The Thunderhawk Gunship carved a silent trajectory through the void, departing from the faintly trembling space that was the lingering embers of House Horn's final annihilation.
Inside the cabin, the heavy silence was more suffocating than any battlefield clamor.
The frost on their Power Armour slowly melted, mixing with still-wet xenos fluids and the blood of their comrades, dripping onto the metal deck with a monotonous, chilling sound.
Gaius sat upright, attempting to calm his turbulent mind with the meditation techniques he had mastered in training, but it was useless.
His fingertips unconsciously traced the warm amulet on his chest, while his other hand tightly clutched the simple badge left by his mother, or rather, the female agent who had protected him with her life.
The cold touch of metal could not dispel the burning questions in his mind.
Fragments of Gregory Horn's memory, like malevolent specters, still lingered at the edges of his consciousness.
They were not clear, coherent images, but rather a sensation, a cold, calculating undertone filled with twisted ambition and blasphemous desires, seeping into his thoughts.
With every breath, he could almost smell the cloying scent of preservatives and decaying tissue within the living fortress; with every heartbeat, he seemed to feel the subtle creeping and fusion of the bio-mechanical nanites beneath his Black Carapace, acting both as repairmen for damage and as a lurking fifth column, constantly reminding him of the impurity of his bloodline.
Deeper still was the cold truth from the data chip Sergeant Thayne had given him.
He was not a product of love, not a warrior scion naturally conceived under the Emperor's will, but a plan, a product, a tool meticulously concocted in a growth vat and gene-coding array, intended to carry the blasphemous ambition of House Horn.
His birth stemmed from calculation, his growth was under surveillance, and even his joining the Ultramarines, was that also a part of this vast conspiracy?
Were every proud choice in his past life, those acts of courage and resilience upon which he had built his self-identity, merely pre-programmed functions at work?
This sense of nihilism almost consumed him.
"Hey." A rough voice interrupted his descent.
Dorian took off his helmet, revealing a face streaked with sweat and gunpowder, and roughly shoved an energy supplement into Gaius' hand.
"Don't make that face like you swallowed a spoiled Ogryn.
Drink it, that's an order, from your handsome and wise teammate."
Gaius mechanically took it but made no move.
Dorian smacked his lips, then sat opposite him, his Power Armour emitting a heavy grinding sound.
"Listen, kid.
I don't care what kind of messed-up stuff those Tech-Priests and heretic madmen shoved into your brain.
With me, things are simple: you wear the same Power Armour as us, your Bolter came from the same armory as ours, and the color of your blood is Imperial standard Astartes red.
When you're at my back, I've never died once, and I've taken down at least a dozen bastards trying to grope me.
That's enough.
Even if you're a Genestealer hybrid, as long as you're still shooting at the Emperor's enemies, you're Declan Catonia's brother."
His words were crude and direct, yet they smashed through some of the frozen barriers like a Warhammer.
On the other side, Elisa Cole was scanning the damaged area of Gaius' Black Carapace on his left side with precise instruments, data streams cascading down the screen like a waterfall.
Her brow was furrowed.
"Nanite fusion speed is exceeding expectations.
They seem to be… learning your neural signal patterns and attempting to establish a… symbiotic compensatory circuit.
It's very strange; they haven't shown aggression, but rather are optimizing the response speed of the damaged area."
"Optimizing?" Gaius' voice was a little hoarse, "Or modifying?"
"For now, it appears to be optimization." Elisa looked up, her gaze calm and professional, "Your reaction speed has improved by 3.7 percent compared to before the injury.
But the long-term effects of this unknown technology cannot be assessed.
Continuous monitoring is required.
Sergeant, I recommend that upon returning to Macragge, you immediately request a joint diagnosis from the Chapter's Chief Apothecary and Chief Physician."
Sergeant Talos nodded, his gaze beneath the faceplate sharp as an eagle's.
"Until clear instructions are received from high command, this matter is to be known only to the core members of Squad Seven.
Catonia, guard your tongue; if I hear a single word about this on any unauthorized channel, I will personally throw you into a reactor."
Dorian exaggeratedly made a motion of locking his mouth.
Talos turned to Gaius: "Gaius, remember the core meaning in Catonia's foolish words.
The Chapter judges a Brother by his actions and loyalty, not by his origin.
