Boom—Rumble—!!!
The White Scars' naval gun strike once again let out a roar that shook the heavens and the earth.
This time, the muzzle adjusted its angle, targeting the areas around the pyramid where the largest number of enemy forces were massed.
In the first volley, three blazing white energy light spears tore through the night sky, accurately hitting three pre-marked coordinates.
The first coordinate was the large square at the intersection of the divine paths on the south side of the pyramid.
Over three thousand human soldiers and five hundred sub-god guards were gathered there, originally one of the main forces Horus prepared to encircle and annihilate the "invaders".
The moment the light spear fell, a pure fireball over a hundred meters in diameter exploded in the center of the square.
The shockwave spread outward in a ring, vaporizing and evaporating everything within a radius of five hundred meters, whether it was heavy stone statues, fully armed soldiers, or tall and strong sub-gods.
The troops on the periphery were blown away by the high-temperature blast and roasted into charcoal in mid-air.
The second coordinate was a dense cluster of mansions on the west side of the noble district.
Reconnaissance data showed that one-third of Cairo's nobles lived there, one of the core classes supporting the theocratic ruling system here.
The "people" or sub-gods living inside completely disappeared under the instantaneous high temperature and impact.
The third strike landed on the eastern edge of the noble district, a large and luxuriously decorated mansion, which was the place Leon and Mike had previously infiltrated and witnessed that noble sacrificing his ten-year-old son.
The moment the bombardment fell, the owner of the mansion, the noble named Ahmose III, was standing on the top-floor terrace, looking in horror at the mushroom cloud rising in the direction of the pyramid in the distance.
He was surrounded by his wives, concubines, descendants, and his most trusted butler.
When the night sky was illuminated by the blazing white light, Ahmose instinctively looked up.
Then, he saw a "sun" blooming right above his head.
Boom hum!
There was no pain, no struggle, not even time to think.
The orbital bombardment directly hit the garden in the center of the mansion, completely annihilating the entire mansion along with all life inside in an instant.
The luxury mansion, garden, fountain, servants, furniture, artworks, and everything else were reduced to the most basic particles, evaporated into a vitrified deep pit two hundred meters in diameter with edges as smooth as a mirror.
Death came too quickly and was too "merciful" for these scumbags who had blasphemed the most basic humanity.
But death was merely the starting point of their suffering...
At the same time, Hell Domain, Second Layer, Lust.
There was no sky here, or rather, the sky was an eternally rolling, chaotic thick fog between dark red and deep purple.
Silhouettes of twisted and giant creatures could be faintly seen in the thick fog, writhing slowly and letting out low howls that struck the depths of the soul.
The earth was cracked black rock, with thick, foul-smelling pink liquid flowing in the cracks.
In the distance, on the hazy horizon, stood countless twisted spires and palaces, their outlines constantly changing as if they were living creatures.
The air was filled with a suffocating scent of "lust", but mixed within this scent were despair, pain, and eternal hunger.
Faint gasps of men and women copulating could be heard in the ears, but listening closely, those sounds gradually twisted, turning into dying screams, the crisp cracking of bones, and the purest, hollow crying of losing all hope.
This was the second layer of the Hell Domain, Lust.
And the administrator was the once fallen, now rescued and "recovered" Primarch by Samuel Young—Fulgrim.
Suddenly, in this eternally unchanging hellscape full of blasphemous beauty, discordant "impurities" appeared.
Thousands of "humanoid" balls of light were like being thrown out of the void by an invisible hand, scattered randomly on the open black rock platform.
These balls of light quickly condensed and shaped, turning into the appearance they had when they were alive, and they were exactly those nobles, soldiers, and clerics who had just died in the orbital bombardment.
It was just that their current state was very "strange".
Because these existences could no longer be considered "human" in the complete sense.
They had human outlines, but their bodies appeared translucent, with a texture like poor-quality glass, and twisted, flowing dark matter could be faintly seen inside.
And their faces still retained the expressions from the moment before they died. For example, Ahmose III had extreme horror and bewilderment, other nobles were screaming or begging for mercy, and the soldiers showed pure fear.
"This... where is this?!"
"Didn't I die?! That light..."
"Lord Horus! Save me! Save me!"
