The low orbit of Austin Star had already turned into a burning charnel house. The strike cruisers of the Ultramarines Sixth Company and 7th Company, like two unyielding bedrock, endured harassment from ground-based Chaos artillery and sporadic Daemon Engines, struggling to provide fire cover and support for the landing forces below.
On the surface, the once-magnificent Forge Hive City had now become a bloody meat grinder. The blue figures of the Sixth Company and 7th Company, like sturdy dikes, stood shoulder-to-shoulder with the Planetary Defense Forces, the Ecclesiarchy's armed forces, and the surviving Iron Hands warriors, forming a precarious but still tenacious defense line, relying on the Hive City's intricate streets and robust fortifications.
The roar of Bolters, the hiss of plasma weapons, the shriek of chainswords, intertwined with the screams of daemons and the blasphemous sounds of Chaos weapons, played a symphony of destruction. The warriors, with their powerful firepower and strict discipline, temporarily held back the tide-like daemon offensive.
However, the situation took a sharp turn for the worse several hours ago.
Accompanied by the ear-piercing shriek of Warp energy and heavy footsteps, the true nightmare descended—organized warbands of Chaos Space Marines, and among them, even more terrifying Possessed Marines blessed by dark powers, joined the battlefield!
These fallen Astartes, clad in twisted and deformed Power Armor, wielding blasphemous weapons, possessed strength, speed, and cruelty far exceeding ordinary daemons. The Possessed Marines had transformed into inhuman monsters, possessed and taken over by daemons, their limbs turning into claws and tentacles, spewing unholy fire from their mouths, like moving catastrophes, easily tearing through the Ultramarines' lines.
The defense line instantly came under immense pressure. The blue line was forced to retreat, every step marked by blood and sacrifice.
At the same time, on another part of the battlefield, the deafening clang of metal and explosions resonated. The Ultramarines' Dreadnoughts had engaged in a head-on collision with the Chaos side's terrifying creations, the Daemon Engines!
These monsters, formed by captured Astartes brutally implanted into twisted war machines, let out roars of pain and fury, using their massive multi-melta guns, spinning chain axes, or Power Fists, to engage in a titanic struggle and bombardment with the loyal Dreadnoughts. Each clash shook the ground, scattering shattered metal fragments everywhere.
The entire battle on Austin Star had fallen into an extremely brutal stalemate and war of attrition. Every minute, every second, loyal warriors fell.
The Macragge's Honour hovered at a relatively safe orbital altitude, like a calm giant eagle, overlooking the inferno below. On the bridge, Captain Cassius and Lieutenant Golden watched the tactical star map with grave expressions.
Warriors from other companies—the Second, Third, Fourth, and Fifth Companies—had already descended in drop pods and Thunderhawk Gunships, like a blue meteor shower, forcibly landing in the areas around the Warp Gate and at the interface between the Hive City and the wasteland. Their mission was equally arduous: at all costs, block and clear the daemons and Chaos warbands pouring out of the rift, attempting to outflank the Hive City or spread to other areas, to buy time and space for the most crucial strike.
And this most crucial strike would be carried out by the First Company.
"Reconnaissance data confirmed," a Tech-Priest reported in a cold, mechanical voice, "The Warp Gate stabilizer's energy source is located deep within the northern rift, coordinates marked. There is extremely strong Warp interference and heavy defenses around it."
"Golden." Captain Cassius's gaze turned to his Lieutenant.
"Understood, Captain." Lieutenant Golden took a deep breath, his eyes sharp as blades, "Sanx, Taras, report immediately to Drop Pod Assembly Point Three! Ten minutes' preparation time, execute 'Decapitation' protocol! Repeat, mission level: Decapitation!"
The order was instantly transmitted through the comms channel.
In the Drop Pod Three area, the atmosphere was so heavy it could almost drip. Heavy footsteps sounded as the three members of Sanks Squad—Gaius, Dorian, Luna—and the three Sword Veterans of Taras Squad, all arrived.
The three veterans of Taras Squad were specialists in lightning assaults and close-quarters combat within the First Company. The squad leader held an artificer Power Sword and a Storm Shield, with an ancient Iron Halo mounted above his power pack, generating a faint energy field for additional protection. The other two members had sacrificed some protection, replacing their power packs with jump packs, and carried the same artificer Power Sword and Storm Shield, clearly prioritizing mobility. They were silent as mountains, their eyes holding only cold killing intent and a ruthless determination to complete the mission.
Dorian was excitedly flexing the left arm of his Saturnine Terminator, the massive Power Fist opening and closing with a grating pressure sound. He had specifically asked a Tech-Sergeant to install a small energy shield generator beneath the massive shoulder pad; although it wouldn't last long, it might deflect a fatal blow at a critical moment. "Heh, let's see how those Chaos scum break my defense now!" he muttered, quite pleased with his modifications.
Luna, meanwhile, was making her final goodbyes to Ailas, who had rushed over. Ailas's small face was filled with worry; she quickly checked Luna's Power Armor's key interfaces and weapon status, then handed her several spare energy cells and a set of miniature repair tools. "You must come back safe, Lady Luna!" Ailas's voice held a hint of a sob. Luna hugged her tightly, saying nothing, only nodding heavily.
Just then, Lieutenant Golden walked over. He first nodded to the leader of Taras Squad, who silently returned a military salute. Then, he walked up to Gaius.
"Gaius," Golden's voice was very low, audible only to the two of them, his eyes extremely complex, filled with the commander's resolve and a brother's worry, "The final mission assessment just received... the estimated mortality rate for this operation... is as high as eighty percent."
This cold number hit Gaius like a heavy hammer. Eighty percent! This meant that their two elite squads might very well be completely wiped out, or even worse.
Golden's hand pressed heavily on Gaius's shoulder pad, with such force it almost deformed the ceramite: "As a Lieutenant, I order you, and as... a brother, I ask you. If... if possible, after completing the mission, do everything you can to bring Dorian and Luna... back safely. You... are all warriors I personally trained... I cannot..."
His words cut off abruptly, his throat seemingly choked by something. The unspoken words were a brother's heaviest, most helpless entrustment to another brother heading into desperation.
Gaius's heart pounded violently; he could feel the slight tremor in Golden's hand. He immediately straightened his body, his right fist slamming against his left chest, his eyes behind the visor unwavering, and he solemnly vowed: "In the name of the Emperor and the Primarch! I, Gaius, shall complete the mission and do everything in my power to lead my squad back safely! I will not fail your trust!"
"Good... good..." Golden patted his shoulder heavily, his gaze sweeping over Dorian, still happy about his energy shield, and Luna, who had just parted from Ailas and whose eyes had returned to their cold state. He didn't know if this farewell would be their last.
There was no pre-battle mobilization, no grand pronouncements. All emotions were suppressed beneath the cold armor.