Your actions today have already proven your stance.
Do not let the shadows of the past obscure your future path.
The Emperor grants us modified bodies, and He also grants us a will that transcends physical limitations.
Control it, master it, just as you master your Power Armour and Bolter."
The Sergeant's words carried an undeniable power, temporarily steadying Gaius' mind.
Yes, actions.
He chose to destroy the fortress, chose to protect his comrades, chose to confront Gaius' conspiracy.
These were his choices, not driven by programming.
Just then, the Thunderhawk's communicator received an encrypted channel access request, identified as coming from the confidential deliberation chamber of Chapter Master's flagship, the Macragge's Honour.
Talos immediately connected.
"Sergeant Talos," the Chapter Master's voice came through the communicator, and even with encryption, the heavy pressure it contained was evident, "Mission brief received.
The situation… is extremely grave.
The information you've brought back is invaluable, but it also brings an unprecedented crisis."
Silence fell over the entire cabin.
"Based on the genetic identification features and energy signature patterns you provided, we have conducted a Level One secret scan of all personnel on the Macragge's Honour and its escort fleet." The Chapter Master's voice paused, as if uttering the next words required immense resolve, "The results confirm your fears.
The traitors' contamination… does indeed exist."
A chill ran down the spines of all the squad members.
"Preliminary screening has identified three anomalous energy signature units on the Macragge's Honour, located in the lower engine section, Armory Dispatch Room Three, and… the Apothecary's auxiliary laboratory." Every word from the Chapter Master hammered on their nerves, "Other vessels are still being scanned.
We cannot alert them; we must ensure a decisive strike and complete control before they can potentially initiate self-destruct or issue a warning."
He continued to issue orders: "Squad Seven, you are the only squad with direct experience in identifying and dealing with such targets.
I order you to immediately proceed to the aforementioned locations, under the guise of routine security checks or equipment maintenance, approach the targets, and conduct final confirmation.
Once confirmed as clones or modified individuals, immediately purge them with thunderous force, preserving their brain cores or data storage units as much as possible for research.
Lethal force is authorized.
May the Emperor guide your judgment."
The communication ended.
Dead silence in the cabin.
Purge internal.
The order had truly been given.
They were not going to a battlefield against xenos or heretics, but against their own, against those wearing the same blue Power Armour, who might have trained together, drank together, and bled side-by-side on battlefields as "brothers." The sting of suspicion had already pierced the heart of everyone in Squad Seven.
"You all heard it." Sergeant Talos' voice broke the silence, cold as a starship's hull, "Put away any unnecessary emotions.
We are now the Chapter's surgical scalpel; our mission is to precisely excise the rotten flesh to prevent a larger infection.
Any hesitation or weakness could lead to the destruction of the entire Chapter and even more loyal factions.
Remember who you are, remember your duty.
Ultramarines, follow me!"
"For the Emperor and Macragge!" The squad members responded in a low tone, but the battle cry lacked its usual fervor, replaced by a heavy, resolute determination.
The Thunderhawk changed course, silently merging into the vast shadow of the Macragge's Honour.
The docking process was unusually quiet; there were no usual ground crew to guide them, and the guards at the passage entrance had been replaced by elite warriors from the Chapter Master's Honor Guard, with unfamiliar faces and sharp eyes, who silently saluted and then cleared the way.
Squad Seven quickly entered the starship.
The massive hull, usually filled with the roar of engines, the movement of personnel, and the hum of machinery, was now excessively quiet; a sense of impending storm permeated the air.
According to command priority, they first proceeded to the lower engine section, located deep within the warship.
The target was a Power Supervisor Tech-Sergeant in that area, responsible for coordinating energy distribution.
The deeper they went into the engine section, the hotter the air became; massive energy conduits hummed like the blood vessels of a metal beast within the bulkheads, emitting the smell of ozone and machine oil.
Several oil-stained Servitors and junior Tech-Adepts were busy, casting awed yet slightly puzzled glances at the fully armed Astartes squad passing by.
Talos made a gesture, and the squad immediately dispersed into a standard tactical formation.
Dorian and Elisa took advantageous positions on either side of the corridor, vigilant for any sudden developments.
Talos and Gaius walked towards the supervisor's control room.