The souls looked around in horror.
They tried to touch each other, only to find their fingers directly passing through the other's body.
They wanted to run away, but their feet seemed to be nailed to the ground, unable to move an inch.
The ghostly wails and cries of pain coming from all around infinitely amplified the fear originating from the depths of their souls.
"Waaahhh!!!" The mind of a female noble collapsed first. She squatted down holding her head, her transparent body trembling violently.
"Hehe~."
Just then, a low, magnetic laugh sounded behind the souls.
"Welcome, new guests."
""
The voice was lazy and elegant, carrying an intoxicating, dangerous charm like a blade wrapped in velvet.
The souls suddenly turned around.
Then, they saw "him".
It was a "giant" over five meters tall.
He had a near-perfect human male face, fair skin, and handsome features that transcended gender. His long silvery-white hair hung down to his waist like a waterfall, emitting a soft glow in the dim light.
He wore a luxurious dark purple velvet robe, the hem trailing on the ground, embroidered with complex and evil patterns in gold thread.
His hands were folded in front of him, his posture as elegant as an ancient noble welcoming guests. He wore a meaningful, unfathomable smile on his face, and looked down at this group of ant-like "new residents" with those purple eyes.
This image possessed a fatal attraction for the noble souls who were addicted to pleasure and lust in life, especially those female nobles.
"So... so beautiful..."
The soul of a female noble stared at Fulgrim somewhat blankly, a sickly flush appearing on her transparent face, even though souls were not supposed to have color, "More... more than those generals of Lord Horus... Ahh!! If I could be with him..."
She even began to fantasize about having an "in-depth exchange" with this handsome "giant", completely forgetting where she was and the death she had just experienced.
Some other nobles, both men and women, were also bewitched by Fulgrim's appearance, their fear temporarily replaced by a twisted infatuation.
They stared blankly, as if seeing a new "god".
But their "sweet dream" turned into the deepest nightmare in the next second.
The smile on Fulgrim's face did not change in the slightest, but his handsome appearance began to twist and "melt".
It was as if countless snakes were writhing under his skin, and his fair complexion quickly turned into a dull, grayish-white color like a polluted pearl.
His silvery-white long hair grew and twisted madly as if it had a life of its own, the ends splitting into countless tiny, hissing venomous snakes.
His perfect face began to stretch, the corners of his mouth tearing to the roots of his ears, revealing a mouth full of dense, sharp teeth, and his eyes turned into reptile-like vertical pupils, flashing with vicious yellow light.
The most terrifying part was his lower half.
The luxurious robe tore apart, revealing not human legs, but an incredibly thick giant snake body covered in dark purple scales.
The snake tail coiled, over twenty meters long, and the rubbing of the scales made a teeth-grinding rustling sound.
Going from an unparalleled handsome "god" instantly to a terrifying monster with a human body and a snake tail and a hideous face, this extreme contrast and blasphemous beauty completely shattered the remaining sanity of all the souls.
"Ahhh!!!!!"
Screams so shrill they almost tore the souls apart erupted.
The female noble who had previously fantasized about having sex with Fulgrim was now so terrified that her soul body was almost dissipating, her transparent body fluctuating violently, as if she would completely disintegrate in the next second.
"It seems that the guests are not quite satisfied with my new look as the host?"
Fulgrim's voice changed. It was no longer a lazy magnetism, but turned into a hoarse whisper with a snake-like hiss. Every word scraped across their souls like a cold blade. "It doesn't matter. Here, you have lots and lots of time to adapt to everything here."
As soon as he finished speaking, a large number of figures emerged out of thin air from the dark shadows around.
They were the warriors of the Emperor's Children Legion, or rather, the forms these warriors took in the Hell Domain after falling and being "reformatted" by Samuel Young.
They also wore purple and gold power armor, but the armor was covered with blasphemous carvings and twisted runes, and the helmet visors showed crying or grinning expressions.
59
""
They were silent, taking heavy and bizarre steps, surging from all directions, holding various bizarrely shaped torture instruments in their hands: whips covered in barbs, red-hot branding irons, cages lined with spinning blades, sprayers constantly dripping strong acid, and so on.
"No... don't come over!"
"Let me go! I am a priest of Lord Horus! You can't do this to me!"