Two Tech-Sergeants pushed over a storage crate, filled with a sufficient quantity of melta bombs—the ultimate means to destroy the Warp Gate stabilizer or any stubborn target.
"Load them!" Golden commanded.
The squad members silently and swiftly secured these heavy and dangerous high-explosive weapons to the dedicated attachment points on their waists or backpacks.
"Board!"
The heavy drop pod hatch slowly opened, revealing a cramped and cold crew compartment. Sanks Squad and Taras Squad, six battle-hardened elites, silently entered one by one.
Dorian's massive Terminator Armor required him to bend slightly to enter. Gaius took one last look back at Golden and the distant bridge, then resolutely turned and stepped inside.
The hatch closed heavily, sealing them off from the outside. The sound of hydraulic locks was like the tolling of fate's death knell.
"Drop pods in position... launch sequence initiated... coordinates set... May the Emperor guide you..." The navigator's voice echoed inside the cabin.
Accompanied by violent vibrations and intense G-forces, the drop pods carrying the six warriors, like steel spears hurled into hell, detached from the Macragge's Honour's launch rail, transforming into incandescent meteors, rushing irrevocably towards the daemon-infested rift in northern Austin Star, where evil energy glowed!
Glory and death, separated by a mere thread. The Decapitation operation had officially begun!
The two drop pods, like hammers of judgment cast down by the gods, enveloped in fiery contrails generated by atmospheric friction, slammed into the daemonically inscribed ground of Austin Star's northern rift with an unstoppable momentum!
Boom! Boom!
The immense impact kicked up clouds of dust and shattered rock; the pods embedded deeply into the ground, and the surrounding fragile rock walls shook, shedding stones. Yet, before the hatches could even open, a spine-chilling, tsunami-like roar of daemons surged from all directions! Countless twisted figures—Bloodletters, Horrors, Nurglings, and more indescribable Khorne Hounds and Tzeentchian abominations—like piranhas scenting blood, frantically swarmed the two Astartes who dared to intrude upon their lair!
They sought to tear these ignorant ants, who defiled their sacred ground, to shreds with their claws and fangs!
The next second, the hatch of one of the drop pods blew open with a hydraulic roar!
"For Macragge and the Emperor! Filth of the Warp! Your opponent is me!"
A roar, even more furious and violent than a daemon's shriek, exploded from within the pod like thunder! This was immediately followed by the iconic, storm-like clamor!
Da da da da da—!!!
Dorian's massive form, clad in Saturnine Pattern Terminator Armour, blocked the hatchway like a mountain, his right hand's twin-linked Storm Bolter spitting out meters-long tongues of scorching flame! The dense Bolter rounds, like the scythe of death, instantly mowed down a swathe of low-tier daemons charging at the front! Shattered limbs, splattering foul blood, and blue energy shards flew everywhere!
The ferocious suppression of heavy firepower instantly tore a temporary gap in the daemon tide!
"Now! Taras! Assault!" Dorian roared, his Storm Bolter firing relentlessly, continuously suppressing the daemons attempting to close in from both sides with a barrage.
Almost as soon as he spoke, the hatch of the adjacent drop pod also burst open! Three figures shot out like blue lightning!
Taras Squad's Sword Veterans moved!
The Captain led the charge, his Iron Halo on his power pack instantly activated, deploying a faint but incredibly resilient arc-shaped energy shield that enveloped him and the two squad members following closely behind! Countless daemon claw attacks, energy rays, and corrosive saliva struck the energy shield, creating ripples but failing to break through instantly!
At the same time, the master-crafted power swords in the hands of the three Sword Veterans hummed with high-frequency! Disruption fields were activated, and the air around the blades began to Warp!
"For the Emperor!" The Captain roared, and the three, moving as one, instantly plunged into the daemon horde!
Sword light flashed! The power swords, imbued with destructive energy fields, cut through these low-tier daemons like a hot knife through butter! Whether it was the brass armor of Khorne's Bloodletters, the energy bodies of Tzeentch's Horrors, or the bloated rotten flesh of Nurglings, all were fragile before the disruption fields! Where the sword light passed, daemons fell in swathes like harvested wheat, dissipating into their most primal chaotic energy!
Their movements were precise, efficient, and seamlessly coordinated; Storm Shields blocked, power swords slew. Under the fire support provided by Dorian, they quickly cleared threats near the hatch, carving out a safe foothold for subsequent personnel.
Gaius and Luna leaped out of the drop pod right after Dorian. Gaius's "Eagle Eye" sniper rifle fired almost non-stop; each short burst inevitably accompanied by the distant explosion of a Tzeentch Horror's head attempting to cast a spell, or a Khorne Flesh Hound preparing to pounce being precisely eliminated. He prioritized clearing out ranged and specialized units that posed the greatest threat to the squad's formation.
Luna, meanwhile, held a Bolter fitted with a large drum magazine, taking potshots at scattered daemons approaching while constantly monitoring the status of Dorian's Storm Bolter. The moment Dorian emptied a drum, she swiftly moved in as if she had anticipated it, deftly detaching the empty drum and precisely slapping a heavy, full drum into place. The entire process was fluid, taking no more than two seconds! Dorian didn't even turn around, and the roar of his Storm Bolter hardly paused!
"Thanks, Luna!" Dorian roared, continuing to push forward.
Two squads, six warriors, with Dorian as a mobile fortress and fire support, Taras Squad as the sharp spearhead, Gaius providing precise long-range support, and Luna handling auxiliary and flank cover, formed an efficient and deadly combat unit. They carved a bloody path through the daemon-infested chasm, steadily advancing towards the Warp Gate!
However, the chasm, as the direct location of the Warp Gate, contained threats far beyond just these low-tier daemons. Greater dangers lurked in its depths.
As they delved deeper into the chasm, the surrounding landscape grew increasingly bizarre. The rock walls began to show massive, living-like pulsating flesh, the ground was covered in a sticky, foul-smelling fungal carpet, and the air was thick with an inescapable Warp stench and whispers.
But strangely, the daemons actively attacking them gradually decreased. The remaining low-tier daemons merely let out threatening growls from a distance, not daring to approach easily, as if wary of some presence deeper within the chasm.
"They're scared?" Dorian roared as he changed magazines, his voice muffled inside his sealed helmet.
"No…" Taras Squad's Captain's voice was grave as he vigilantly scanned their surroundings, "They are afraid… of something far more terrifying. Be careful, stay alert!"
But the mission objective was ahead; no matter what was inside, they had to press on!
After advancing for several hundred meters, turning a corner around a massive rock wall that looked as if it had been torn apart by immense force, the sight before them made even these battle-hardened warriors halt abruptly, feeling an unprecedented shock!
Ahead of them, the chasm widened dramatically. And in the center of this open area, a colossal, unimaginably huge metal wreckage was half-embedded in the rock wall!
It was the remains of an Emperor-class Titan!