Inside the control room, the target, Tech-Sergeant Gorlan, stood before a massive control console, monitoring dense streams of data.
He looked no different from an ordinary technical staff member: slightly graying hair, a focused expression, and an oil-stained uniform.
Hearing the sound of Power Armour, he turned around, a standard, slightly weary, professional smile on his face.
"Sergeant Talos? And… Brother Hohn?" He wiped his hands, "How may I assist you?
Does a landing craft need urgent maintenance? I see your Thunderhawk just returned."
His words and actions were flawless.
But the moment his gaze met Gaius', Gaius felt an extremely subtle, almost imperceptible tremor from the nanite cluster on his left side, as if it had sensed a kindred presence.
At the same time, the amulet on his chest warmed slightly, and an instinctive sense of alertness, originating from deep within his genes, arose.
Fragments of the Primarch's memory flickered, indicating some unnatural, meticulously mimicked life rhythm.
Talos' expression remained unchanged: "Routine security check, Sergeant.
Warp fluctuations have been frequent recently, and the Chapter Master ordered a double-check of all critical posts." As he spoke, he casually approached, scanning the control room environment.
"Of course, of course, safety first." Gorlan nodded in agreement, stepping aside from the control console, "All readings are within safe thresholds, and the output of the Third Engine Group is even 0.X percent more stable than expected…"
His words abruptly stopped.
Because Gaius, at Talos' silent signal, had imperceptibly moved to a position that could simultaneously block the doorway and the control console.
He did not raise his weapon, but the change in his posture alone conveyed immense pressure.
Gorlan's smile froze for an instant, so brief it was almost imperceptible. But the fleeting glint of cold calculation deep in his eyes did not escape Gaius and Talos' sharp gaze. It wasn't human emotion; it was more like the flash of a machine assessing a situation.
"Sergeant," Talos' voice dropped, imbued with undeniable authority, "please release your data-slate and security key for further inspection."
This was a pre-set confirmation command. If the individual cooperated, there was still a minuscule chance of misjudgment. But if…
All human expression vanished from Gorlan's face, replaced by an absolute, inhuman emptiness and serenity. "Identification: Purge Protocol initiated," his flat, mechanically synthesized voice announced.
Almost simultaneously, his right hand slammed towards an inconspicuous red button beneath the control panel, the emergency manual trigger for engine overload!
"Stop him!" Talos' Bolter was already raised.
But Gaius was faster! The superhuman reaction speed, enhanced by nanomachines and Primarch memories, kicked in. He didn't shoot; instead, he lunged forward like lightning, his Power Fist striking first and hard against Gorlan's arm!
Crack! The sickening sound of bone shattering echoed. Gorlan's arm bent at a grotesque angle; the button remained unpressed.
But the clone's counterattack followed! Seemingly impervious to pain, his intact left hand swiftly drew a high-frequency monomolecular blade from his waist, thrusting it directly at Gaius' face! Its speed far exceeded what a normal Tech-Sergeant should possess!
Clang!
Talos' Power Sword precisely parried the lethal strike, sending sparks flying.
"Target confirmed as traitor! Purge!" Talos roared.
The roar of Bolters was deafening in the narrow control room. Talos and Gaius fired simultaneously, a barrage of Bolter rounds instantly tearing through Gorlan's body. Yet, even as he was hit, the shattered form still tried to lunge towards the control panel, an inhuman obsession flickering in his eyes.
The battle only ceased when Dorian rushed in from the doorway, utterly obliterating him with a short burst from his Heavy Bolter.
Smoke filled the air. The control panel was riddled with holes, sparking wildly, and alarms shrieked. The actual technicians and Servitors collapsed in terror.
"Examine the remains! Search for a data core!" Talos commanded.
Elisa quickly stepped forward, sifting through the wreckage, and finally carefully collected a small, not entirely damaged piece of biological tissue, glowing with an unusual faint light, into a specialized magnetic containment unit.
"Partially preserved. Can attempt to read," she reported concisely.
Gaius looked at the mess on the floor, once clad in an Imperial uniform and bearing a familiar face, and his stomach churned. This wasn't a battle; it was an execution. But the inhuman reactions and the final moments of madness clearly indicated that this was definitely not his brother.
