In a sense, Luna had succeeded—she had truly lured Chandler out. But when she finally stood face-to-face with him, she flinched. She could feel his madness and power, and her reason told her that surviving a direct point-blank assault by a Greenskin fleet was impossible.
Ultimately, she chose self-preservation, hiding away and leaving the Skitarii and Tzeentchian cultists to die. Her priority was to preserve her remaining strength for a future comeback. She simply hadn't expected Raynor to arrive at this exact moment.
"Idiot." Raynor spat the word through gritted teeth before cutting the transmission.
Luna stared at the beeping comms unit, momentarily flustered. Her adjutant leaned in cautiously. "My Lady, what do we do now?"
"Shut up," Luna snapped. She turned to gaze out at the chaotic battlefield, her expression unreadable.
Standing on the bridge of the Peak Obsidian, Raynor took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. That fool Luna had nearly ruined everything. The rumors on Karl-2 had apparently manifested into reality. The Greenskins believed that hidden within the largest ship of Luna's fleet was the secret to building an invincible mecha. Consequently, the vast power of their "Waaagh!" energy had forced that belief to come true.
Now, their Warboss had personally led a fleet to seize this "Secret Vault." Raynor didn't know what the vault contained, but one thing was certain: if the Greenskin Warboss successfully obtained it, the rumored invincible mecha would truly appear on Karl-2. When that happened, forget an expedition—even defending Brevis would become a struggle.
He brought up the tactical image of the Mad Bull. Looking at the massive vessel, his mind raced. Its design was entirely different from a standard Greenskin ship. The armor was thicker, the structure more complex, and the weapon systems far more advanced. This wasn't the work of an ordinary Big Mek.
"A Great Mek," Raynor muttered. He had predicted this: the troop structure of Karl-2, the staggering number of war machines, and the advanced weaponry all required a leader at the Great Mek level to coordinate. And that leader was likely on either the giant ship or the Measure of Discipline. Perhaps it had already found the "Vault."
"Attention all decks," Raynor's voice echoed through the comms channel. "Prepare to launch 'Model Three'."
The captain asked no questions and immediately began the operation. Seconds later, the torpedo tubes of the Peak Obsidian cycled open. A silver-white torpedo slid into the void, trailing a faint blue flame as it streaked toward the frenzied mechanical beast.
Raynor watched the torpedo vanish into the distance and whispered silently to himself, Just do your best, Sarah.
Aboard the Measure of Discipline, the game of tag finally reached its conclusion. A dozen Nobs in heavy mechanical war-armor pinned the golden Squig to the floor. The creature continued to struggle, shriek, and writhe frantically, but there was no escape.
Chandler strode over, shoving the Nobs aside. He opened his power claw and slammed it down with brutal force. The golden Squig let out a piercing scream.
Then—BOOM!
A terrifying explosion erupted within the compartment. Green-gold light surged from within the Squig, flipping everything within a fifty-meter radius. The Nobs were tossed like ragdolls, smashing into the bulkheads and leaving deep dents. Metal fragments hissed through the air, and thick, acrid smoke filled the corridor.
Only Chandler remained standing. The colorful graffiti on his war-armor was scratched, but the suit remained intact. His iron claw held something firmly.
It was a golden sphere. About the size of a basketball, its surface was covered in complex, shifting runes that flowed like living things. The sphere itself radiated a soft golden glow, and the energy contained within those runes made Chandler's heart race.
"Mecha Secret Vault," he whispered. He didn't know where the term came from; perhaps from his own mind, or perhaps projected from the sphere itself. But he "fancied" that this was its name.
Chandler stared at the vault in a daze, swallowing hard. With this, he could build mechas that would blot out the sun. With this, he might become the strongest Warboss in the sector. As long as he had this...
A Greenskin's death rattle shattered his daydream. Chandler snapped his head up toward a breach in the hull of the Measure of Discipline.
Standing there was a creature. Over four meters long, its silhouette resembled a Lictor, but its lines were more fluid and elegant. It possessed two pairs of forelimbs—four bone blades curved like scythes, gleaming with a cold, sharp luster. Behind it trailed nine slender, whip-like tails, each twitching like a venomous snake lying in wait.
Most striking was its color: a deep, vibrant azure. Tiny bolts of blue lightning danced across its carapace, crackling and snapping as they jumped between the plates. It stood there, looking down at the Greenskins with compound eyes devoid of emotion. There was only a murderous intent so thick it seemed to overflow.
This was Sarah's third backup model, codenamed: The Awakening of Insects. Sarah didn't understand the etymology of the name, but she could feel the rolling power of thunder within it and accepted the designation gladly. This was the ultimate biological weapon Raynor and Sarah had prepared specifically for assassinating Mek-type Greenskin bosses.
It should have appeared at a more opportune moment, but Raynor could no longer afford to wait. Luna's incompetence had forced Sarah to strike prematurely.
Looking at Sarah, Chandler's heart skipped several beats. In the two years since his "birth," he had killed countless enemies and faced many monsters. But it had been a long time since he felt a threat this overwhelming. This blue bug felt like a natural predator.
"Stop it!" Chandler roared, clutching the Mecha Secret Vault and running toward the Mad Bull. "Stop dat fing!"
The Boyz turned and charged at the blue creature. Seeing Chandler flee, Sarah leapt from the hull breach. Dozens of slightly smaller kin followed—standard Lictors, though their shells also crackled with faint electricity. Mid-descent, they all vanished into thin air.
The Greenskins poured fire into the air, unsure where to aim. A second later, hundreds of living spores rained down, slamming into the Greenskin ranks. The spores burst, instantly filling the area with purple toxic mist. This was no ordinary toxin; it was a living weapon composed of countless microscopic insects.
These microscopic bugs could rapidly distinguish friend from foe, locking onto and attacking enemies with precision. Their mouthparts secreted a neurotoxin that caused even fungal organisms like Orks to feel unbearable itching and paralysis.
"Argh! It itches!" "Wot's bitin' me?!" "Me eyes! I can't see nuffin'!"
The Boyz scratched frantically at their skin, falling into a state of total chaos within the mist.