"The fucking Pacific Rim," I muttered discontentedly, leading my Knight across the seabed to the mainland.
The auspex needle slowly moved along its axis, scanning the surroundings. There was a battle under water too, though not as epic. Mostly, our forces simply dropped bombs and torpedoes, turning any attempt by the enemy to counterattack into a suicidal mission with no chance of success. However, an extensive underground network ran even under the seabed. These Rangdans loved to make an impregnable fortress out of each of their colonies, and underground fortifications were a mandatory criterion for each base.
By the way, I was actually quite lucky. Not only was I far from the explosion that split the glacier, but the bottom itself was not that deep. So the pressure did not smear me, and the mainland was practically a stone's throw away. There, the battle for the coastline was already in full swing, and bombs were exploding with a roar, nuclear mushrooms were growing above the ground every now and then, but even radiation could not stop this madness.
The infantry, wearing gas masks and holding blood-stained bayonets, gnawed at each other's throats while the tanks wound flesh and uniforms around their tracks and the vain artillery rained shells on both enemy and allied forces.
"Oh, the vox started working, and I thought it was completely broken," I rejoiced when I heard sounds from the speakers.
The signalman quickly got me oriented and directed me to the frequency of the allies, who were already fighting hard for the shore. No one asked how I had survived, and I did not ask about the fate of others, because now there was no place for such questions. In war, for a soldier there was only an order that had to be carried out. And I received an order.
"Support Lancelot's offensive," the communications officer said briefly.
I didn't need more, because even though I was an aristocrat and had an officer's rank, I was in fact an ordinary executor. They told me where I should fight and shed blood, I went there and actually fought. Everything is simple, and let Moiran and his advisers think about strategy. He knows better, with his life experience, consisting mainly of endless battles.
The flashes grew brighter and my bolters appeared from under the water, and then the Knight himself began to climb out onto dry land. Step by step I moved towards the allies who covered the shore with their bodies and gnawed out every meter of bloody mud, blowing up pillboxes with plasma grenades. The beams of lasguns flashed tirelessly and magnetic cannons fired in response.
But at some point, Rangda threw into battle units of robots, led by tactical AI. Warriors made of metal knew no fear and almost never missed. Their only drawback was stupidity and short-sightedness, because the AI could not predict that at some point an Imperial Army soldier would get it into his head to go on an irrational and suicidal bayonet attack or blow himself and the enemy up with a grenade.
- RAISED THE BANNER!!! FORWARD!!! - Lancelot's roar was heard, the speakers of which immediately after the cry began to emit a heart-rending roar, instilling confidence in the hearts of allies and fear in the souls of enemies.
Instantly, the robot units dispersed and lay low, burying themselves in the mud and lining themselves with corpses. They could lie there for days, weeks, and years, waiting for their prey. Other robots rushed to attack, preparing to blow themselves up under the feet of the dangerous machine. Over many battles with the Imperium, Rangda had already developed and honed all her strategies and tactics, including in battles with the Knights.
- Mordred, I see you and I am happy, cover me from the right flank! - the voice of Lancelot was heard, who did not retreat and was not afraid of the kamikaze robots, because with a roar the soldiers of the Imperial Army ran far ahead, who were ready to even cover the commander with their bodies.
I began to accelerate, reaching maximum speed. I was almost not worried about the enemy's heavy equipment, because the Knights in the rear, commanded by Gareth, were rumbling tirelessly. Thousands of missiles rained down on the ground, burning everything, and the sharpened beams of the ships from orbit blew up all the equipment that dared to stand still for too long. We imposed a maneuver war on the enemy, not allowing him to implement the much-desired doctrine of deep defense. The Imperium also drew conclusions and learned from its mistakes.
However, having relaxed for just a moment, I almost went to hell right there when an aircraft swooped overhead. Having made its approach, it discharged my ion shield and miraculously I managed to cover myself with the shield without receiving serious damage. Laser beams immediately began to cut the sky, but under monstrous overloads, the hereditary pilots of Rangda managed to evade even such precise weapons, demonstrating the full potential of their homeland's aircraft industry. Their fighters were incredibly maneuverable, however, even they were shot down, just not as often as other xenos.
"The ion shields haven't recharged yet, maybe we should wait?" Birdie asked, jumping from one device to another.
"Giving the initiative to the enemy is tantamount to death," I answered briefly, continuing to rush through the ruins of pillboxes and trenches, under the explosions of anti-personnel and anti-tank mines under my feet.