"The first," Talos' voice was cold, devoid of any joy of victory, "To Armory Dispatch Room Three. Quickly! Alarms have been triggered; other traitors may have been warned!"
The Squad swiftly departed the chaotic engine room, leaving the Honor Guard to secure the scene.
The target in Armory Dispatch Room Three was an Armorer. With the experience of the first encounter, this operation was more swift and decisive. They approached the target under the pretext of dispatching supplies, and Gaius once again relied on the subtle nanomachine resonance and the amulet's warning to confirm the target beforehand.
This clone seemed more adept at combat, attempting to detonate an entire crate of plasma grenades to take them all with him, but Dorian interrupted his action with a precise shot from his Heavy Bolter, and he was subsequently eliminated by concentrated fire. Elisa once again successfully recovered a partial biological tissue sample.
Two targets were eliminated consecutively, and although the process was perilous, it went relatively smoothly. However, as they hurried to the final location, the Apothecary's auxiliary laboratory, a strong sense of unease enveloped Gaius. The guards here were even more stringent, and… the atmosphere was eerie.
The laboratory was located in a relatively secluded area of the battleship, usually frequented only by the Apothecary and his assistants. The air was thick with the potent smell of disinfectant and various chemical agents, even masking the scent of steel and oil. The corridor was empty and silent, with only the footsteps of their Power Armors echoing.
The target was the laboratory's Chief Assistant Apothecary, named Solarn. He was said to be a skilled and highly respected Apothecary apprentice, who had even treated the injuries of many Squad Seven members.
When they arrived at the thick isolation door of the laboratory, they found it ajar, with faint, unstable light emanating from within.
Talos gave a hand signal for caution. Dorian and Elisa immediately sealed both ends of the corridor. Talos and Gaius, one on each side, slowly pushed open the isolation door.
The sight within the laboratory sent a shiver down the spines of the Astartes, who were accustomed to bloody scenes.
Various precision instruments were smashed, glass containers and culture vats shattered, and colorful reagents and unidentifiable organic tissue samples were scattered everywhere, mixing into a chaotic mess. The walls were splattered with gushing blood, not yet fully congealed. In the center of the laboratory, the target, Solarn, clad in a white researcher's robe, but mostly stained red with blood, was facing away from them, crouched on the ground, seemingly… gnawing on something.
Hearing the door open, Solarn slowly, and extremely unnaturally, turned his head. His face was covered in viscous blood and shredded flesh, his mouth stretched into an exaggerated arc, revealing blood-stained teeth. His eyes were no longer human, but a murky, milky white, swirling with biomechanical particles.
But he seemed to retain a trace of eerie "sanity."
"Ah… it's Sergeant Talos… and… Brother Gaius…" His voice was distorted, mixed with electronic static and wet gasps, "You… are too late… The ritual… has… begun…"
At his feet lay a mangled corpse, the owner of this laboratory, the loyal, elderly Apothecary.
"Traitor!" Talos roared, raising his Bolter.
"Traitor?" Solarn cackled, staggering to his feet. His movements became extremely uncoordinated, like a puppet on strings. "No… we are… the future… the evolution… Gaius' great creation…"
His gaze abruptly locked onto Gaius, his milky-white eyes erupting with greedy and fanatical light. "The perfect… prototype… return… to us… complete… the fusion…"
Gaius felt the nanomachines within him instantly become abnormally active, even attempting to influence his motor nerves, transmitting a strange "sense of kinship" to him. The amulet grew intensely hot, desperately resisting this invasion. Fragments of Gaius' memories surged again, this time more clearly, he saw countless versions of himself floating in culture vats, saw Solarn's face recording data on "him" in some laboratory…
"He… he knows me! He's targeting me directly!" Gaius struggled against the internal pull, raising his Meltagun.
"Eliminate him!" Talos ordered.
Bolter volley! But Solarn, or rather, whatever occupied his body, demonstrated terrifying speed and eerie abilities! He leaped like a spider in an inhuman posture, evading most of the fire, his broken limbs clinging to the ceiling, crawling in a twisted manner, while simultaneously spitting biological acid, highly corrosive and neurotoxic, from his mouth!
The acid splattered on their Power Armor, emitting sizzling corrosive sounds, and alarms blared.
"Emperor's curse!" Dorian roared, using his Heavy Bolter to block his escape routes.
