For as long as the Emperor had sat upon the Golden Throne—since the failure of the Great Crusade—Fortress World Cadia had stood as the foremost bastion of the Imperium of Man against the invasion of Chaos.
Countless Astra Militarum soldiers, Imperial Navy fleets, Knight Houses loyal to the Emperor, Titan Legions from the Forge Worlds of the Adeptus Mechanicus, and numerous Space Marine Chapters had all been stationed here—either permanently or through long-term rotation.
To a Cadian, the Emperor's Angels were no distant myth.
Every Cadian, in their brief yet glorious life, would be blessed to witness, and often fight alongside, the Emperor's Angels more than once.
It was both an honor—and a duty. A duty demanding sacrifice.
For the Angels of Death appeared only where war was fiercest and hope was dying.
And so it was now.
Located in the Obscurus Segmentum, Cadia was the second-strongest fortress world in the Imperium, second only to Holy Terra itself. Standing defiantly before the Eye of Terror, it formed the heart of the Cadian Gate—the most perilous warzone in the galaxy.
This world existed for one purpose alone: to wage total war against the invaders of Chaos, no matter the cost. The Imperium stationed vast forces here, for so long as Cadia stood, the armies of Chaos could not freely move between the Eye of Terror and realspace. It was the most stable gateway between the Immaterium and the physical universe.
Every man and woman born on Cadia was a soldier of the Cadian Shock Troops.
Thus was born the most famous regiment of the Astra Militarum across the entire Imperium—the Cadian Shock Troops.
For the Cadian Gate was the only stable and permanent passage into and out of the Eye of Terror—wide enough for entire fleets to pass through.
That also made Cadia the most despised thorn in the eye of Chaos. Time and again, it had been the primary target of the Black Crusades led by the Warmaster of Chaos, Abaddon the Despoiler.
Now, Cadia once again faced the test of war. After the failure of the Twelfth Black Crusade, Abaddon had unleashed his Thirteenth.
For ten thousand years, Cadia's fortress had never fallen.
But this time was different.
The Eye of Terror stirred.
The darkness had grown stronger than ever before.
From the very beginning, the scale and ferocity of this war far exceeded any battle Cadia had endured in ten millennia.
Kasr Tyrok — Astra Militarum mustering ground.
The sky was red.
Black clouds rose into the heavens, reflecting the firelight of the ravaged land below. The air reeked of blood. Smoke and ash swirled through the burning firmament. Flames raged behind shattered fortress walls, where once stood proud defensive lines.
The once-mighty landing zone lay in ruins.
Vast warehouses used to store supplies had collapsed amid crackling embers. Petrified Lizard-pattern self-propelled artillery, Griffon heavy mortars, Chimera armored transports, Trojan supply carriers, Sentinel mechs, Baneblade super-heavy tanks—Poison Blade, Poison Hammer, Poison Sword, Stormlord—
All of them—obliterated.
Vehicles of every type, alongside their machine-spirits, perished in the treachery that had desecrated this place, leaving behind only a flattened plain of molten steel.
The ground, once soil, had been torn apart by brutal internecine combat. Craters several meters deep pockmarked the landscape, resembling the surface of the moon. Countless corpses in khaki and gray uniforms lay buried under drifting ash, carpeting the battlefield in death.
"Move it! Faster! Extinguish the fires! Salvage the supplies! Split into recovery teams—bring back whatever armor still runs! By the Emperor, this is desecration!"
The rebellion had long been crushed, yet hundreds of thousands of Cadian Shock Troops and servitors now toiled to clear the ruins of the landing zone—a place that brought grief to every Cadian heart.
Every scrap of salvageable materiel mattered. Though most Cadian soldiers lacked up-to-date intelligence, after suffering such a treacherous betrayal from their own, everyone understood one thing—the battles to come would be far worse.
Within the ruins of the landing zone, on a patch of ground hastily cleared of debris, hulking Ogryn soldiers—massive in muscle, minimal in intellect—were being herded forward by bellowing abhuman commissars. Exhausted from hauling and sorting supplies, they had no time to rest before being sent off toward another ruined warehouse.