This gigantic war machine, once representing the Imperium of Man's supreme military might and technological pinnacle, now lay before them in an utterly tragic and blasphemous state. Its towering body seemed to have been struck head-on by an unimaginable, terrifying attack, a blend of physical and supernatural forces, its massive frame almost completely melted through and torn apart from the chest! Even more chilling, its metal skeleton and armor had eerily fused with the surrounding rock, as if some malevolent sorcery had literally "stitched" the two together, making it part of the chasm's structure, forming a colossal and terrifying metal tomb.
Even so, its iconic, church-like command center on its back largely retained its structure, though it was riddled with cracks and signs of corrosion.
And now, from the depths of that once solemn, now dilapidated "church," came an extremely eerie, inhuman shriek of pain and… sounds of chewing and sucking? The sounds were a horrifying blend of twisting metal, squirming flesh, and wailing souls, sending shivers down their spines.
Undoubtedly, something was in there—something so powerful that even the surrounding daemons feared to approach!
"What is that?!" Dorian raised his Storm Bolter, aiming at the gaping hole in the Titan's back-mounted church.
Without command, the two jetpack-equipped Sword Veterans of Taras Squad immediately reacted! They instantly raised the plasma pistols that had been hanging at their waists, and powerful energy quickly gathered and charged at the muzzles, emitting a dazzling blue light!
Bang! Bang!
Two muffled energy bursts rang out! Two intensely hot plasma orbs, like miniature suns, traced deadly trajectories, accurately shooting into the massive gaping hole in the Titan's back-mounted church!
A blinding blue light flashed within, accompanied by an even more piercing, pain-filled shriek!
The eerie shrieks and chewing sounds abruptly ceased.
However, before they could even slightly relax—
Boom! Boom!
Two utterly terrifying presences, a blend of pure violence, cunning psychic energy, putrid stench, and ultimate joyous malice, burst forth from the gaping hole in the Titan's church-like structure like tangible sledgehammers, slamming down upon everyone's souls!
The malice was so intense, so evil, that even Dorian's Terminator Armor and Taras Squad's Captain's Iron Halo seemed to hum under the unbearable strain!
Reflected in everyone's suddenly constricted pupils, two twisted, towering figures, exuding an aura of despair, slowly emerged from the shadows of the Titan's church, standing at the edge of the opening, looking down upon them.
They were two Possessed Marines.
But their forms far surpassed any Possessed Marine they had ever seen!
Their power armor was already warped and deformed, as if living metal had fused with burgeoning flesh and bone. One of them had half its body covered in Khorne-style brass spikes and skull decorations, its arm transformed into a massive bony claw burning with blood-flames; the other half of its body, however, was entwined with Tzeentch-style ethereal blue energy tentacles and cunning eye patterns, constantly twisting and shifting.
The other simultaneously exuded Nurgle's putrid pus and Slaanesh's alluring glamour. One side of its body was swollen and oozing, constantly dripping corrosive venom, growing disgusting fungi and maggots; the other side, however, was abnormally smooth and seductive, its carapace displaying alluring shades of purple and pink, its movements possessing a dizzying, eerie elegance.
These two monsters actually embodied all the characteristics of the Four Chaos Gods simultaneously! They were extremely rare and terrifying twisted creations, "blessed" by all four Ruinous Powers!
Their numerous inhuman eyes simultaneously locked onto the six Ultramarines below, filled with endless malevolence and a desire for destruction.
The real battle had only just begun. And this time, they would face a manifestation of malice from the deepest darkness of the Warp, far beyond imagination.
Deep within the chasm, the wreckage of an Emperor-class Titan stood like a silent, colossal witness, overseeing the brutal struggle between mortals and their darkest nightmares unfolding at its feet.
Two Possessed Marines, each embodying characteristics of the Four Chaos Gods, lunged from a breach in the Titan's cathedral, like two falling harbingers of disaster, crashing violently into the Ultramarines' formation!
"Taras! The one on the left flank is yours!" Dorian's roar was like a storm; his massive Terminator body showed no hesitation, instead actively charging towards the right-side Possessed Marine, which reeked of a putrid blend of Nurgle and Slaanesh! He knew someone had to face these monsters head-on to create an opening for his teammates!
"For the Emperor! Annihilate the heretics!" The Taras Squad leader snarled, and the energy shield of his Iron Halo flared brightly! He and two other Sword Veterans charged without a moment's hesitation, like three drawn swords, instantly pouncing on the Possessed Marine on the left flank, which combined traits of Khorne and Tzeentch!
Three Sword Veterans against one Possessed Marine! The battle instantly escalated to a fever pitch!
On the left flank, sword light and Warp energy collided furiously!
The Khorne/Tzeentch Possessed Marine let out a roar mixed with fury and cunning; its massive bone claw, imbued with the power to tear anything apart, swung towards Taras, while a tendril of eerie blue energy on its other side snaked like a viper towards another Sword Veteran!
Taras's Storm Shield met the claw with a violent impact, instantly cracking the rock beneath his feet! But he endured the blow with his Iron Halo and sheer strength! Simultaneously, his master-crafted Power Sword cut a deadly arc, striking at the energy tendrils!
Another Sword Veteran used his jump pack to instantly sidestep, narrowly avoiding the tendril's direct thrust, then backhanded his sword at the Possessed Marine's joint! The third Sword Veteran charged fiercely from another direction, his Storm Shield blocking a sweeping claw attack, and his Power Sword thrusting directly into its ribs!
Their coordination was flawless, like a three-brained killing machine, combining offense and defense, instantly ensnaring the Possessed Marine in a deadly net of blades! The Power Swords' molecular disruption fields clashed violently with the Possessed Marine's Warp-enhanced, twisted carapace and limbs, sparking blinding flashes and grating, tearing sounds! Though the Possessed Marine was powerful and its attacks bizarre, it was momentarily held firmly in place, unable to break free, under the relentless, storm-like, synchronized assault of the three elite Sword Masters!
On the right flank, it was a clash of pure power and savagery!
Dorian faced the Nurgle/Slaanesh Possessed Marine! One side of this monster oozed putrid pus, while the other shimmered with an alluring glow; its movements were sometimes sluggish and viscous, sometimes swift and bizarre, making it impossible to predict!
"Filthy abomination! Take a punch from your grandpa Dorian!" Dorian roared, his massive Power Fist striking with immense force at the Possessed Marine's twisted, deformed head!
The Possessed Marine let out a grotesque sound, a mix of pained groans and seductive whispers, as its swollen, pus-covered arm, protected by ossified growths, suddenly rose to block!
Boom!!!
The Power Fist and the corrupted arm-guard collided solidly! The terrifying impact generated a visible shockwave, blasting away all the surrounding debris and slime from the ground! Dorian's heavy Saturnine Terminator body swayed slightly, and the Possessed Marine staggered backward; the corrupted flesh and bone armor on its blocking arm instantly shattered and sprayed, revealing the twisted, writhing black veins beneath!