Elisa attempted to release interference frequencies, but it seemed ineffective. "His signal frequency is constantly changing! Cannot effectively lock on!"
Solarn's target was always Gaius! He ignored the attacks of the others, screaming blasphemous words like "prototype" and "fusion," lunging at Gaius like a mad beast, his fingers mutated into sharp bone blades, thrusting directly at Gaius' heart!
Gaius fought back fiercely, his Power Fist clashing with the bone blades, producing an ear-splitting screech. The opponent's strength was astonishing, far exceeding that of the previous clones! That cold, inhuman will, transmitted through the nanomachine connection, frantically assailed Gaius' consciousness, attempting to dismantle his resistance.
"You are… one of us… resistance… is futile…" Solarn's face was almost pressed against Gaius' faceplate, his milky-white eyes filled with mad seduction.
"I! AM! AN ULTRAMARINE!" Gaius roared, channeling all his anger at his own fate, his disgust at the blasphemy, and his grief for fallen comrades into the strength of his right arm! The Meltagun was pressed against Solarn's abdomen!
A searing burst of light erupted!
Solarn let out a horrific shriek, utterly inhuman, his body violently twisting and vaporizing in the intense heat! But within that shriek, there was even a trace of a twisted, almost relieved sigh…
After the intense heat subsided, only a puddle of melted organic matter and metal residue remained on the ground, along with a half-melted, still faintly pulsating biological core.
The laboratory fell silent. Only the faint hum of the Power Armor's environmental systems and the heavy breathing of the Squad members could be heard.
Elisa stepped forward, carefully collecting the biological core.
Talos looked at the chaotic laboratory and the Apothecary's remains, heavy breaths emanating from beneath his faceplate. "Three targets… eliminated. Report to the Chapter Master."
But Gaius' heart could not find peace. Solarn's dying words, his targeted madness, and the abnormal resonance of the nanomachines within him… all clearly indicated that House Horn's conspiracy was far more profound and terrifying than mere cloning and replacement. They seemed to have deeper, more sinister plans and expectations for Gaius, the "prototype."
The purge had only just begun, and he had already become the eye of the storm. The shadow deep within his bloodline was engulfing him at an unprecedented speed.
He looked down at his hands, hands that had just destroyed a terrifying enemy, yet also felt the enemy's kindred power flowing in his veins. The path ahead was destined to be fraught with thorns and mist. And he had to grip his weapon tightly, moving forward with difficulty on the razor's edge between loyalty and bloodline, self and alienation.
Squad Seven silently departed the laboratory, permeated with the stench of death and blasphemy, heading towards the more complex battlefield deep within the battleship. The internal war and the external war simultaneously entered a more brutal phase.
The isolation door of the Apothecary's laboratory closed heavily behind him, temporarily sealing off the unholy stench of blood, chemicals, and burnt flesh.
But that smell, along with Solarn's crazed, twisted face and words in his dying moments, clung like a malignant growth, firmly lodged in the deepest consciousness of every member of Squad Seven, especially Gaius.
Fine residue, cooled after high-temperature melting of biological tissue, still clung to the gaps of his Power Fist's fingers.
Under the black carapace of his left half, the nanite cluster, having endured intense resonance and confrontation, now emitted an unusual, weary hum, like a swarm of venomous bees temporarily dormant after a frantic dance.
The amulet, pressed against his chest, had cooled from scorching hot to a constant, reassuring warmth, like a silent sentinel that had just repelled an invisible invasion.
"Prototype… fusion…" Solarn's inhuman shriek still echoed in his skull.
This was no simple clone; he seemed to know more, his madness pointing directly to the core of Gaius' existence.
The web of House Horn was far deeper and more sinister than they had imagined.
"Clearance complete.
Target silenced." Sergeant Talos' voice came through the squad's encrypted channel, breaking the suffocating silence.
His tone was the absolute calm of a thousand-times-honed, deliberately emotionless professional, like ice water extinguishing embers.
"Cole, what's the status on sample containment?"
"The biological core has been sealed in a highest-grade isolation container, and the external interference field is active.
Tissue fragment samples are also processed.
I recommend immediate transfer to the Chapter Master's direct Tech-Priest for analysis." Elisa's reply was equally precise and mechanical, but her fingers on the data-slate moved faster than usual, betraying her strained nerves.
