"O Savior!"
"The false calamity of Chaos!"
"T-the sky has split open! That dark scar is coming straight for our lines!"
The Fourth Iron Wall line. A colossal defense platform.
As the Imperial defenders stared at the torn heavens in the distance, fear filled their eyes uncontrollably.
The priests on the line had dropped to their knees, clutching their rosaries and praying without pause.
They had never faced such a horrifying sight. The sky had been ripped wide open, and darkness was pouring down like a flood spilling from the heavens.
The special rift created by the Chaos Gods at the cost of grievous damage to Their own essence had inflicted immense wounds upon the reality of the galaxy.
Even the Blackstone Warp barrier constructed by the Savior was struggling to hold it back.
The whispers and howls coming from the empyrean filled people with an uncontrollable agitation and dread.
Some of the mortal soldiers developed splitting headaches and found themselves unable to resist the urge to offer worship to the vast shadows within the darkness.
"The Blackstone barrier in this region won't hold. Chaos corruption is only going to intensify.
"At most, in three hours, large-scale corruption will break the defenders' combat effectiveness."
Tor Garradon, Captain of the Imperial Fists Third Battle Company, stared at the darkened sky, his voice heavy with concern.
He then turned to the senior Iron Warriors figure standing nearby. "When will our Blackstone barrier be restored?"
"Brother, our people are doing everything they can to repair the Blackstone engine, but we can't guarantee it'll be fixed."
Warsmith Frick removed his white construction safety helmet and explained:
"The Chaos interference is too severe. Too many components have been corroded and burnt out. Even if we replace them with new parts, there's no guarantee the system will start running again."
At this point, he and the Imperial Fists captain were on fairly good terms.
During these past days, one Legion had been responsible for holding the line while the other repaired the fortifications, and in the course of this massive defense of Terra they had forged a measure of friendship.
Even the hatred between them from ages past had faded considerably.
"Compared to fixing the Blackstone engine, I'm more worried about that damn thing. It's obviously coming straight at us."
Frick took a deep breath and pointed toward the rift in the void that seemed to devour all light.
"If we don't deal with it, then before the engine is repaired, our line is going to take that thing head-on. Nobody knows what'll happen, but I doubt it'll be anything good."
"I've already reported the situation to our gene-father."
Resting a hand on the railing of the observation terrace, Garradon looked out at the dark rift slowly spreading toward them.
"I've heard the senior Librarians and the Mechanicus Archmagi have already begun an emergency analysis, but no results have come back yet.
"The moment there's any relevant conclusion, we'll know."
"So in other words, there's absolutely nothing we can do about it right now?" Frick asked helplessly.
Earlier, their colossal defense platform had already fired several volleys at the dark rift. They had even launched cyclonic torpedo batteries, massive sanctified ash-shells, and an entire salvo of hell-missiles.
It had achieved nothing.
If anything, the dark rift had only grown more violent.
Because of that, the platform had been ordered to cease fire for the time being, lest even more unpredictable consequences be triggered.
Now all they could do was watch as the dark rift spread toward them like the countdown to some final end.
Frick sighed softly.
"If only His Majesty the Savior were here. Then we wouldn't have to fear anything. He'd definitely be able to deal with that thing."
For the Imperial defenders, in a war on this scale, the Savior's absence left them with the vague but unmistakable sense that humanity had lost its anchor.
The Lord of the Bastion was mighty, yes, but he still could not shoulder the entire burden of protecting humanity and Terra by himself.
Garradon did not respond much to that. He simply fell silent, because he agreed with the warsmith.
That Lord of the Bastion, the gene-father of the Imperial Fists, did not command even a fraction of the Savior's prestige within the Imperium.
At a time like this, the only one who could truly steady humanity and restore morale was the Savior, the Emperor of the Imperium.
All of them hoped the Savior would appear and turn the tide.
Yet what truly worried the defenders was that even with the battle having reached this stage, the Savior remained silent, with no word at all.
Rumors had even begun spreading that the Savior was not on Holy Terra at all, that he had left the Sol System before the battle even began.
"Perhaps His Majesty the Savior is preparing some kind of counteroffensive plan..." Garradon shook his head, unwilling to believe the Savior had quietly abandoned them.
He preferred to believe the Savior was carrying out some secret plan in the shadows, one that would wipe out every Chaos abomination and traitor in a single blow.
Buzz.
Suddenly, a brilliant light appeared in the void.
Garradon and Frick looked up and saw that the radiance came from a floating fortress ahead of the line.
A psychic barrier had formed across its surface.
That was clearly a massive ritual array erected by the Grey Knights. They were attempting to establish a psychic shield to block the spreading dark rift.
"The Grey Knights are trying to stop it. That must be an order from Holy Terra command. They've started testing countermeasures!"
At that moment, every senior Imperial officer nearby turned to the floating fortress, their hearts full of hope.
If the psychic barrier could block the dark rift, it meant the Iron defense line had found a way to stop the crisis.