But its other arm—the smooth, alluring arm with razor-sharp fingertips—ghosted silently towards Dorian's abdomen armor! Its speed was astonishing!
Just at this critical moment!
Bang!
A crisp, precise sniper shot rang out! A meticulously calibrated armor-piercing Bolter round, as if guided by an eye, struck the shoulder joint of the Possessed Marine's alluring arm with uncanny accuracy! Although it failed to fully penetrate the Warp-enhanced carapace, the immense kinetic energy and impact successfully deflected its grabbing attack, causing it only to rake a series of blinding sparks across Dorian's abdomen armor, inflicting no substantial damage!
"Gaius! Well done!" Dorian roared, seizing the opportunity, and slammed his Power Fist forward again! The Possessed Marine let out an enraged hiss, forced to retract its injured arm to parry.
Gaius moved like a phantom on the edge of the battlefield, his "Hawkeye" sniper rifle continuously emitting calm yet deadly roars. He never fired a wasted shot; each strike precisely hit the Possessed Marine's critical points of leverage or its attempted sneak attack paths, cleverly disrupting its attack rhythm again and again, creating precious windows of opportunity for Dorian. His presence made the Possessed Marine feel as if it was grappling with an invisible opponent, bound hand and foot, and utterly frustrated!
Luna kept close behind Dorian, her Bolter continuously firing short bursts at low-level daemons that occasionally tried to approach from the surrounding shadows, while her primary focus remained on Dorian, always ready to provide support.
Dorian and the Possessed Marine were locked in a furious struggle! Power Fist and corrupted claws clashed violently again and again, sparks flying, and deafening roars echoing! The Possessed Marine let out daemonic hisses, trying to assault Dorian's mind with various obscenities and blasphemous whispers; Dorian's roars, however, were simpler and more direct, filled with pure rage and battlelust:
"Come on!!! You twisted traitor! Come on! Is that all you've got?! Is that all you've got?!"
His taunts seemed to enrage the Possessed Marine, which suddenly opened its mouth—one half oozing pus, the other half alluring—and spewed a deadly breath attack, a mixture of Nurgle's corruption and Slaanesh's intoxicating fragrance!
Dorian reacted instantly, raising his Storm Shield to block! Sizzling corrosive sounds and eerie pink mist spread across the shield, but could not instantly penetrate the Terminator's defenses!
Just as the Possessed Marine's old strength waned and new strength had not yet risen, its body leaning slightly forward—
Bang!
Another precise sniper shot! Gaius seized this fleeting opportunity; the bullet whistled, striking with extreme cunning the side of the Possessed Marine's supporting knee, which was covered in Nurgle's pustules and grotesque growths!
Splurt! Pus and shattered bone flew! The Possessed Marine let out a howl of pain and shock, its body uncontrollably stumbling forward, its balance instantly lost!
"Now!" Dorian's eyes flashed with fierce light; the long-awaited opportunity had finally arrived! He abandoned defense, pouring all his strength into his left Power Fist, his massive Terminator body charging forward like a battering ram!
"Die!!!"
Accompanied by a sky-shattering roar, the Power Fist, imbued with all of Dorian's strength and fury, squarely, unceremoniously, and heavily impacted the Possessed Marine's unprotected, violently heaving chest!
Boom!!!
Like the striking of a broken bronze bell! A dull yet terrifying roar echoed through the chasm! The Possessed Marine's chest armor visibly caved in and shattered! Twisted ribs and the writhing chaotic matter within were instantly pulverized and squeezed out by the immense force! Its massive body was struck off the ground, flying backward!
However, along its trajectory, an agile blue figure had already anticipated and waited!
It was Luna! She rushed forward like a cheetah, clutching an activated Meltabomb, radiating terrifying heat! The instant the Possessed Marine's body flew past her, she precisely and swiftly affixed this deadly bomb firmly onto the gaping hole in its chest, which had just been shattered by Dorian's powerful punch and exposed its twisted interior!
The action was clean and decisive, without the slightest hesitation!
After completing this, Luna didn't even glance at the result, immediately diving and rolling sideways at top speed, moving away from the flying monster!
The Possessed Marine crashed heavily to the ground; it seemed to not fully comprehend what had happened, its alluring arm instinctively reaching to claw off the metal object on its chest that radiated a heat it instinctively feared, while its other rotten arm struggled to get up, its twisted face filled with rage and a hint of… terror? It even tried to crawl in the direction Luna had fled!
But it was all too late.
After rolling to a safe distance, Luna unhesitatingly pressed the detonator in her hand!
Boom!!!!!!!!
An intensely brilliant, almost vision-melting white light suddenly erupted from the Possessed Marine's chest! This was followed by a deafening explosion! The terrifying heat of melta weaponry, enough to instantly vaporize the latest composite armor, was unleashed entirely within the monster at point-blank range!
No screams, no struggles.
After the destructive white light subsided, all that remained was a melted, glazed crater in the ground, and scattered, twisted, almost unrecognizable metal fragments and charred carbonized remains.
The terrifying Possessed Marine, a fusion of Nurgle and Slaanesh's power, was utterly obliterated!
Almost simultaneously, the battle on the left flank also reached its conclusion!
Under the relentless, perfectly coordinated attacks of the three Sword Veterans, the Khorne/Tzeentch Possessed Marine was already heavily wounded; its attacks were parried again and again by Storm Shields, its defenses torn apart repeatedly by Power Swords! The Iron Halo blocked the most lethal Warp energy impacts!
Finally, in a masterful three-pronged attack, Taras forcibly deflected its bone claw with his Storm Shield, a Sword Veteran used his jump pack to launch into the air, his Power Sword striking down fiercely, drawing all the defense of its other energy tendril, while the last Sword Veteran slid along the ground like a phantom, his master-crafted Power Sword, imbued with all his strength and the shriek of its molecular disruption field, thrusting upwards into the Possessed Marine's lower jaw, the tip of the sword even piercing through its head!
The Possessed Marine's body suddenly stiffened!
The next second, Taras's Power Sword swept across, completely severing its head! The other Sword Veteran's Power Sword, like a whirlwind, chopped off all its flailing limbs!
In an instant, this powerful monster was utterly dismembered into burning, Warp-fire-infused fragments by the three perfectly coordinated Sword Veterans!
The battle temporarily ended.
Only heavy breathing, the hum of power armor servo systems, and the faint sounds of weapon force fields gradually dying down remained in the chasm.
Two squads, six warriors, with their fearless courage, exquisite combat skills, and perfect coordination, had miraculously annihilated two powerful Possessed Marines, far beyond conventional strength, in such a short time!
However, before they could even catch their breath, everyone's gaze simultaneously turned deeper into the chasm, towards the Warp Gate that still emitted an ominous glow.