Dorian spat heavily, his power armor's vox-caster amplifying the sound slightly, making it particularly jarring in the empty corridor.
"Pah! What the hell was that thing anyway?
More disgusting than Tyranids!
That last bit… it was like a tangled mess of flesh crawling out of a broken toy!"
His rough voice carried a hint of unnoticeable lingering fear, but more so, a boiling rage, pure anger at the desecration of life and the defilement of the sacred image of the Astartes.
"That is not for us to ponder, Catonia." Talos interrupted him, his gaze sharply sweeping over each team member, finally resting on Gaius for a moment.
"Our mission is to identify, eliminate, and collect evidence.
Thought and judgment are the responsibilities of the Chapter Master and the Convocation.
Put aside your personal emotions and maintain absolute focus.
Internal enemies are often more lethal than external ones, for they know our tactics and understand our weaknesses."
His words were like a cold iron band, forcibly tightening around the burgeoning chaos and doubt within the squad.
Talos' gaze met Gaius': "Gaius, report your status.
Has the abnormal activity of your nanites subsided?"
Gaius took a deep breath, trying to push his tumultuous thoughts into the deepest recesses of his mind, attempting to use his trained iron will to block out the noise originating from his bloodline.
"Temporarily stable, Sergeant.
But… the resonance is very strong.
Especially when approaching… those targets.
They seem to sense their kind, or… a higher-level control signal." He chose to use more technical terms, avoiding the more unsettling possibilities.
"Control signal…" Elisa sharply caught the word.
"Sergeant, this is crucial.
If Gaius' nanite network has a central control node or some command frequency, then Brother Hohn… and indeed all units potentially implanted with similar devices, could become potential controlled targets.
We need to find this signal source or a method to interfere with/block it."
"Upon returning to the bridge, this will be the focus of our report," Talos said in a deep voice.
"Now, maintain maximum alert.
Traitors will not sit idly by; clearing three points consecutively has likely stirred deeper rats."
The squad moved quickly along the silent corridor towards the bridge.
The atmosphere inside the warship became even more eerie; the usual patrols and personnel seemed to have been deliberately diverted from this area, with only cold metal walls and the unchanging hum of the engine accompanying them.
Behind every closed hatch, in the shadow of every ventilation duct, peering eyes seemed to hide.
The venom of suspicion had been injected into their veins; they were no longer merely walking on a familiar warship but groping through a labyrinth filled with invisible traps.
This suffocating tension reached its peak as they approached the lift platform leading to the upper bridge.
At the crossroads outside the lift platform, another squad had just completed a patrol mission and was resting in place.
They were the Tenth Tactical Squad, led by Veteran Sergeant Varran, an old soldier known for his bravery and somewhat rigid loyalty, with a gruesome scar on his face from a fight with an Ork Warboss.
Seeing Squad Seven approach, Varran raised a hand in greeting.
"Talos!
Heard you guys just ran an emergency recovery mission?
Quite a commotion in the engine room, even triggered an isolation alarm." Varran's voice was loud, with the rough quality characteristic of a veteran.
According to standard procedure, Talos should have stopped for a brief mission debriefing.
But at this moment, Talos merely nodded slightly, his steps not faltering: "Routine security check, Varran.
Found some technical issues, dealt with them.
We need to report to the Chapter Master immediately."
However, just as the two squads brushed past each other, Gaius' left-half nanites suddenly sent a sharp, distinctly malevolent sting!
Far more intense and urgent than when he had encountered Gorlan and the Armory Officer before!
At the same time, the amulet on his chest suddenly grew hot, emitting a warning tremor that only he could perceive!
His gaze snapped to one of the Tenth Squad members, a seemingly ordinary warrior, standing casually, even somewhat lazily, behind Sergeant Varran.
But the alarms within Gaius were screaming wildly!
"Sergeant!" Gaius' warning came almost before his consciousness could make a judgment, his voice distorted by urgency over the encrypted channel.
"Tenth Squad!
Second member from the left!
High-intensity signal reaction!
Extremely dangerous!"
In the very microsecond Gaius issued the warning, the targeted "member" moved!
His movements were faster than the usual limits of power armor, suddenly pouncing without warning on the unsuspecting Sergeant Varran, who was close at hand!
