In the relatively quiet bridge, low humming echoed between the metal framework like a giant beast's heartbeat.
Sui Meng stood quietly before the observation viewport, his towering frame over five meters tall wrapped in layered armor, heavy and majestic.
His gaze pierced through the viewport, staring at the massive "derelict ship" in the distant void—
The Ishimura.
That engineering vessel was like a shelter abandoned by death itself.
The hull was utterly broken, massive cracks like deep wounds, exposed steel beams and bulkheads stretching beneath starlight, emanating piercing electrical fires and thin gas jets.
It drifted in the void, without lights or signals, merely a tomb floating in the abyss, solemn and sinister.
Sui Meng's eyes showed no hesitation at this desolation.
On the contrary, his expression was coldly focused, and he had already reviewed all intelligence uploaded by his father, even repeatedly studying the intelligence department's supplementary records.
Those materials were concise.
Necromorphs,
Markers.
Sui Meng understood that those necromorphs were not ordinary deformed monsters.
They originated from human corpses, yet were corroded and twisted by some bizarre energy, becoming mindless slaughterers.
They had no fear, no pain, only endless aggressive desire and "reproductive" impulses.
Once they spread, they would devour entire colonies, planets, even galaxies at plague-like speed.
And the Markers.
These were what made Sui Meng most vigilant.
Father's data clearly mentioned that a "Red Marker" existed aboard the Ishimura, a version replicated by humans.
Even as a defective imitation, it still emanated abnormal psychic resonance, capable of influencing thought and inducing madness and aberration on invisible levels.
This was a blade hidden in the depths of the soul—if it fell into evil hands, it could ignite turmoil not only in Universe-02, but potentially other parallel universes as well.
Of course, this assumed the Markers, and the race or consciousness that created them, could penetrate the Emperor's psychic protection.
Sui Meng believed that not even the Chaos Gods of the Warp could easily "break through" the psychic barriers created by his father, so the Markers were even more "powerless."
Additionally, the Ishimura was not the only threat.
In the colonies on Shield-7's surface, there existed an already awakened "Brethren Moon."
This was a "highly intelligent" collective hub, a massive organism formed by countless necromorphs, and under the Marker's influence, it had become the "nerve center" of the necromorphs.
If not destroyed promptly, it could function like a heart, driving the entire necromorph population and attempting to spread chaos and madness between the stars.
Thoughts flashed like lightning. Sui Meng slowly raised his hand, his armored fingers scraping against the metal surface with dull sounds.
Behind him, still secured to magnetic locks, was that massive specialized power spear, its cold light slowly circulating under force field protection, as if ready to tear through starship armor at any moment.
Then Sui Meng's voice rang across the bridge, deep and resonant as a great bell:
"Notify the First Company that has already crossed the space gate to immediately separate from formation and proceed to Shield-7's surface colonies. Objective: destroy the awakened massive collective organism, eliminate remaining colonial threats. No errors permitted."
"Yes, Father!"
The uniform response thundered like an echo.
Immediately, beyond the viewport, the Imperial Martial Legion's First Company dispatched a Gloriana-class super-heavy cruiser, adjusting course like an arrow from a bow, streaking from the fleet formation through the void directly toward Shield-7's sunward colonial settlements.
The vessel's stern thrusters erupted with blazing ion trails, dragging light bands that illuminated the dark void.
That sharp posture was like an ancient general's unsheathed heavy sword, inspiring awe.
As for Sui Meng's gaze, it remained firmly locked on the Ishimura.
He knew the Red Marker was the key to this preliminary unification, the true mission his father had entrusted hidden within that silent hull.
"Lock coordinates."
Sui Meng commanded in a low voice.
"Coordinates confirmed."
The bridge crew responded swiftly.
The moment the words fell, Sui Meng's entire armor erupted in a ring of blue-green aura, energy pulses flowing like surging tides throughout his body.
Light bearing small seal script runes ignited sequentially on the armor's joints, breastplate, and shoulder guards, like a slumbering dragon fully awakened.
Hum—!
Air suddenly shook, a brilliant light column erupted from the bridge center, illuminating every solemn face.
The next instant, Sui Meng's massive figure was completely swallowed, disappearing in energy ripples, as if pulled by invisible hands into another space-time.