The true objective was not yet complete.
The remnants of the Possessed Marines still emitted their last Warp energy embers; the air was filled with the pungent smell of ozone, melted metal, and mixed chaotic blood. However, Sanx and the members of Taras Squad showed no signs of relaxation or lingering after their victory. They knew that the true threat—the stably operating Warp Gate—still existed, and every second of delay could mean more daemons pouring into the real universe.
"Keep moving! To the coordinates!" Taras's voice, cold and urgent, came through his helmet's vox-caster. He swung his Power Sword, flicking off the gradually dissipating Chaos residue clinging to it.
The squad quickly reformed, with Dorian still at the vanguard, Taras Squad guarding the flanks, and Gaius and Luna covering the rear, as they swiftly advanced deeper into the chasm.
As Luna ran, she attempted to contact the Macragge's Honour in orbit via the squad's comms channel, to report the powerful enemy they had just encountered and their current situation.
"Sanx calling Macragge's Honour... encountered high-ranking Possessed Marine, eliminated... continuing to advance towards Warp Gate coordinates... requesting updated battlefield intelligence..."
However, only a cacophony of jarring static, mixed with eerie whispers and shrieks, came from the other end of the communicator.
"Comms down!" Luna reported immediately, her voice tinged with gravity. "There's extremely strong Warp interference; our link with the fleet has been severed!"
This meant they could not receive orbital support, could not call for extraction, and could not transmit any critical intelligence they might uncover in a timely manner. They had become a completely isolated force, left to complete the mission on their own.
Lieutenant Golden's worries were slowly becoming reality.
The deeper they ventured into the chasm, the more bizarre and otherworldly the surroundings became. The flesh-like growths on the rock walls pulsated more violently, even beginning to beat like a heart. The ground was no longer hard rock, but covered in a resilient, dark purple fungal carpet, like living tissue, emitting an unsettling viscous sound when stepped upon. The pervasive scent of Chaos in the air was almost suffocating; it was not merely evil, but a twisted allure and a promise of corruption.
Even more unsettling was the complete disappearance of the low-tier Daemons that had previously swarmed them like flies. They seemed to harbor a profound fear of this area, daring not to cross its threshold, as if wary of some even more terrifying, more powerful entity lurking in its core.
This abnormal silence was more chilling than the Daemons' roars.
Finally, they passed through a colossal bone structure resembling a natural archway—the bones' form was utterly alien, unlike human or any known creature's—and then, the space before them opened up dramatically, leading them into an unimaginably vast underground cavern.
The scale of this cavern was beyond imagination; its dome was so high that even an Emperor-class Titan could stride through it with its head held high! Countless enormous, phosphorescent purple and pink crystals protruded from the ceiling and walls, providing an eerie light source that bathed the entire space in a kaleidoscopic glow.
The concentration of Chaos energy here reached its peak, almost solidifying. The air was filled with a pale pink mist, carrying a strange, sweet aroma. This sweetness was so potent it penetrated the Power Armour's filtration system, seeping into their nostrils, carrying a dizzying, heart-accelerating allure that sought to stir their deepest desires and impulses. Even with the willpower and bio-engineered physiology of an Astartes, they felt waves of mild discomfort and agitation.
"Stay vigilant! Hold your will! This is Slaanesh's domain!" Taras warned sharply, his voice seemingly affected, carrying a subtle hoarseness.
Just then, the pink mist in the depths of the cavern swirled, and several slender, swift figures emerged like specters.
Their forms were tall and slender, with skin of pearlescent white, pale purple, or an alluring pink, covered by sparse, ornate, and revealing black bone armor or silken appendages that seemed like a second skin. Their faces were breathtakingly beautiful, yet possessed an inhuman strangeness, with upturned eyes, full lips, and gazes that sparkled with hunger and a playful malice. They wielded long, tuning-fork-like swords or barbed whips, moving with a dance-like grace, their speed leaving trails of afterimages.
Slaanesh's Greater Daemons—Daemonettes!
They did not immediately launch a direct attack, but instead moved rapidly around the warriors, emitting melodic yet unsettling laughter like silver bells. Their long swords cut through the air, producing perception-distorting sonic waves; their gazes sought to meet the Astartes' eyes, transmitting blasphemous illusions and corrupting whispers; their very presence was a continuous psychic assault, constantly attempting to erode the iron will of these powerful warriors.
"Hold your ground! Do not be swayed by illusions!" Gaius shouted, forcing himself to ignore the twisted memories of past tranquil moments that the sweet scent and whispers conjured in his mind. He raised his sniper rifle, attempting to lock onto a rapidly moving Daemonette, but her erratic movements made her difficult to track.
Dorian roared, sweeping with his Storm Bolter, but most of the bolts were evaded by the Daemons with incredible flexibility and speed, or cleverly deflected by their seemingly flimsy weapons. Taras Squad's Sword Masters formed a defensive array, their Storm Shields blocking sonic waves and occasional thrusts, their Power Swords seeking opportunities to counterattack, but they too found it difficult to effectively harm these elusive enemies.
The battle settled into an eerie stalemate; Slaanesh's Daemons seemed in no hurry to kill them, but rather, like cats playing with mice, savored the process of torment and corruption.
However, all of this was merely an appetizer before the main course.
Just as the warriors were struggling to cope with the Daemonettes' harassment, the pink mist in the deepest part of the cavern parted as if by an unseen hand, and a figure slowly stepped out.
The moment they saw that figure, everyone's movements involuntarily slowed, as if struck by some invisible force.
It was a Slaaneshi Witch, a powerful sorceress who had completely dedicated her soul and flesh to the Dark Prince and gained terrifying power.
Her appearance was a fusion of extreme beauty and absolute strangeness, her form seemingly subtly shifting according to the observer's subconscious desires.
In the eyes of Gaius, Dorian, and the members of Taras Squad, she appeared as a female. Her figure was tall and graceful, far beyond normal, almost an exaggerated, elegant proportion. Her skin was as fair as the finest ivory, yet it exuded an eerie, moon-like luminescence. Her face was breathtakingly beautiful, every line seemingly calculated with the utmost precision, achieving a perfect, inhuman state, her purple eyes as deep as a star-river, yet containing endless desire and madness capable of drawing souls into them.
Her long hair, like flowing liquid amethyst, moved without wind, trailing behind her, its tips seeming to transform into tiny, starlit tendrils of energy.
She wore an extremely revealing, yet exquisitely complex, attire, more like it had "grown" from living dark metal, wailing soul fragments, and shimmering Chaos gems, tightly encasing and accentuating her alluring yet dangerous body curves. A slender waist, long legs, and... a vertically open, constantly changing third eye on her forehead! That eye had no pupil, only swirling galaxies and surging primal desires; one glance seemed enough to condemn a person to eternal damnation.