In his hand was an alien phase blade, glowing with an ominous green light, seemingly from nowhere!
It thrust directly at the junction of Varran's gorget and breastplate, a relatively vulnerable vital point of power armor!
It all happened too fast!
Sergeant Varran hadn't even fully processed Gaius' warning when the light of death approached his throat!
"Traitor!" Talos' roar and the boom of a Bolter exploded almost simultaneously!
But he was slightly further away, and his firing angle was partially obstructed by the bodies of other Tenth Squad members!
In the nick of time!
Under the extreme danger stimulus, Gaius' nanites, his combat instincts, and the precognitive memory from Guilliman produced a strange synergistic effect.
His body seemed to operate on its own, without conscious command, its speed soaring to an astonishing degree!
He abruptly slammed into a Tenth Squad member blocking his way, his Power Fist swinging out at a terrifyingly precise angle!
Clang, Screech!
The explosive clang of metal impact mixed with the sound of energy tearing!
Gaius' Power Fist narrowly parried the fatal thrust, the phase blade's high-frequency energy field violently rubbing against the Power Fist's force field, erupting in blinding sparks and energy turbulence!
The immense impact made Gaius' arm go numb, and the nanite cluster reported an overheating sensation from overload.
The clone assassin, failing his strike, a cold, non-human calculating light flashing in his eyes, immediately abandoned the attack and retreated like a phantom, simultaneously flicking his arm to send several miniature explosives rolling towards the densely packed group!
"Evade!" Talos' command rang out.
Boom!
Boom!
Boom!
Explosive shockwaves and shrapnel ravaged the narrow corridor!
Smoke billowed, and fragments flew!
"Open fire! Purge the traitors!" Sergeant Valan finally reacted, roaring with shock and fury, while raising his Bolter and unleashing a hail of fire on the rapidly retreating assassin. The other loyalist members of the Tenth Squad immediately reacted, finding cover and opening fire.
The corridor instantly devolved into an extremely chaotic, close-quarters melee where friend and foe were intertwined! Bolters flew, energy weapons shrieked, and shell casings rained down. The clone assassin displayed astonishing agility and combat skill, dodging and weaving through the dense network of fire, even using the bodies of loyalist warriors as temporary shields. From time to time, he launched cunning and vicious counterattacks with his phase blade or hidden weapons, instantly causing another member of the Tenth Squad to be severely wounded!
"Suppress him! Cole, disrupt his movements! Catonia, block the left corridor! Gaius, with me! Valan, take your men and stabilize the right flank!" Talos rapidly issued a series of commands amidst the chaos, his voice like a cold steel blade cutting through the din of battle. He realized that the assassin's goal was not merely to create chaos; he seemed to be desperately trying to break through towards the engine core area!
Gaius and Talos formed a pincer attack, lunging at the assassin. Firing Bolters at such close range risked friendly fire, so both men instinctively drew their melee weapons, Talos' power sword gleamed with the blue light of a disintegration field, while Gaius' meltagun was unsuitable for such close combat, so he drew his chainsword, its roaring teeth still stained with the filth of previous battles.
The assassin swung his phase blade, parrying Talos' powerful downward strike. With his other hand, a syringe-like device suddenly sprang out, thrusting violently towards the gap in Talos' neck armor!
Gaius' chainsword swept horizontally, forcing the assassin to defend himself. The syringe grazed Talos' shoulder armor, leaving a sizzling, corrosive mark.
"Thanks, Brother!" Talos growled, his offensive intensifying.
The three engaged in a perilous, close-quarters struggle within the narrow confines. Power sword and chainsword clashed against the xenos phase blade, the sparks almost igniting the air. The assassin's strength and speed far surpassed that of an ordinary Astartes, and his fighting style was unpredictable, as if some inhuman engine powered him. Gaius could clearly feel that when the nanomachines on his left side made contact with the opponent, what was transmitted was no longer a simple resonance, but an intense feeling of mutual repulsion and attempted mutual erosion! It was as if two creations of the same origin, but driven to different extremes, were locked in a furious struggle!
"You... imperfect... flawed... need... retrieval... purification..." The assassin's synthetic voice intermittently emerged between blows, his hollow eyes fixed on Gaius, filled with a twisted, programmatic "disgust."
