly enough, he thought he saw… fear—actual fear—in that alien, inhuman gaze.
High above, every single tentacle of the xeno overlord stopped caring about collateral damage to its own body. All of them swung toward Hades at once, closing in like a grotesque lotus of blood and flesh, each limb carrying megaton-level force.
Hades fired first.
The pistol that he got from Trazyn flashed brilliantly. A particle beam screeched through the air, heading straight for the pupil.
Just before it struck, a thin film suddenly covered the eye.
'It has an eyelid?!' Hades thought in disbelief.
But this was no ordinary weapon. The gun from Trazyn was no mundane tool. Almost as if it anticipated the defense, a fold-layer opened up right before the beam hit the membrane—and on the other side of that fold was the unguarded eyeball.
+SKREEEEEEAAAAHHHH!!!+
The membrane burst. High-pressure blood erupted like a geyser. The white of the eye turned murky and red. Vision completely obscured by the flood of blood, Hades gripped his scythe tight and dove downward.
The xeno's psionic core was just beneath the eyeball.
Hades plunged straight into it.
+AAAAAHHHHHH!!!+
Swimming through layers of sticky, viscous flesh felt like moving through the thickest swamp. Hades forced himself downward, steering through sheer will, diving toward the explosive pulses of psychic light.
Here.
Hades compressed his Black Domain to the limit, then channeled it into the Obituary.
Slash!
At that moment—every living being in the vicinity, save for Hades himself, saw light.
A blinding, all-consuming psychic flash filled the sky—then vanished instantly, like a phantom illusion.
All tentacles mid-strike began to slacken and crumble, falling heavily on the ground where the eye had been moments ago.
Every mortal once controlled by the tendrils collapsed. The small tentacles that were still flailing just seconds before fell limp, twitching only in death.
The psionic shield above the city shattered.
Without the control of a conscious mind, Warp energy scattered into glittering fragments, falling like rain.
As if it had been waiting, the orbital light-spears aimed at the capital suddenly grew dim—and faded completely.
Darkness fell.
Aside from a few scattered fires within the capital, everything else vanished into silence and shadow.
"Is it… over?"
Horus stared in disbelief toward the capital. With the hyper-awareness only a Primarch possessed, he instantly knew that the target of their purge had perished.
He needed an explanation.
But what greeted him was Mortarion breaking into a sprint toward the capital.
"It's over."
Mortarion muttered to his brother, eyes fixed on the countless distress signals Hades was now transmitting through the vox.
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