Inside a rear medical clinic.
Kaidel snapped his eyes open. A sharp, searing pain flooded his senses. He looked around and found himself in a quiet room, the cold, clinical light reflecting off his pale face.
His wounds had been bandaged, but the emptiness where his legs and right hand used to be filled his heart with a profound, boundless sorrow.
Enduring the physical agony, he slowly propped himself up. Looking at his mangled body, he couldn't help but let out a bitter, self-deprecating laugh. "Is this how I'm going to spend the rest of my life?"
Everything was gone—his brothers-in-arms, his healthy body. He feared his future would be spent entirely in a sickbed. As his emotions grew increasingly volatile, a surge of power began to well up from within him.
By the time he snapped back to his senses, his entire body was hovering in mid-air. In his panic, Kaidel lost control of his psionic focus, and a moment later, he crashed heavily back onto the bed.
"Ssss!" The loud impact and his cry of pain drew the medical staff from outside. Kaidel looked at the white-clad medics with a hint of embarrassment.
He scratched his head with his only remaining hand. Suddenly, he spotted a familiar figure among the crowd. With an excited voice, he shouted, "Boss!"
Alexei smiled at Kaidel, who seemed to be in relatively good spirits. He signaled for the others to leave the room before pulling up a stool to sit by Kaidel's side.
"How are you feeling? Did you awaken psionic powers too?" Alexei stared into Kaidel's eyes.
"Yes, Boss. I... I think I can move objects with my mind."
Alexei nodded. This display of telekinesis suggested a Gamma-level rating—useful enough to be a combat asset.
He looked at the bewildered Kaidel and spoke calmly. "Once the Tyranid swarm is driven away, I will find a way to heal your body. But there's a condition."
"Boss, no matter what the condition is, I'll take it."
"Later on, there will be an important project. I want you to participate in it."
"What project?"
"Spectre..."
On the main battlefield, nearly every tank had been mobilized. This was now the sum total of all armored vehicles remaining on the planet Aiel.
Three newly produced Thors stood silently among them. This time, without a Swarmlord to obstruct them, they would truly become the colossi of the battlefield.
Within the three bunkers, countless PDF soldiers clad in power armor were conducting final equipment checks.
Everyone was waiting for one single command—the command that would end it all. Colton stood on a high platform behind the ranks, silently observing the soldiers who had survived the harrowing journey from raw recruits to hardened veterans.
The trial by fire and blood had transformed them from poorly trained, undisciplined PDF units into an army with a will of iron.
Today, they would embark on the final campaign. They would purge every last Tyranid from their world.
Colton watched these young men, their eyes burning with hope, in silence. He didn't say much; as Alexei's order was formally issued through the psionic network, he let out a thunderous roar: "ATTACK!!"
The dawn over the Cinder Plains was torn apart by the roar of steel. The collective thunder of countless engines made the very earth tremble as a tide of iron poured forth from the ruins of the three bunkers.
The treads of Devastator heavy tanks crushed the scorched remains of Tyranids, their thick armor still scarred by the corrosive remnants of previous battles.
A deluge of bullets and artillery fire erupted. This time, the Tyranids were powerless to resist. Their numbers had dwindled significantly, and they could only offer a futile defense against the human advance.
The three Thor heavy mechs strode forward with heavy steps, overtaking the tank lines. The quad-linked 350mm impact cannons on their backs shifted into firing position. The Thors' bombardment hammered the distant Tyranid lines with a vengeance, turning swaths of the swarm into ash.
At this stage, the Tyranids had no hope of recovery. Countless organisms launched suicidal charges, abandoning all strategy and tactics to simply throw themselves into the human fire.
Finally, a PDF soldier raised his Gauss rifle, only to find that there was no longer a single Tyranid left to target.
In low orbit, the Hive Ships began to move once more. They abandoned this planet, which had cost them a massive amount of biomass yet remained unconsumed.
If they didn't want to starve to death here, they had to cut their losses. The Hive Mind knew that rather than wasting away here, it was better to seek out the next, more palatable target.
"They're leaving..." Zagara observed the Tyranid fleet in low orbit through a cloaked Overlord in the sky.
"Victory! We won!" Boundless cheers erupted from the ranks across the Cinder Plains. Almost everyone wept with joy—not just because they had survived, but because the sacrifices of their fallen brothers had not been in vain.
Colton slumped heavily into his chair, letting out a long sigh of relief. Finally... the battles on this ill-fated planet had ended. They could finally rest.
"Clear the battlefield. Count the casualties," he said exhaustedly to a nearby officer.
Outside the command center, the spore clouds that had choked Aiel's atmosphere for months began to thin. Sunlight finally pierced through the veil, shining directly onto the scarred, acid-etched land for the first time in an age.
Alexei stood on a clearing at the spire of the Main Hive City. The former Planetary Governor's palace here had been almost entirely demolished; he intended to use the space for new constructions.
His gaze followed the Tyranid fleet as it distanced itself from Aiel. His mind was already calculating the future. Now that the Tyranids were gone, he would have to face the vast, decaying machine of the Imperium.
The original Tithe fleet had been annihilated during the early stages of the Tyranid invasion. Because of the Shadow in the Warp, no news of this sector had reached the outside world.
But now the Shadow had dissipated. A new Tithe fleet would inevitably arrive. However, he wasn't particularly worried. While the Tithe is never absent, it is often late. Given the Imperium's efficiency, the next fleet was likely a long way off.
Furthermore, he had explained to the public that the mass-produced power armor was based on an STC template from the Dark Age of Technology. Once the Tech-Priests of Mars got wind of this, they would certainly come to confiscate it.
And then there was the existence of the Zerg. If the Imperium discovered a large-scale xenos presence here, it would mean certain destruction.
"What's the next move..." Alexei's eyes drifted toward a point in the stars. There lay the largest Warp rift in the galaxy. Soon, Abaddon's 13th Crusade would utterly destroy the fortress world of Cadia.
At that time, endless Warp energy would tear the galaxy in two. A Primarch would be awakened, launching the Indomitus Crusade... wait... Guilliman...
Alexei suddenly realized something. "The current date is 990.M41. There are still ten years before the fall of Cadia. The next Tithe fleet might not even make it here in time. If I can obtain the authorization of the Lord Regent, my development in the Imperium Nihilus could become entirely legitimate..."
He could seek out Belisarius Cawl to help awaken Guilliman. Before that, he might first need to secure the trust of an Ultramarines successor chapter...
Therefore, his primary objective now was to build a navy of his own.