The bridge returned to silence, only starlight remaining, as if witnessing a Primarch's "departure."
And the Ishimura, that silent steel wasteland, seemed to awaken at the same moment to some force.
The deep darkness within seemed to whisper soundlessly, awaiting new "prey" to enter.
Meanwhile, aboard the vessel, the Imperial Martial Honor Guard completed short-range teleportation as their Primarch finished his jump. Their fate would soon be written alongside their Primarch within that shattered giant vessel.
And distant Shield-7, gradually stabilizing under the energy matrix's protection, likewise quietly "observed" everything.
At this moment, the surface colonies on Shield-7 were utterly silent.
The colonies originally built along the rift valleys had once been places of hope for the deceived, deluded colonial pioneers.
Countless modular metal buildings arranged across the surface, interconnected like a hive, containing residential areas, factories, energy storage warehouses, as well as plazas and roads.
Remaining light poles and signage still stood, but were long covered in ash.
Geological fractures like fangs pierced through the colony's heart—after all, the entire planet's "skeleton" seemed torn apart by force.
The ground was littered with collapsed steel reinforcement, scattered mechanical components, and broken holographic billboards.
Blurred images still flickered across them—stiffly smiling propagandists still repeating slogans of "pioneering the future, mining unlimited, harmonious energy," only their voices were hoarse from electrical interference, like ghosts whispering.
The entire colony was incredibly empty, without any sign of living souls, only wind carrying dust through the broken walls.
Rumble... roar
Suddenly, engine roars came from the sky.
Several Thunderhawk gunships belonging to the Imperial Martial First Company swept across the horizon like eagles, their steel hulks cutting through heavy gray clouds propelled by flame jets.
They circled once above the colony, then dove in groups, landing in open areas outside the colony perimeter.
Thud—! Thud—!
Heavy landing struts crashed into the surface, shaking up clouds of dust.
Accompanied by hydraulic hissing, bay doors opened one by one, and out came over a hundred Imperial Martial warriors.
Their silhouettes were like heavenly soldiers from ancient myths.
Every suit of Terminator armor was heavy and majestic, their design unlike common Imperial standard issue, but bearing strong Chinese characteristics.
Broad shoulder guards resembled ancient generals' armor, carved with coiling dragons and fierce tigers, blue-green energy patterns slowly flowing across dark alloy surfaces like ancient talismans breathing.
The center of their breastplates bore the character "Martial" in seal script, bold strokes gleaming with golden light, symbolizing the legion's supreme glory.
Their helmets presented dignified faceplate designs—some like ancient generals' masks, others embedded with sharp angles.
Every Imperial Martial warrior possessed a tall, heavy build, their armor joints emitting low hums during movement, yet showing no clumsiness, instead carrying mountain-like pressure.
Their weapons were even more distinctive.
Unlike common chainswords or long-hafted war axes, the Imperial Martial carried weapons and equipment with Chinese characteristics.
Power spears curved like crescent moons, wreathed in blue arcs, each swing capable of cleaving deep roars from the air.
Power swords mostly resembled ancient longswords or ring-pommel sabers, their blades covered in energy runes, edges gleaming pale under flowing plasma sheaths, ready to cut through steel barriers.
"Form perimeter!"
At the centurion's command, Imperial Martial warriors dispersed at great speed, their steps heavy and orderly.
They also formed six-man squads, rapidly sealing the colony's south, east, and west sides in shield-wall formation.
Multiple passages were tightly locked down—any enemies emerging from the ruins would immediately face storm-like strikes.
Only the northern rift valley was deliberately left as a gap, obviously serving as bait or a prepared assault direction.
The airborne Thunderhawk gunships did not immediately depart, but hovered in mid-air, their twin-linked lascannons, heavy bolter cannons, and various missile launch racks constantly adjusting angles, ensuring continuous fire suppression and cover for ground forces.
With positions established, a murderous atmosphere immediately shrouded the entire ruins.
Then Imperial Martial warriors began advancing—their mission was "sweeping."
Squad by squad entered the colony's inner streets.
They stepped over broken roads, moving between collapsed factories and twisted metal frameworks, power spears and power swords constantly activated, faint energy shields crackling in the air, ready to respond to potential enemy attacks.