This could not harm the Knight's feet, but because of the trembling caused by my gait, even mines in the immediate radius detonated. With my movement, I literally cleared the way for the infantry, which had already rushed to the attack after me. With their heads held high, they ran as fast as they could, because they knew that not a single machine gunner or sniper would stick his head out while the earth was shaking from the Knight's run.
Although sometimes there were desperate xenos who would pay with their lives for one shot. The bolter guns on my head fired bolts, essentially small missiles, comparable in caliber to anti-aircraft guns. Accelerating to monstrous speeds, they didn't even need to hit the target, because after the collision they exploded and flew into fragments, hitting enemies over a decent area and making any cover much less effective, and given the Knight's height and the trajectory of the shot, cover like personal trenches and trenches can be considered useless at close range.
"The storm is getting stronger, I'm hearing voices again that I shouldn't be hearing," Birdie said, and I suddenly realized that I was starting to get an uncharacteristic pleasure from seeing enemies torn to pieces.
Each kill warmed my soul and excited my mind more than adrenaline. Bloody excitement threatened to completely consume me, but a new discharge from the collar pulled me back like a mad dog. I must admit that common sense did not return to me because of the current, but the comparison with dogs was not chosen by chance. A conditioned reflex began to develop after ten such blows, and now I no longer had the desire to rush along the front line to maul the infantry.
My goal was not to destroy everything and everyone, but to eliminate threats to the advancing infantry. War should not be turned into entertainment.
"Suspicious activity detected," came a sound from the collar and immediately I was struck by electricity five times stronger than before, and the void aura knocked me out for a moment, forcing the Knight to stand rooted to the spot.
"Oh!" the Bird cried out and dissolved, just as the storm of crystal chips she had created died down.
This storm was supposed to cover the infantry's advance, but the collar immediately noticed an increase in mental activity, as well as something abnormal. The abnormal was almost always perceived by it as a threat.
"Mordred, report," the Primarch of the Second Legion immediately noticed something was wrong and immediately got in touch.
With such checks, he not only monitored the battlefield and controlled the situation in selected units, but also tested the sanity of each wearer of such a collar. He was well versed in any kind of obsession and when a number of critical symptoms appeared, his duty was to activate forced liquidation even if the danger level was still low. However, in autonomous mode, the collar was controlled by an AI that was not perfect and was capable of making mistakes.
- My demon created a storm to cover the infantry on its own initiative. Now the demon is dispelled, and I... damn... something strange on the auspex.
And it wasn't just my auspex that noticed something strange, even from space the strange cloud was visible. However, looking up at the sky through the Knight's visors, I saw what I wanted to see last.
"This is shit…" I said and raised my shield, spear and bolters to the sky.
The cloud covered the entire sky and was made of metal. Tens of thousands, maybe even hundreds of thousands of drones were flying straight towards us and I had no doubt that they were all packed with explosives. My bolters thundered tirelessly, all the infantry opened fire on the sky, but there were too many drones. They were extremely cheap to produce and Rangda could afford even such a swarm.
In an instant, the explosions enveloped the entire left flank. Soldiers were torn to pieces, shrapnel tore off arms and legs, and the plating of my Knight cracked and pieces of armor flew off after every twentieth explosion. After another collision, a bolter cannon was torn off, one of the visors broke, and at some point a well-aimed shot from an enemy vehicle melted my foot before our aircraft suppressed the enemies sticking out.
Five minutes later, all the drones were blown up and the entire left flank was plunged into silence. Even the groans of the wounded were not heard, because all the infantry was dead. The vox was torn apart by the screams of Lancelot, who already knew what had happened to his flank, but apparently really wanted direct confirmation. Instead, I contacted the Primarch of the Second Legion.
— I request the removal of level six barriers and the use of the "Voice of Death."
— The reason?
— The need to gain time for reinforcements to arrive. All infantry within a twenty-kilometer radius is dead, risk of losing recaptured positions and exposing Group Center.
— The risk is justified. The barriers have been removed, use is permitted.
The collar beeped and all the pain went away, but not for long, because I instantly strengthened my psychic aura, drawing power even from Tzeentch, which already provoked barriers of the seventh level. However, only there I managed to somehow patch up the damage, because the ion shields had not yet recharged, and the armor plates in some places were torn right down to the last layer of xenomaterials, which also shimmered with a practically discharged personal ion field.
