-Subterranian of Forge Sector 17-K Gamma
A root operative found an ominous grunting noises drifted through the half-collapsed ruins on her area.
Below her, a crude chamber loomed bio-luminescent fungus clung to decayed walls, casting a sickly pall over twelve hulking forms.
Aberrants.
Misshapen arms ended in grotesque claws the size of servo-lifters. Bone bulged obscenely under split, scaled flesh, mottled with bruised purple and wet grey. Eyes gleamed with a mindless predatory hunger, thick ropes of drool hanging from lipless jaws crammed with human and xeno teeth alike.
Imperial record noted they have the capabilities to take down a space marine in melee combat.
"Root Actual this is root 54, contacts on point Alpha one, twelve Aberrants no patriach or primus." the ROOT operative reports, perched atop a gantry, observing a crude, torch-lit chamber below.
[Clean kill. No alarms] Joe ordered.
The root monomolecular blade flared to life with no audible hissed, its field tuned for null-signature emission.
"Dialing out." the root agent report as in two mere seconds she has return to material world
Dropping From the ceiling, her blade cleaving the first Aberrant's thick, twisted neck. Before the others reacted, she was among them, a blur of flesh and monomolecular steel. Two abberants was cut from their midwaist area as their bodies slowly crumple to the ground.
One Aberrant swung a rusted mining pick. She sidestepped with ease, the weapon passing through air as if she weren't there, a half-phased shadow, before her blade drove into its skull.
Another falling to her speed.
The remaining brutes surged, but too late.
Locust swarms converged on the area, chewing through xeno flesh and crude weapons alike.
"Lair clear," the operative voxed. "Minimal resistance. Synaptic resonance absent."
[Continue the sweep,] Joe ordered.
On the surface, ANBU teams moved through the ruin.
Every possible location is being scoured. Dead genestealers devoured by nanite swarm masking the shinobi presence.
Alexander led his unit along, phase-cloaked steps silent against corroded deck plating.
The ANBU team moved soundlessly through the maintenance vent, phase cloaks engaged, their material forms displaced half a heartbeat from reality. The air reeked of ancient rust, decay, and the sour stink of xeno presence.
Below them, a patrol of Purestrain Genestealers prowled the corridor, claws clicking softly against ferrocrete. Their predatory senses twitched, tasting the air but the shinobi passed within arm's reach, intangible specters beyond their detection.
No breath. No sound. No trace.
Alexander informs command and it doesn't take long for the nanite swarm to converge and devour the patrolling genestealers.
Alexander's hand flicked in a silent signal. The team advanced, grav-lock boots barely grazing the vent's surface.
They reached the terminus of the ventilation shaft, one by one dropping down into the chamber beyond.
And there it was, a genestealer primus, accompanied by a magus. It was frantically asking a neophyte hybrid commander on what is going on as communication with outer defence is gone.
The chamber stank of sweat, oil, and fear. The Neophyte commander clutched his battered vox-unit, its display flickering static.
The Primus loomed over him, bio-enhanced frame tense.
"Report, now! Why is the outer perimeter silent?" the Primus snarled, his voice a mix of guttural growl and near-human precision.
The Neophyte hybrid swallowed, adjusting his crude lascarbine.
"All defensive posts went dark, My Lord. Vox links dead. No sign of breach markers. No movement on proximity auspex. It's as if… as if they vanished."
The Magus psychic glimmering eyes toward the Neophyte.
"This sector was defended against Imperial recon sweeps. The prey should not have reached this deep undetected." His voice was calm, but strands of warp-static flickered around him.
"Then explain it, tens of thousand defenders gone!" the Primus barked at the faltering Neophyte hybrid.
"I… we don't know. The sentries just—stopped responding. And then… gaps in the network. Auspex feeds glitching. Now entire clusters of genestealers are just… gone."
The Magus's third eye flared, a surge of warp-light crackling at his brow — but whatever incantation he began died unfinished. His world tilted.
He saw his own feet.
And beside him, two more heads hit the floor with wet, final thuds. Blood spurt from severed necks, painting the chamber in arterial arcs.
His last breath rasped from slack lips.
His last sight was a gloved hand, slick with blood, descending toward his face. He tried to scream but there was no throat to command.
The darkness took him.
"Command, this is ANBU Actual. Primus target neutralized. Magus confirmed down. Both heads secured. Requesting directive." Alexander voxed, his tone cold and precise.
[Copy, ANBU Actual. Stand by…]
A brief silent as commanders discuss among themselves.
[New orders: extract both heads. Priority asset status confirmed.]
"Acknowledged. Moving to exfil."
[Anbu actual to all shinobi. Primus head has been secured]
"Roger." Joe replied as he moved alone through the lower sanctum.
His HUD data spiked. A unique synaptic signature. High probability of the presence of a Patriarch.
He phased through a reinforced bulkhead, solidifying within a vast vault suffused with psychic miasma.
His phase field grants him cover from psychic detention.
As he walks deeper, Bio-luminescent cysts lined the walls. And then a throne of skulls, rusted cogitators, and desecrated Mechanicum relics sat the monster.
A Patriarch.
Four-clawed, hulking as its consuming a human hand.
"Dialing out." Joe said as his phase field flickers and he enter material world.
The patriach face turning toward him, psychic hunger radiating from its form.
A normal human would quivers in fear facing an alpha class apex predator psychic attack.
Yet joe merely scoff as null field deflected the attack.
Joe's monomolecular blade hummed to life.
The Patriarch leapt like a blur.
Claws slashing toward the shinobi's throat.
Joe sidestepped, the talons slicing empty air. The second swipe came low, Joe dropped, the attack passing overhead.
They traded lightning-fast blows. The Patriarch a savage whirlwind, Joe a ghost, vanishing and reappearing mid-motion. Claws hissed within centimeters of flesh. Joe's blade scored shallow lines across the xeno's chitin.
Then, a miscalculation.
With powerful psychic burst, the ground tremble as Joe stagger. Then talon, managed to clipped his shield.
His energy barrier shimmered, dispersing the impact. No injury. At least physical.
Joe's gaze hardened.
"Enough games."
He launched forward, grav-locks boots reversing for an explosive burst further enhancing his speed. The Tyranid lunged with a crushing sweep. Joe twisted mid-air, the claw graze Joe's pauldron, his shield shattering at the powerful impact.
At the same time, Joe struck its neck.
A horizontal slash, clean and surgical.
The Patriarch's head separated from its shoulders. its head rolled once, leaving a thick trail of bluish ichor.
Its body spasmed, talons twitching reflexively as neuro-synaptic impulses decayed. The psychic miasma in the chamber collapsed like a dying breath.
Joe flicked locust blood from his blade.
"Root Actual to all units. Primary target neutralized. Patriarch dead."
[Confirmed. Purge residual xenos. AI's controlled defences is sweeping perimeter. Prepare for extraction.]