However, in the eyes of Tech-Sergeant Luna, the form of this being was completely different—she, or rather he, appeared as an exquisitely handsome male figure. Possessing a perfectly chiseled face, a strong yet graceful physique, with eyes that held deadly allure and the confidence of one who controlled everything. His attire was equally ornate and revealing, showcasing power and charm.
Regardless of how the form shifted, its essence remained the same—a combination of ultimate temptation and deadly danger!
Her appearance made the surrounding Daemonettes pale in comparison, and they humbly retreated to the side.
The Slaaneshi Witch's androgynous eyes swept over the battle-ready Ultramarines, a smile capable of corrupting a saint curving her lips. She seemed particularly interested in Gaius's special "Hawk Eye" sniper rifle, her gaze lingering on it for a moment.
Gaius felt the terrifying power contained in that gaze, but he did not hesitate for an instant! As a champion sniper, eliminating the highest threat was his instinct!
The moment the Slaaneshi Witch's gaze swept over him, Gaius pulled the trigger!
Bang!
The "Hawk Eye" sniper rifle roared, and a specially blessed armor-piercing Bolter round, highly effective against psychic beings, spun at supersonic speed towards the very center of the Slaaneshi Witch's perfect forehead—her third eye!
This shot was fast, accurate, and lethal! Even a powerful Daemon Prince might not easily dodge or withstand it!
However, what happened next was beyond the comprehension of all the Astartes.
Just as the Bolter round was about to touch the skin of the Slaaneshi Witch's forehead—
The entire world seemed to hit a pause button.
Time, stood still.
The Bolter round abruptly, defying all laws of physics, hung motionless in mid-air, less than a centimeter from her forehead. The air ripples caused by its rotation were clearly visible, yet it could not advance another millimeter.
The pink mist drifting in the cavern stopped flowing. The Daemonettes froze in their movements. Dorian's roaring expression, Taras's sword-swinging posture, Luna's stunned eyes... all were fixed in this instant.
Only the Slaaneshi Witch could still move.
The smile on her face deepened, carrying a hint of mockery and playfulness. She slowly, gracefully raised a hand so slender it seemed unnatural, with sharp, Charm purple-painted nails, and with two fingers, gently, as if plucking a flower, pinched the Bolter round suspended in the air.
She brought the Bolter round to her eyes, as if admiring an interesting piece of art, then her crimson lips parted slightly, and she blew a gentle breath at the projectile, which embodied human technology and the art of killing.
As if time had accelerated ten millionfold, the hard metal Bolter round, with that single breath, instantly weathered, shattered, and turned into the finest, shimmering dust, scattering from her fingertips.
After she had done all this, she turned her gaze back to the six blue giants frozen in time, and let out a charming, bell-like laugh that could freeze the soul.
"Hehehehe... such... an enthusiastic greeting, brave humans..." Her voice echoed directly in everyone's minds, full of temptation and cruelty. "Now... let the real 'game' begin..."
Her hunt, had begun!
And the Ultramarines, unable to move a single finger, like insects trapped in amber, could only watch as that deadly beautiful figure, with despairingly immense power, slowly walked towards them...
A suffocating silence permeated the time-frozen grotto.
The pink mist no longer flowed, the crystal's light seemed to be congealed, and even the most minuscule dust motes hung suspended in the air, forming a bizarre and terrifying static tableau.
Only the Slaaneshi Witch, with her deadly rhythm, was the sole moving presence in this solidified spacetime.
The playful, world-ensnaring smile on her face remained undiminished, like the most skilled hunter admiring precious prey caught in a trap, struggling helplessly.
Her dual-gendered eyes, filled with a discerning and cruel curiosity, slowly swept over the six static Ultramarines, finally landing on the Taras Squad member closest to her—the veteran Sword Master equipped with a jump pack, who had just been fiercely battling Daemonettess.
She elegantly "floated" before him as if weightless.
Even though time-bound, the Sword Master veteran maintained his combat stance, Storm Shield slightly raised, Power Sword poised to strike, and the gaze behind his visor filled with unyielding will.
The Witch tilted her head slightly, as if appreciating an interesting sculpture.
Then, she slowly raised her slender, almost ethereal hand, her fingertips gently brushing the veteran's cold shoulder guard, painted white and emblazoned with the Roman numeral "I."
The movement was as soft as a lover's caress, yet carried a chilling sense of desecration.
Her gaze finally focused on his frozen visor.
It was as if she could penetrate the composite crystal and the powerful insulating field, directly meeting the fixed pupils behind it.
The vertical third eye in the center of her forehead, shifting with nebula and desire, suddenly flickered.
For a moment, the barrier of time seemed to blur under her power.
She didn't read his thoughts, but directly peered into the most profound and vivid memory fragments from his river of life—
She saw... the sun-drenched city of Macragge.
It wasn't the military solemnity of Fortress Hera, but a vibrant cityscape teeming with civilization.
A black-haired boy, from a wealthy and prominent family, dressed in exquisite robes, yet always leaning by the window, gazing mesmerized at the Astartes monks in their azure Power Armor occasionally walking the streets.
There was no fear of war in his eyes, only immense yearning and fanaticism.
In his heart, becoming an Ultramarine, an Angel of the Emperor, was a supreme honor and dream, transcending family wealth and status.
The scene flickered.
She saw him excel in recruitment, saw him sweat profusely in the recruit training camp, saw his pain and perseverance during gene-seed implantation, and saw his excitement and pride when he first donned Power Armor.
She saw him fighting valiantly on countless battlefields, scarred, yet rising again and again.
His ledger of achievements was filled with glory; after serving just over a hundred standard years, he was selected for the glorious First Company, a symbol of honor, due to his outstanding military achievements and unyielding will!
When he first donned the white-painted First Company shoulder guard, the immense pride almost overwhelmed him.
But what followed was a deep, ever-present... anxiety.
He looked at the veterans around him, adorned with two, three, or even four Golden service studs, wearing laurel wreaths of honor on their helmets, and with brilliant combat records, and a voice deep within him always whispered: Do I truly deserve this armor? Do I truly deserve the heavy name 'First Company'? Are my achievements merely luck? Will I, one day, tarnish this honor?
This secret doubt about his own worth, in stark contrast to the resolute bravery he displayed externally, became the most unknown and fragile crack deep within his heart.
"Hehehe..." The Slaaneshi Witch let out a low, pleased chuckle, as if she had discovered the most interesting toy.
"How... lovely an obsession... how... delicious an anxiety..."
Her finger moved from the cold shoulder guard, slowly, as if with a magical pull, pointing towards the Sword Master veteran's forehead, protected by his helmet.
Despite the thick ceramite, her fingertip seemed to directly touch his soul.
Then, she began to whisper.
It wasn't a sound transmitted through the air, but a voice resounding directly in the deepest confines of the veteran's imprisoned consciousness, twisting and distorting, taking on the form most capable of piercing his mental defenses:
"Do you really... deserve it?"