Instead of merely waiting for darkness to engulf them.
Yet before long, the hope in their eyes turned into an even deeper terror.
Garradon crushed the railing in his hand, his body trembling slightly.
"The Grey Knights failed. Our line can't stop that abhorrent Warp rift either!"
In their field of vision, the floating fortress, wrapped in its bubble-like psychic shield, was engulfed by the iridescent black mist of the dark rift.
Under Chaos's assault, the psychic barrier visibly dimmed.
More terrifying still, from within the dark rift emerged an enormous hand made of black fog, vast beyond reason, and it crushed the psychic shield in a single motion.
It was as though some hateful giant spanning the cosmos had casually brushed aside an insect in its path, with not the slightest trace of mercy.
In the end, the floating fortress went completely silent and vanished into the endless abyss of darkness without a sound.
Garradon and Frick stood frozen, staring at that horrifying sight for a long time, unable to recover.
Any human who witnessed the boundless might of a higher-dimensional existence would be deeply shaken by that unknown terror.
Then Garradon's command channel crackled to life with the resolute voice of the Vigilant, the Lord of the Bastion.
The order came through:
"Garradon, command's defensive plan against the rift has failed.
"The 113th War Zone under your command will suffer Chaos's most direct impact. We cannot determine what consequences will result if the Iron defensive line is struck by the rift.
"Withdraw immediately."
As far as Holy Terra command was concerned, the Iron line in this region was most likely already lost.
They would do better to evacuate personnel at once and preserve what fighting strength they still could.
"My lord, there is no longer any chance for the 113th War Zone to withdraw. May the holy light protect us."
Garradon swallowed hard and replied to the Lord of the Bastion.
"Before we fall, we'll transmit as much intelligence as possible to help command-"
But before he could finish, the transmission was forcibly severed by some unknown Chaos power, replaced by a burst of shrill howling and screaming.
Even the Third Battle Company Captain of the Imperial Fists felt a shiver run through his heart.
At some point, the dark rift had accelerated its spread and was now pouring directly over the colossal defense platform.
Everything in its path, every object and every piece of wreckage, was swallowed.
Then one branch of the rift punched through the platform and many other surrounding sectors besides.
Garradon could only watch helplessly as the line he defended was pierced through and the massive platform was split in half.
It was both a physical and a supernatural sundering. The platform still existed, yet through its center a strange road had been carved out.
And not only that. Within that special road of darkness, countless figures were moving.
"O Savior... I know what those Warp abominations are trying to do now. This is a passage that bypasses every defensive line. They want to-"
Garradon's eyes widened, more fear and shock rising in his heart.
But before he could do anything, more Chaos daemons came surging out with howling shrieks, flooding toward the Imperial defenders on this line.
They dragged down one human soldier after another, leaving blurred trails of blood across the ground.
Now the Imperial defenders had lost the protection of their fortifications and their advantage in firepower.
They would have to face daemonic claws directly.
"For the Savior!"
After a brief wave of panic, the defenders quickly formed a new line.
This time, they relied on a wall of flesh and blood.
The human soldiers did not lose their ability to fight in the face of terror. If anything, they became fiercer, launching themselves into savage close combat with the daemons.
Even mortal armies had the courage to raise their blades and fight those loathsome horrors to the death.
"Humanity..."
Behind the veil, the Chaos Gods watched the scene unfold, and a trace of wariness flickered through Their gaze.
Over these past centuries, under the Savior's rule, humanity had grown stronger and stronger.
Stronger than it had ever been under the Cursed One's rule.
That was a threat.
Fortunately, that threat would soon be removed, whether it was the Cursed One, the Savior, or humanity's unity and fearlessness.
All of it would be torn apart completely.
"Tremble, Cursed One!" Khorne, the Blood God, roared.
He could even sense the deep concern emanating from Terra's Golden Throne.
That was something unprecedented.
A high-dimensional ripple spread faintly outward, sweeping across Terra and suppressing the power within the Imperial Palace that had tried to surge forth.
For the first time, the Chaos Gods stood utterly firm.
By burning their own blood, They had finally shattered the Iron defenses the Savior had built.
And the divine artifact Shadow of Light from New Dragonwood Star was about to arrive as well. The Cursed One, that withered skeleton upon the Throne, would no longer be able to threaten Them.
...
Inside a floating fallen superstructure, Chaos daemon elites gathered in feverish excitement.
Bloodlust blazed openly in their eyes, and their hatred could no longer be restrained.
"Heh. So the moment has finally come. The power of Chaos is truly magnificent..."
Horus gripped the Worldbreaker in his hand, his black cloak snapping wildly in the storm born of Chaos.
The vast shadow of New Dragonwood Star made his presence even more imposing.
The Dark Emperor had received fresh blessings from the gods, sweeping away his earlier decline and restoring his sovereign might.
More importantly, the Chaos Gods had used divine force to tear open a passage through the Iron defense lines, one that led directly to Terra.