Meanwhile, the protocols were launched and the fuse of the Knight's left hand flew off, where behind the shield was located the terrible power artifact "Voice of Death". The artifact, obtained on a forgotten dead planet, lay in a wasteland for thousands of years until Moiran accidentally found it. In his stupidity, he decided to take it and study it, which resulted in the sacrifice of thousands of people, and then the forced conservation of one of the ship's compartments.
However, in his stubbornness, Moiran continued to try to study the artifact, sending both servitors and captured xenos to it, sometimes even trying to go there himself. In the end, the artifact was subdued at the cost of a huge number of victims. And now it was in my hands.
"Mmm, how interesting," said Tzeentch's voice in my head. "This artefact reeks of the Dark Prince, but he did not create it. Rather, its power was used to subjugate the power within, for the artefact itself is far older than he is. And yet it was not created by me, or Nurgle, and certainly not by Khorne. Is this another of the aeldari's vices?"
"It's none of my business," I replied, after which I rushed forward, simultaneously filling the artifact with energy.
Instantly, he dug right into my soul, starting to tear it and demand even more. And the more he received, the louder the mental scream became, already at the initial stage capable of deafening and rupturing a person's eardrums. But the more energy he received, the more greedily he drew strength from the rift, the more demons paid attention to the scream, and mortals began to fall unconscious.
At the same time, the sound a minute later was already in the range that was not detectable by the human ear. The xenos, who did not understand anything, were already crawling out of the bunkers, preparing to recapture their positions after the drones' attack, but as soon as they appeared on the surface, they died. It even affected my allies, who rushed into the attack in a second wave much earlier than I expected.
"Oh, look, the artifact is already getting out of control," Tzeentch said sarcastically, and the collar announced the eighth level of danger. "Ha-ha-ha, how stupid you mortals are. Your kind has lived so long, but still cannot understand the elementary: there is no easy and safe way to gain power."
*
"The Voice of Death has been used," Brother Moirana reported, and a shadow fell across the face of the Primarch of the Eleventh Legion.
For the sake of victory, Moiran resorted to the most extreme measures, but even they were not enough. Was the enemy really that strong? They had not even managed to fully consolidate their position at the south pole before they had to use such dangerous artifacts. And the losses... the losses were horrific, and every second the elite units that had been through hell were dying like cannon fodder trying to take the fortifications of Gereliana.
- The voice of death... pff-ff-ff, empty... - the whisper of the sword was heard, continuing to shake Moiran's mind. - The real power is not in the hands of your lackeys. You kept the main trump cards for yourself, so maybe you'll start using them? You know how dynamically events develop in war, then you may not have time to play your hand.
"What do you know about strategy?" the voice of the rainbow amulet remarked arrogantly. "Your efforts are so funny..."
- Oh, do you want to say something?
- No, I don't want to, unless the owner orders me.
And at that moment, Moiran turned his attention to the amulet, which deliberately fed the illusion that Moiran was controlling a force unknown to him, and not the other way around. The voice from the amulet actually managed to force the primarch to take another step towards the edge of the bottomless abyss.
- Just give the order, master, I will help, and then you will evaluate the quality of this help. Allow me to do a little more... and if the result does not satisfy you, then you yourself will be able to join the battle. However, it is up to you to decide, I am only humbly offering options.
"I allow it," nodded Moiran, sincerely believing that he was in control of the entire situation and that the address "master" was addressed to him.
"Your words are full of lies, Scoundrel," the sword hissed.
"And a Liar," the amulet replied, accepting the compliment.
At the same time, the storm in the warp began to gain monstrous momentum. It completely covered the planet and enveloped it in a crimson glow, through which the hordes of Khorne were already rushing into reality. Hordes of bloodletters rushed straight at the bastions with void barriers. Nothing could stop them, and in a furious grip, Rangda was forced to send reserves to hold the streets of her own cities, where the souls of slaves literally exploded and created new rifts. For some reason, the chaos could not harm the Rangdans themselves, who continued to fight with grim determination, not retreating even in the face of the embodiment of true hatred.
At one point, the storm became so powerful that a star began to flicker, blinding the Rangda fleet's ship instruments with flashes. The rift in the material world brought such enormous pain to the universe that the echo even reached other systems. All the navigators suddenly felt a gaze from Gereliana turn on them.
Well, of course, the navigators immediately reported everything. None of the primarchs doubted the reason for this, and such an incident did not go unnoticed by the Emperor.
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