"Look around you... true heroes... true legends... and you? A lucky one who climbed up through family background and luck?"
"This white shoulder guard... how heavy... it doesn't belong to you... it will crush you sooner or later..."
"Admit it... deep down... you've always known..."
Accompanying this malicious whisper, a powerful and twisted psychic energy flowed from her fingertip, forcefully pouring into the depths of the veteran's consciousness!
In the Sword Master veteran's perception, the shackles of time-stoppage seemed to suddenly vanish!
But he didn't return to the real grotto; instead, he plunged into an incredibly real, yet utterly terrifying illusion!
He found himself transformed back into the black-haired boy, wearing exquisite robes, standing on his family's sun-drenched, opulent balcony.
Everything was exactly as it was in his fondest memory.
However, before him, instead of the bustling streets of Macragge, there was—a majestic set of Ultramarines Power Armor, painted with the First Company's iconic white and blue, emblazoned with the striking 'I' symbol on the shoulder guard, radiating power and glory!
The Power Armor stood silently, without a wearer, yet exuding unparalleled majesty and... a cold disappointment.
The boy froze, at a loss.
Just then, that set of Power Armor, which should have belonged to him, representing his lifelong dream and glory, suddenly moved on its own!
It abruptly drew the master-crafted Power Sword, its disintegration field activated, that hung at its waist!
The chilling hum from the blade was so real, so piercing!
"No..." The boy tried to recoil in horror, but found his feet leaden and unable to move.
That set of Power Armor, his embodiment of glory, without the slightest hesitation, with a cold, judgmental demeanor, plunged the Power Sword, burning with an energy field, directly into him—the boy who once dreamed of becoming it—through his chest!
"You don't deserve it!"
In the illusion, such a cold and cruel voice seemed to echo.
Thwack—!
The Power Sword effortlessly pierced the boy's thin chest, emerging from his back!
Intense, tearing pain instantly swept through his entire body!
He looked down in disbelief at the blade impaling him, then up at the cold, merciless Power Armor.
His dream, his glory, everything he had fought for his entire life, had "killed" him with its own hands at this moment.
This extreme mental pain and sense of betrayal, far more lethal than physical injury, instantly shattered all his psychological defenses!
In reality, inside the grotto.
The Slaaneshi Witch withdrew her finger with satisfaction.
The moment her finger left, the Taras Squad Sword Master veteran's body suddenly trembled violently!
Even within the realm of time-stoppage, this collapse from the depths of his soul could not be completely suppressed!
A profoundly painful, choked sob escaped his throat.
Then, his white-armored body, as if losing all support, suddenly went limp—
His right knee slammed heavily to the ground, emitting a dull thud.
Immediately after, he toppled forward, his faceplate hitting the cold, viscous fungal growth, and his Power Sword and Storm Shield slid from his powerless hands, clattering.
He was not dead—the powerful vitality of an Astartes would not perish so easily—but his will, his soul, had completely collapsed in the nightmare the Witch had meticulously woven for him, striking at his deepest fears.
He had fallen into a deep mental shock, perhaps never to awaken, forever sinking into that nightmare of "You don't deserve it."
The Witch didn't even have the slightest interest in giving the fallen body another glance.
For her, this was merely a warm-up, a small game to test her powers.
She turned gracefully, her eyes, filled with endless allure and danger, once again locking onto her next target—the sniper, Gaius, who had piqued a flicker of her "interest."
She slowly, with a cat-and-mouse playfulness, "floated" towards Gaius.
She was curious: what fears, desires, or secrets lay hidden within the heart of this mortal who could fire such precise bullets, almost grazing her skin?
Destroying such a calm and precise soul would surely bring even greater enjoyment.
The hunt officially entered its next movement.
And Gaius, though his body was immobile, his vision and thoughts seemed not to be entirely frozen.
He watched, wide-eyed, as the powerful Sword Master veteran instantly collapsed under the Witch's whispers and touch, an boundless chill instantly sweeping through his soul.
Now, that terrifying presence was heading towards him.
The shadow of death, accompanied by extreme beauty and temptation, slowly descended.
The Slaaneshi Witch's inhuman figure, flowing with enchanting purple light, drifted like a wraith before Gaius.
Time remained frozen, Gaius maintaining his posture after a precise shot, the muzzle of his "Hawkeye" sniper rifle seemingly still retaining the residual warmth of the last bullet, pointed at the Witch's original position, but now futilely fixed in the air.
Her slender, siren-like fingers slowly rose, not with malice, but like a connoisseur caressing precious porcelain, using her sharp, cold nails to lightly brush over the honorary laurel wreath, carved from adamantine and white jade, on Gaius's helmet.
Her fingertips rubbed against the metallic leaves, producing a faint, almost inaudible, nerve-grating sound.
"Oh? A little medal too…" She let out a sweet, honeyed laugh, a sound that pierced the confines of space and time, echoing deep within Gaius's fixed consciousness. "Let me see… what kind of 'merit' earned you this pretty little hat? I imagine… your insides must be even more… 'delicious'…"
She was impatient to tear open the calm sniper's shell and savor the deepest emotions of his soul—whether glory, fear, love, or pain, all were the ultimate indulgence for her.
Her third eye, vertically positioned in the center of her forehead, constantly shifting with the colors of galaxies and desires, suddenly focused. Its deep light seemed to penetrate the thick "pig-nose" faceplate, directly meeting Gaius's pupils, hidden behind the lenses, now filled with shock and rage, yet unable to move!
Buzz—
A cold and viscous psychic perception, like the finest tendrils, forced its way deep into Gaius's memories, beginning to churn and pry wantonly.
She saw… a hot, humid planting cave, permeated with thick fungal spores. A black-haired youth, dressed in rough burlap clothes, carefully tending to the glowing fungi. His eyes were clear, holding a hint of confusion about the future, but more so, the resilience of a laborer. Kronus IV… an insignificant agricultural world.
The scene skipped. The seventeen-year-old youth stared in disbelief at the god-like blue giant before him—Sergeant Thayne. An opportunity! A chance to change his fate, to touch his dreams! The ecstasy and determination of that moment were incredibly vivid.
Immediately after, the scene abruptly turned bloody and dark! Above the ruins of Brakka! He witnessed with his own eyes as his silent and reliable comrade—Tech-Sergeant Elisa Cole—was struck down by a Night Lords' despicable sniper! Powerlessly falling! He rushed over, futilely trying to take her for treatment, but could only feel his comrade's life force rapidly draining away in his arms… That heart-wrenching sense of powerlessness and rage, even after many years, still burned searingly!