Among swirling dust, the warriors' figures moved like walking steel statues, their armored boots echoing deep "thud, thud" sounds that interwove with hot air from distant rifts, creating an oppressive atmosphere.
In the ruins were broken residential pods, still bearing traces of life—
Overturned dining tables, scattered clothing, frozen holographic projections of families sitting together, their images forever frozen while their laughter could never sound again.
Imperial Martial warriors searched coldly and efficiently, confirming no survivors before continuing forward.
Soon, an unusual scent filled the air.
It was decay mixed with blood, combined with scorched metal, as if some unclean presence had once feasted and slaughtered here extensively.
"Alert—possible internal remnants."
The centurion's low warning echoed through communication channels.
Imperial Martial steps showed no hesitation.
They knew this colony was not merely ruins, but an enemy breeding nest.
Their purpose was to completely eliminate all heresy and filth with the sharpest force.
As squads gradually penetrated deeper, the entire colony seemed to awaken from slumber, vague shapes stirring restlessly in the shadows.
Air temperature suddenly dropped, oppressive atmosphere growing thick enough to suffocate. Imperial Martial warriors gripped their weapons tightly, spear blades and sword edges gleaming in the dim ruins.
True battle seemed about to erupt in mere moments.
Rumble—Rumble—!
Thunderhawk gunships swept across Shield-7's desolate colony skies, broken metal frameworks reflecting blinding light under gray-yellow radiance like tombstones witnessing the demise of former prosperity.
Imperial Martial Terminator armor likewise flickered with cold brilliance under pale daylight.
Armor surfaces were carved with ancient Chinese motifs, sharp lines interwoven with solemn runes, fierce beast head reliefs on breastplates seeming ready to roar forth.
Swaying cloaks and red war banners were like blood-stained standards, adding murderous majesty to these warriors.
These details represented the unique style displayed by the Imperial Martial Legion with Sui Meng as their Primarch—resolute, fierce, yet maintaining solemn dignity.
When encirclement completed, the colony fell silent for mere seconds, then Imperial Martial helmet displays suddenly flashed, green interfaces suddenly showing densely packed red dots like suddenly ignited stars.
Each red dot was a threat lurking in shadows.
Rumble—!
Accompanied by harsh metal tearing sounds, necromorphs poured forth like floods.
They crawled from ventilation ducts, limbs already torn and deformed, yet still lunging with mad speed;
They emerged from sewer openings, dragging dismembered flesh and ragged colony work uniforms, their mouthparts split to their ears, shrieks tearing through air.
Roar————!!
Imperial Martial warriors showed no panic.
Long-prepared bolters raised, muzzles spitting flames in succession.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Distinctive bolter reports echoed through the colony's narrow districts like an iron-blooded war song.
Bolt rounds exploded upon impact, massive kinetic energy and secondary explosions directly tearing necromorphs to shreds.
Splat! Splurt!
Those mutated flesh bodies had no chance to struggle before being carved into blood mist and remains by bolt rounds, fragments splattering across metal walls and floors like a storm of flesh and blood.
The colony's conventional weapons couldn't truly stop necromorphs—instead, engineering equipment, especially tools capable of dismemberment, had "special effect" lethality against necromorphs.
But Imperial Martial firepower could resolve waves of charging assault in moments.
However, necromorph numbers were far from over.
They came batch after batch, as if the entire colony's shadows were pouring out twisted figures.
First magazines quickly emptied, but Imperial Martial warriors showed no hesitation, instead smoothly switching to "melee weapons."
Hum—Crackle!
When power swords and power spears activated, blue-white energy surged along their edges.
Imperial Martial warriors advanced steadily, carrying unstoppable force.
They charged toward necromorph tides, spears thrusting straight, blades falling, each strike accompanied by thunder-like explosions.
Necromorph flesh offered almost no resistance under energy field cutting, dismembered instantly, dark red fluids splattering armor only to be repelled by energy shields.
Imperial Martial combat methods possessed fierce "beauty"—
Like elite martial troops from ancient battle formations, front ranks pierced lunging enemy shadows with spears while rear ranks slashed monsters attacking from flanks with swords.
Their movements were coordinated and efficient, as if having undergone countless such drills.
But when new figures appeared, even these valiant Imperial Martial warriors experienced momentary brief stagnation.
Those things were actually converted infants.
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