"Help! Help me!"
The souls terrifiedly tried to step back and run away, but an invisible force field held them firmly in place.
The Emperor's Children warriors said nothing and, like the most efficient machines, began to "process" these newly arrived souls.
They grabbed those souls, locked them with special shackles that could directly act on spirit bodies, and then roughly dragged them, walking toward those passages leading to different "torture areas" and emitting an ominous red light.
Fulgrim's snake tail moved slowly. His hideous head lowered, his purple vertical pupils scanning the crowd of souls, and finally, locked onto a target—
Namely Ahmose III.
This noble soul was slightly more "solid" than the other souls, probably because his crimes during his lifetime were particularly "outstanding", and the pain and sin contained in his soul were more "concentrated".
Ahmose III stood blankly on the spot, watching the surrounding souls being dragged away, an unbelievable bewilderment still remaining on his face.
And Fulgrim reached out his right hand...
It was a hand covered in fine scales with nails as sharp as hooks, and using his thumb and middle finger, as if picking up an insignificant insect, he gently pinched Ahmose III's neck.
"You..."
Fulgrim lifted Ahmose in front of his eyes, the vertical pupils reflecting the other's twisted and terrified face. "I noticed you. Sacrificing your own flesh and blood to please a so-called god... What a pious, what a great fatherly love."
His voice carried a venom-like sarcasm.
"6"
""
Ahmose III wanted to beg for mercy, but could not make a sound.
Fulgrim held his soul, his snake tail slithering, gliding toward a passage marked with the inscription "Special for Parent-Child Blasphemers".
At the end of the passage was a giant spherical chamber.
Countless tiny, constantly changing lights and shadows were suspended in the center of the chamber.
They were the soul fragments of children who had suffered various inhuman abuses and blasphemies during their lifetimes. Their main souls had been "pieced together" and "redeemed" by Samuel Young, and then sent to the Heaven Domain. What remained here were using the purest pain and fear as "fuel".
And the "floor" of the chamber was a translucent gel-like substance.
Once a soul was thrown into it, the gel would simulate the corresponding "punishment scene" based on the soul's deepest sins.
Fulgrim threw Ahmose III into the gel pool.
!!!
The moment Ahmose sank into the gel, his vision changed.
He found himself back in the courtyard of that banquet, back to the moment his son was taken away.
But this time, his perspective changed—
He had become his son.
He could feel the feather-covered, cold hand of the eagle-headed sub-god pinching his chin, smell the stench of mixed blood and rotten meat coming from the other's mouth, and hear the sound of his own heart beating madly.
"Father! Father, save me!"
He cried out, reaching out to "himself" in the courtyard.
And "Ahmose" in the courtyard, with an ecstatic smile on his face, pushed him hard: "Go! This is your glory!"
Then, he was dragged into the bedroom.
The moment the door closed, hell began.
The tearing of every inch of skin, the breaking of every bone, the pain of every internal organ being squeezed, were all fed back to Ahmose's soul perception hundreds and thousands of times more clearly.
He could "experience" all the events his son had gone through in the last moments of his life.
Extreme pain, suffocating inability to breathe, the disgust of being completely defiled, and the despair born from being betrayed by the father he trusted and admired the most.
"No... no!!! Stop! Stop it!!! I know I was wrong! I know I was wrong!!!"
Ahmose's soul struggled and twisted madly in the gel.
But the punishment would not stop.
Here, time could be stretched and looped at will.
This brief few minutes of torture would be repeated ten thousand times, a hundred thousand times, a million times... until his soul completely understood what kind of pain he had inflicted on his son.
And in the endless torture, some "cognitions" also began to be passively instilled into his soul.
About the Emperor, about the Imperium of Man, about what a true "god" was, and about the eternal price traitors to their compatriots would bear in hell.
His pathetic faith in Horus had long been washed away by the boundless pain during the first round of torture.
Replaced by the purest fear, carved into the essence of his soul, of the Emperor sitting upon the Golden Throne, who had arranged such a "final destination" for him and all sinners.
But this was only the beginning.