This passage, created by Their will and imbued with both physical and supernatural force, was not something any defensive line could stop.
That meant every defense the Savior had constructed was now useless, whether the Iron Wall in space or the many defensive lines across Terra itself.
Before Chaos, they were as flimsy as paper.
From this point on, Horus had no need for any command artistry whatsoever. All he had to do was lead his elites through the passage, storm the Imperial Palace, and fight his way to the Golden Throne.
Then the siege of Terra would finally end.
"Now, no one can stop me. I am unstoppable..."
Horus let out a cold laugh and crushed the head of a senior Custodian commander beneath his boot. The man had been utterly worthless.
The Imperial defenders had completely lost their advantages in logistics and firepower. They could neither halt the spread of the dark rift nor cover Horus's forces with massed bombardment.
Under such circumstances, Horus did not believe there was any being left who could stop him, whether Primarch, Grey Knight, or anything else.
Even if the Savior himself arrived, the result would be the same. So declared the Dark Emperor.
In the void, the dark rift continued spreading toward Terra, punching through one Iron defensive line after another.
Eight in total.
And behind those Iron lines were fleets dragging all manner of giant platforms and construction materials, as though urgently building something new.
The New Imperium was repairing and constructing fresh defenses even in the middle of battle?
At the sight of that, Horus felt his liver and kidneys start to ache again. Just how insane was that Savior?
If not for the Chaos Gods using higher-dimensional authority to dismantle the Savior's defenses, they could have spent decades battering at those lines without necessarily destroying them.
A pity.
All of the Savior's vast investment and labor had been rendered meaningless, turned to nothing.
"I'd love to see the Savior's face twisted in regret and fear."
Horus smiled coldly.
That timid, overly cautious man, stripped of his defenses and firepower, was probably left with no choice but to flee in trembling terror.
Those so-called sacred weapons the Savior had developed might work well enough against ordinary greater daemons, but against a Primarch like Horus, one who had mastered authority itself?
They were worthless.
That was Horus's advantage. He stood between humanity and Chaos, almost immune to most forms of holy psychic power.
"As for you, Rogal Dorn... do you still dare show yourself before me?"
Horus lifted his gaze toward a distant region, likely the core of Terra's command structure.
But now that the Iron defensive lines had failed, that command center no longer had any value at all. It was not even worthy of being personally assaulted by the Dark Emperor.
If poor, pitiful Rogal Dorn dared come and try to stop him, then Horus intended to drown him in humiliation and agony.
Better yet, he could carry Dorn's severed head before the false Emperor. Perhaps that dry skeleton on the Throne would even shed a few hypocritical tears.
Just as Horus had once smashed Sanguinius into a mound of flesh before the false Emperor's very eyes ten thousand years ago.
"I wonder what the false Emperor would think after seeing the son he trusted turn his blade against him?"
Horus glanced sideways at the daemonized Sanguinius beside him, excitement stirring in his heart.
Perhaps having Sanguinius personally cut off Rogal Dorn's head in front of the Emperor would be an even finer spectacle.
"Father, I will drive my blade into your chest with my own hands!"
Consumed by hatred and blasphemy toward the false Emperor, the Dark Emperor led the fallen Primarchs, greater daemons, and daemon elites onto the road of the dark rift leading to Terra.
The bombardment from the Imperial battlefleets and the Iron defensive lines struck the dark rift and achieved nothing.
Everything was swallowed whole.
The rebounding force only inflicted even greater damage on the Imperial side.
That meant massed armies had already lost their usefulness. From here on, this would become a brutal melee between elites.
Horus and the Chaos creatures were filled with battle-lust, their loathsome presence enough to chill the hearts of men.
Battle.
Pure battle.
The weak would be struck down and torn apart.
...
Holy Terra Command.
The place was still locked in extreme tension and relentless activity, with every commander carrying out his duty and trying to salvage what they could.
"The plan has failed..."
Standing before the observation dome, Rogal Dorn stared at the dark rift spreading toward Holy Terra and devouring everything in its path, his expression heavy.
Then he turned in silence and began walking toward a certain place.
Now he was going to intercept Horus and the fallen Primarchs.
There were many of them, and their momentum was overwhelming.
On the Imperial side, however, the loyalist Primarchs had failed to return in time.
Only he remained, utterly alone.
It would likely be a battle from which he would never return, but the Lord of the Bastion went all the same, without a trace of hesitation.
So what if that traitor Horus had broken through?
He was the Imperium's final wall.
Unless the enemy walked over his corpse, he would never allow anyone to harm the Emperor, his father.
"My lord."
At that moment, Tarko followed after him and offered the worthy Primarch a solemn salute.
He too understood how difficult this battle would be, and what a cruel price it might demand.
Quietly wiping away the tears at the corners of his eyes, Tarko said softly,
"You have been granted authorization to use all Savior-class armaments. Please proceed to the Redemption Arsenal. I hope those weapons will help you in the battle to come..."
(End of Chapter)
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