The scene shifted again. Becoming slightly lighter… In the corridor of the Macragge's Honour, he brushed past Golden, who was now a Lieutenant, exchanging silent camaraderie with a fist bump to the shoulder. In a corner of the hangar, Ailas, holding her small Power Fist, playfully chased him, feigning ferocity, a rare, relaxed smile on his face… Then… came the deepest darkness and pain. Desecrated by Tzeentch's great power, the whispers of the Mark of Change burning in his soul, endless torment and struggle… until he was rescued by the Primarch Guilliman and traveled to Terra… In that sacred yet oppressive Imperial Capital, the decisiveness and rebirth of breaking free from his shackles… The Witch's brow furrowed slightly, seemingly surprised. This mortal's experience was far more complex and… resilient than she had imagined. Pain, loyalty, friendship, sacrifice, and that astonishing will to resist a Great Daemon… These emotions, while "delicious," seemed to be encased in an extremely hard shell called "duty" and "faith."
"Truly… a nut encased in a hard shell…" The Witch's whisper carried a hint of even deeper interest, and… a touch of displeasure at being challenged. "Let's see… what kind of fear truly hides in your core…"
She needed more direct, more cruel methods.
Her hand, which had been gently stroking the laurel wreath of honor, suddenly plunged downwards. Her entire palm—that seemingly delicate and frail hand, yet imbued with terrifying psychic power—pressed heavily onto the forehead of Gaius's helmet, directly above the "pig-nose" breathing grille!
Even more violent, more twisted psychic power, like venom under high pressure, instantly injected into Gaius's sea of consciousness! This time, it was no longer observation, but weaving! Weaving the nightmare most capable of breaking his psychological defenses, born from his deepest fears!
In Gaius's perception, the surrounding cave, his comrades, and the Witch all vanished. He found himself standing in a familiar place—the bridge of the Macragge's Honour. But it was in ruins, fires raging, and alarms screaming piercingly.
In his hand, he no longer held his "Hawkeye" sniper rifle, but the Power Sword named "unyielding will," gifted by Guilliman! The blade was stained with warm, azure blood… At his feet, a person lay.
It was Luna, fallen on her back, her chest plate completely pierced by the Power Sword, her eyes behind the lenses wide open, filled with unbelievable shock and sorrow, as if silently questioning: "…Why… Gaius?"
"No!!!" Gaius roared silently in his mind, wanting to drop the sword, but finding himself completely unable to control his body!
His body moved on its own, like a cold puppet on strings, suddenly turning! The Power Sword swung out again!
Splish!
Dorian, who was standing behind him, trying to check on Luna, hadn't even had time to raise his Storm Bolter when the sword of his deeply trusted brother had already cut across his neck! The head, wearing an eagle-faced helmet and always boisterous, flew off, and the heavy Saturnine Terminator body crashed to the ground!
"Dorian!!" Gaius's consciousness screamed frantically, despair like ice water pouring over him!
But the nightmare was far from over. His body moved forward with stiff steps. Around the corner of the corridor, Lieutenant Golden was rushing with a squad of warriors for support. Seeing the scene before him, Golden instantly froze, his eyes filled with shock and pain.
"Gaius?! You…" Golden's words were unfinished.
Gaius's body lunged forward like a phantom! The "unyielding will" Power Sword, with a mournful howl, precisely and cruelly pierced Golden's chest plate, emerging from his back!
Golden coughed up a mouthful of blue blood. He clutched Gaius's shoulder plate tightly, his gaze not just pain, but a heartbroken confusion and deep disappointment: "Why… brother… we… weren't…"
His words unfinished, his hand slipped weakly, and his body slowly sank against the wall, the breath of life rapidly dissipating.
Finally… the smallest figure. Ailas ran out from behind a damaged Thunderhawk, looking at the bodies on the ground and Gaius holding the dripping Power Sword. Her small face was filled with fear and tears.
"Gaius… sir?" Her voice trembled as she instinctively raised her small, harmless Power Fist.
Gaius's body didn't pause for a moment. The Power Sword swung casually… That tiny figure, along with her Power Fist and all her smiles, was instantly torn apart… "No! No! No!!!" Gaius's consciousness roared madly in an abyss of endless despair, yet was powerless to change anything!
The scene shifted again. He stood before Chapter Master Marius Calgar. The Chapter Master's majestic face was filled with shock, rage, and incomprehensible pain. The Power Fist in his hand trembled slightly, but he did not attack immediately.
"Gaius! Look what you've done!!" The Chapter Master's voice was like a wounded lion. "Put down your weapon! Now! Tell me what this is all for?!"
However, Gaius's body raised the Power Sword, assuming an attacking stance!
The last shred of hope in Chapter Master Calgar's eyes shattered, and he was forced to raise his Power Fist to meet the attack. But the moment they engaged, Gaius's attack was so insidious and ruthless, as if he completely understood all of the Chapter Master's fighting habits!
Thud!
The Power Sword exploited a tiny flaw in the Chapter Master's defense, plunging into his abdomen! Though not immediately fatal, it was enough to grievously wound the powerful warrior!
Chapter Master Calgar grunted, falling to one knee. He covered the wound, from which blue blood continuously flowed, and looked up. Those eyes, once filled with trust and expectation, now held only shattered pain and deep questioning as he repeatedly, with difficulty, uttered the question:
"Why… Gaius… what is… this… for…?"
Why?
This question, like the most malicious curse, was violently driven into the deepest part of Gaius's consciousness! He had personally destroyed everything he cherished! He had betrayed all trust and honor!
This fear, originating from the deepest part of his being—the fear of losing control and betraying—was infinitely amplified and materialized by the Witch, becoming the final straw that broke the camel's back!
In reality, within the solidified cave.
The Slaaneshi Witch felt with satisfaction the violent tremor, originating from the depths of the soul, in the body beneath her palm. She elegantly withdrew her hand.
Almost the instant her fingers left, Gaius's body, which had been in a shooting stance, as stable as a rock, suddenly trembled violently! Then, he fell straight backward!
His "Hawkeye" sniper rifle slipped from his grasp, hitting the fungal mat with a dull thud. He fell heavily to the ground, his body twitching slightly, and an uncontrollable, extremely painful sob escaped from beneath his helmet. He had not completely lost consciousness like the Sword Master, but the dam of his mind had completely collapsed, and endless pain and self-doubt flooded over him. He curled up, as if trying to escape the nightmare from which he would never awaken.
The Witch let out a series of joyful, yet incredibly cruel, bell-like laughs. She relished the process of toying with the most resilient souls and utterly destroying them.
"Truly… a spectacular performance…" She licked her lips, as if savoring a delicious meal. "Now… next… it's time for that… noisy big guy…"
Her gaze, with a new anticipation of finding different flavors of "fun," slowly turned to her next target—the Saturnine Pattern Terminator Armour, standing like a small mountain, still in a roaring, bellowing posture.
Dorian Catonia.
The feast of the hunt continued. And Sanks Squad was already on the verge of complete annihilation.