"Throne-damned Emperor's golden toilet! What in the warp is this mess? Betrayed by our own people—bloody hell! Those Emperor-forsaken bastards from the Volscani Cataphracts should be fed to the Grox!"
A Cadian officer cursed aloud as he dug several crates of heavy bolter ammunition out from under rubble. Wiping soot and ash from his flak armor, he tightened the seal on his respirator, taking in the acrid air filled with the stench of cordite and rot. His fury burned as hot as the fires still smoldering around him.
These soldiers… they didn't deserve to die like this.
This mountain of war materiel should have been unleashed upon the Emperor's enemies—not reduced to cinders by treachery.
He couldn't understand it.
The Volscani Cataphracts—millions strong, fierce, battle-hardened veterans with a glorious history—had long fought bravely at the forefront of the Cadian Gate. They were famed for their courage, endurance, and loyalty to the Emperor.
So why? Why turn away from the light of the Emperor? Why embrace the darkness?
When Cadia's High Command issued the call to arms, the arrival of the Volscani Cataphracts had been seen as a blessing—a reinforcement expected to strengthen Cadia's defenses, to hold this spearhead of the Imperium's line against Chaos.
Senior officers had personally gathered to welcome their brothers-in-arms.
And then came betrayal.
In the midst of the welcome ceremony, the Volscani forces—already linked into the planetary defense network—trampled the Imperial Aquila underfoot and raised high the accursed banner of the Chaos Eight-Pointed Star.
Without warning, their fully armed and organized regiments opened fire on the Cadian command.
Because this was the supposed rear line—the safest sector of Cadia—most of the Imperial troops stationed there had only just arrived from distant campaigns. They were weary from travel, their weapons disassembled for maintenance, their vehicles unprepared, their defenses lax.
The result was catastrophic.
The rebellion of this elite Astra Militarum regiment caused devastation beyond imagining.
By the time the Cadian garrison rallied, burning with righteous fury, and exterminated every last traitor of the Volscani Cataphracts, the damage was done.
When they finally assessed the losses, the quartermasters nearly fainted.
A vast number of Imperial reinforcements had been slaughtered before ever facing Chaos in open battle. The entire stockpile of military supplies at Kasr Tyrok's assembly point had been destroyed. The vital landing zone, which allowed the Imperium to deploy large forces rapidly, was utterly annihilated.
Even worse—the entire upper echelon of Cadia's High Command had been wiped out in the rebellion.
The main Chaos forces hadn't even arrived yet, and already the cost was staggering.
Since the founding of Fortress World Cadia, this was the first disaster of its kind.
"Emperor knows how the high command plans to respond to this…"
Muttering, the officer shook his head, then returned to the grim work of salvaging what little could still be saved.
...
Moments later, a deep, commanding voice echoed across every vox-channel and loudspeaker on Cadia.
"In the name of the Emperor!"
"I, Ursarkar E. Creed, hereby assume the office of Lord Castellan of Cadia. In this darkest hour, I swear upon my life to defend Cadia for the Emperor."
"I pledge all that I am. I will stand or fall with Cadia."
"Cadia stands!"
"For the Emperor!"
Hearing who had taken command, none of the Astra Militarum soldiers were surprised. It was well-deserved.
In the chaos of the uprising, Cadia's chain of command had collapsed, forcing authority downward. The man who stepped forward to seize control of the situation was young, yet experienced—the commander of the 8th Cadian Shock Troop Regiment: Ursarkar E. Creed.
Under Ursarkar E. Creed's command, the Imperial forces waged a series of brutal battles, finally eradicating the traitorous Volscani Cataphracts—millions of soldiers wiped out.
"Cadia stands—!" ×N
Several squads of new recruits—white shields, as Cadian initiates were called—echoed the cry with fervent enthusiasm.
They were covered in dirt, exhausted from digging through rubble, yet their voices rang bright with passion and faith.