Although these souls had no way of knowing the existence of the Human Emperor, Samuel Young, before their deaths, the opening of the spatial gate connected the main universe with Earth Two-Three. Combined with the fact that the Chaos Daemons had not paid attention to this universe, the souls of the humans of Two-Three were "automatically assigned" to Samuel Young's jurisdiction.
As for those human compatriots who suffered on Earth Two-Three, their souls had already been sent to the Heaven Domain.
At the same time, on the battlefield of Cairo, Earth Two-Three, the aftermath of the orbital bombardment had not yet fully subsided, and the torrent of white steel formally took over the ground battle.
The White Scars who were the first to charge out of the drop pods had their power armor servo systems operating at full capacity, emitting a low and powerful hum.
The snow-white armor reflected a cold light under the firelight and moonlight, and the red lightning patterns looked like flowing fresh blood, adding a bit more murderous aura.
"Die! Scumbags!"
"For the Emperor!!"
The battle cries came out through the external speakers of the helmets, carrying a metallic texture and the cold killing intent unique to the Astartes.
They did not pause at all. The moment they charged out of the drop pods, the muzzles of their bolters were already spitting out deadly tongues of fire.
Bang bang bang—!!!
In the first volley, the dense barrage swept like a steel storm toward the sub-god guards ahead who had just survived the orbital bombardment and had not yet organized an effective formation.
The black armor of these guards finally showed its limits when facing the bolt rounds.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The moment a bolt round hit the armor, the micro-rocket-propelled warhead would first conduct a short, delayed "drilling", blasting a small hole on the surface of the armor, and then the main charge would implode.
Under the internal and external pincer attack, the heavy black armor shattered like pottery hit by a heavy hammer.
The flesh inside tore open giant wounds in the explosion, splashing dark golden blood and shredded meat all over.
A sub-god guard roared and raised its energy spear, trying to rush toward the nearest White Scar.
But it had barely taken two steps when it was hit by three consecutive bolt rounds in the chest.
The first round shattered its breastplate, the second drilled into its chest cavity and detonated, turning its internal organs into paste, and the third directly blew off its head.
The massive three-meter-tall body crashed to the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust.
Another guard was relatively "smart" and tried to hide behind a broken statue.
But there was no need to worry about the White Scars' shooting accuracy. Moreover, the statue could not possibly block the caliber of the bolt rounds.
The bolt round completely shattered the statue directly and hit its knee.
Roar——!
The explosion blew off its leg bone. The guard screamed and fell to its knees, and immediately a second bullet ended its pain.
Close-quarters combat occurred more than ten seconds later.
When the distance between the two sides closed to within fifty meters, the White Scars displayed their assault speed that was famous throughout the Empire.
The joints of the power armor sprayed out brief streams of blue plasma, providing instantaneous burst acceleration, and the Astartes cut into the enemy group like white lightning.
The roar of chainswords sounded.
Bzzzt zzzttt shhck—!
A chainsword slashed into the waist of a sub-god guard from the side.
The high-speed rotating saw teeth carrying a disruption field ground against the hard scales and bones, sparking blindingly and letting out the tearing sound of metal.
Dark golden blood gushed out like a fountain. The guard let out a dying howl, its upper and lower body separated, and its internal organs spilled all over the ground.
Another White Scars warrior swung his power sword.
The blade was wrapped in a disruption field and high-energy plasma field. When clashing with the enemy's weapon, it didn't make a loud noise, but cut off the opponent's spear along with the arm holding it like a hot knife cutting through butter.
Immediately following with a backhand swing, the power sword drew an elegant arc. The guard's head flew high into the air, an expression of shock still remaining on its face.
The battle between the Astartes and the sub-god guards could indeed be called "evenly matched"...
If only looking at physical defense and strength.
The physical strength of these mythological creatures was astonishing, and their strength was even slightly superior to ordinary Astartes without power armor. The armor on their bodies also had considerable defensive power.
However, war was not a wrestling match.
What the Astartes possessed was near-instinctual combat skills, comprehensive attribute enhancements and protection provided by the power armor, era-surpassing heavy firepower such as bolters, plasma cannons, and melta weapons, and most crucially, highly coordinated teamwork and a fearless will to fight.
When six White Scars formed a standard assault formation and advanced forward covering each other, those sub-god guards accustomed to relying on individual brute strength and numerical advantage appeared clumsy and "laughable".