The veterans, however, showed no joy. Their faces were hard, grim. "Has it really come to this…?" they muttered under their breath. Unlike the young, who burned with naive zeal for the Emperor, the old soldiers worked in silence, sorting salvaged weapons from the wreckage, cleaning what could still be used, whispering quiet prayers.
The title of Lord Castellan of Cadia was not one bestowed lightly. It was reserved only for moments when the world's very survival hung in the balance. It carried the authority to command all Cadian Shock Troop forces throughout the entire Cadian Gate.
Since the Horus Heresy, humanity had learned to fear any commander with power over such vast, composite forces.
"Throne damn it!"
Cadian High Command, Kasr Kraf—War Council Chamber.
A massive table dominated the room, its surface covered by a rotating holographic map of the sub-sector—brilliant, intricate, and alive with color. Several servo-skulls floated silently above it, data cables trailing into the consoles.
"The Catachan detachment on the daemon world of Ursuoth—completely wiped out. Outer defensive world Solar Mariatus has fallen," an officer reported grimly, smoke from his cigar curling into the air.
"Just received word from the Astropaths of the prison world St. Josmane's Hope—mass rebellion. The prisoners joined forces with Chaos scum, destroyed the entire garrison!"
Another officer slammed a fist on the table. "We should've executed those millions of wretches the moment we saw signs of corruption! Could've saved half our supplies!"
"By the Emperor's balls—do we have any good news?! Reinforcements? Anything?"
"What about the Emperor's Angels?"
"Have the High Lords of Terra gone senile on their gilded thrones?! Don't they understand what Cadia means? Our distress calls went out ages ago, and this—this is all the help we get?!"
"Quiet! Watch your tongue—Inquisition might be listening—"
"Ha! Let them! I'll march into a Penal Legion myself, flashlight in hand, and die for the Emperor if I must!"
One officer—his olive Cadian uniform scorched and his face scarred beyond recognition—ripped the data cable from the implant at his temple and hurled it onto the table. He shoved the hovering servo-skull aside, slamming his fist down with a metallic thud.
His exposed skin and half-metal limbs marked him as a front-line fighter, not a desk officer. It was obvious—he'd been promoted from the trenches after the decimation of the old command structure during the Tyrok Rebellion.
Only men like him—battle-hardened, outspoken, recently elevated, uncorrupted by the sluggish bureaucracy of the Imperium—dared to speak so bluntly.
"I fight for the Emperor, I die for the Emperor, and I'll rest beneath the Golden Throne! Compared to those perfumed courtiers back on Terra, I'm a saint!"
The golden tassels of his epaulettes swayed as he struck the twin-headed Aquila engraved on his chest plate, his tone dripping with scorn for Imperial inefficiency.
"Enough. Save the outrage. What matters now is reinforcing the Cadian Gate."
"With what men? And even if reinforcements come, can we trust them? We can't risk letting untested Guard regiments enter Cadia unchecked. Another Tyrok betrayal, and we're finished!"
"The damage the Volscani rebellion caused isn't just material—it's psychological. The Shock Troops no longer trust the other Imperial Guard regiments. If we can't mend that rift, this war will fall apart from within."
...
The officers' debate grew heated—plans, arguments, accusations—until the chamber doors swung open with a loud metallic creak—.
A large, calloused hand pushed the doors aside.
"Lord Castellan!"
"Commander!"
"Sir, you're never late. Did something happen?" one of Creed's aides asked urgently.
...
The broad-shouldered man merely nodded, shutting the doors behind him. Moving briskly, he placed a data-slate on the table, rubbing his weary, bloodshot eyes.
"There's new intelligence I need you all to hear."
"Reports from our Navy units operating deep within the Eye of Terror indicate they've encountered two unidentified vessels—no known markings, no registered keel codes."
He paused, his gaze sweeping across the silent room.
"These ships approached voluntarily and offered assistance. Their crews claim to be Imperial citizens—civilian merchant wanderers—seeking the protection of the Imperial Navy."
...
—
—
40 Advanced Chapters Available on Patreon:
Patreon.com/DaoOfHeaven