Often, when they tried to attack one target, they would suffer a fatal blow from two other Astartes from the side or back.
Bolt rounds shot into the gaps of their armor from tricky angles, chainswords and power swords specifically attacked fragile parts like joints and necks, while plasma cannons and melta cannons were used to deal with those more prominent individuals suspected of being commanders.
The tide of the battle rapidly tilted toward the White Scars.
And on the edges of the ground battlefield, the Helljumpers, who had also arrived on the battlefield riding in drop pods—though of a smaller specification and larger quantity—also began their mission.
These elite soldiers wearing black combat suits and iconic helmets with purple visors showed a completely different combat style from the Astartes the moment they landed.
They were more scattered and had clear targets.
The first priority was to eliminate those human heretic soldiers who served and swore loyalty to the so-called gods.
These traitors were much easier to deal with than the sub-gods.
The armor on their bodies could not block the Gauss and hard-light firearms in the hands of the Helljumpers, and the cold weapons in their hands were worlds apart in terms of range and power.
The paratroopers formed tactical teams of three or four, using the ruins as cover to accurately pick off those human heretics who were still trying to organize resistance or were slaughtering civilians.
A human rebel officer stood on a high point, waving his scimitar and roaring for his subordinates to charge.
In the next second, three spike rounds hit his head, chest, and abdomen almost simultaneously, leaving three holes in the wall behind him.
The officer's corpse swayed and fell straight down.
The second priority was to rescue surviving human civilians.
The paratroopers rushed into those crowded shack areas, using the language modules of their combat gear to translate and shout: "Imperial Army! Get down! Find cover!"
?
Many civilians were still in a state of numbness and fear, reacting slowly.
But some relatively "lucid" people, upon seeing these well-equipped soldiers who were completely different from those mythological creatures, had a faint light flicker in their eyes for the first time, and they obediently got down.
"Medic! We have wounded here!"
"We need more sedatives here! Civilians are experiencing mass hysteria!"
"Set up a temporary shelter! Hurry!"
In the communication channels, the paratroopers' calls were calm and efficient.
They might not have the "world-destroying" power of the Astartes, but in handling such complex and chaotic battlefield rescue and civilian control missions, they were equally irreplaceable professionals.
However, in the center of the battlefield, the true threat had just begun to move.
Horus...
That eagle-headed "major god", after his initial shock and rage, had already locked his gaze onto the "culprits" who caused all this.
Its eyes penetrated the smoke and chaos, accurately catching Leon and Mike, who were regrouping with a White Scars squad.
"Ants, you deserve ten thousand deaths!!!"
It gave up entangling with those "white tin cans". Its giant eagle wings, with a wingspan of over fifteen meters, violently spread and flapped hard.
Boom!
The violent airflow blew away several Astartes and sub-gods fighting nearby.
Horus turned into a bolt of lightning, charging straight toward Leon and Mike's position at a terrifying speed.
Its speed was so fast it left afterimages in the air, and wherever it passed, the ground was plowed into several trenches by its sharp eagle talons.
"Protect the agents!"
A White Scars sergeant roared, trying to block Horus's path of advance.
Horus did not even slow down, merely raising its arm covered in bronze feathers and casually swinging it.
Bang!!!
The sergeant and his armor were directly slapped flying, like being hit head-on by a heavy truck driving at full speed.
The energy shield shattered, the Titan armor deformed and cracked in mid-air, and the sergeant inside was unknown whether dead or alive, only stopping after crashing through several ruined walls.
Another White Scar raised his melta gun, but before he had time to aim, Horus's other talon had already grabbed his head.
With a teeth-grinding crisp "crack", the energy shield shattered and his helmet was severely deformed. Presumably, that White Scar's soul had already "returned to the Golden Throne".
Absolute violence, absolute speed.
Ordinary Astartes seemed to truly be no match in front of this existence that proclaimed itself a god.
Horus was already less than a hundred meters away from Leon and Mike.
Its burning pupils reflected the two "tiny" human figures, full of cruelty and mockery.
"Run! Little bugs..." Its voice was like thunder. "Let me see how long you can struggle."
Just as Horus was about to pounce right in front of them, the situation on the battlefield changed once again...
______
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