These words further confirmed Gaius' uniqueness and danger.
"It is you who will be purged for the Emperor!" Talos roared, finding an opening with his power sword and severing the assassin's arm that held the phase blade!
As the severed arm flew, the assassin did not retreat. Instead, he exploited the momentary stiffness caused by the pain, lunging at Gaius, his intact arm reaching directly for Gaius' faceplate! Tiny, bio-electric-sparking probes shot from his fingertips!
Gaius instinctively tilted his head, bringing his chainsword up from below!
Rip!
The chainsword tore through the assassin's chest and abdomen, almost cutting him in half! But the assassin's fingertips also grazed the edge of Gaius' faceplate, causing a small burst of electrical sparks. A cold data stream attempted to forcefully breach the faceplate's system firewall!
"Warning! External intrusion attempt!" The armor system's alarm blared in Gaius' ear.
"Cole!" Talos shouted.
Elisa, who was already prepared, suddenly activated a localized electromagnetic pulse of maximum intensity! The invisible shockwave precisely covered the area where the assassin's remains and Gaius' faceplate made contact!
The assassin's remains convulsed violently, the lights in his eyes flickering rapidly before extinguishing, and the attempted data intrusion was forcibly terminated. Gaius' faceplate system hummed with an overload before returning to normal.
Supplementary Bolter fire completely shattered the assassin's remains, ensuring no further activity was possible.
The battle abruptly ceased. The corridor was a mess, permeated with the smell of gunpowder, blood, and ozone. One Tenth Squad warrior was dead, another severely wounded and lying on the ground. Sergeant Valan looked at his fallen subordinate and his gravely injured brother, his face ashen, his fists clenched, cracking with a sound that spoke of the immense shame and rage that almost consumed him. He walked up to Talos and Gaius, performing a solemn Aquila salute.
"Sergeant Talos, Brother Hohn... and Squad Seven. Thank you for your vigilance and assistance. The Tenth Squad owes you a life... and a chance to cleanse this disgrace." His voice trembled slightly with suppressed emotion, "I allowed such a... thing, to remain in my squad for so long without detection! This is an unforgivable dereliction of duty!"
"The traitor's disguise was extremely sophisticated, Sergeant Valan," Talos said, sheathing his power sword, his tone softening slightly. "This is not your personal fault; this is an unprecedented conspiracy that we collectively face. Now, what we need is unity and vigilance, not self-reproach."
He turned to Elisa: "Cole, immediately examine the wreckage for any potential data carriers. Sergeant Valan, please immediately regroup your squad, escort the wounded to the medical bay, and strengthen security in this area. We must assume there are more infiltrators."
Just then, Gaius' private comms channel received a highest-priority encrypted message. The sender was directly from the Chapter Master's office, and the command level was "Olympia", top emergency and absolutely confidential.
The message content was extremely brief: "Squad Seven Gaius, proceed immediately and alone to Meditation Chamber Three on the bridge flank. Repeat, proceed immediately and alone. Authorization code: Cinders of Prospero."
Go alone? At a time when internal purges had just begun, and dangers lurked everywhere? To a retreat chamber typically used by warriors for private reflection and psychic meditation?
A great sense of doubt and alarm instantly rose in Gaius' heart. The order itself seemed highly unusual. Was it a trap? A conspiracy exploiting his unique identity? Or did the Chapter Master have top-secret instructions that had to be delivered in person?
He looked at Talos, sharing the message content via encrypted channel.
Sergeant Talos' brow furrowed, his gaze beneath the faceplate sharp as a blade, clearly also assessing the risks behind this unusual order. "Olympia-level command... cannot be refused." He was silent for a few seconds, seemingly weighing the pros and cons. "Gaius, you must go. But maintain maximum alert, weapon in a ready-to-fire state, armor recorder fully active, real-time data synchronized to the squad's encrypted database. We will deploy an emergency response team around the meditation chamber." He emphasized, "Remember, no matter who is inside, no matter what he says, maintain your judgment. Your loyalty belongs only to the Emperor and Macragge, not to any potentially disguised identity."
"Understood, Sergeant," Gaius replied in a deep voice. He took a deep breath, re-holstered his chainsword, and checked the power cell of his Bolter. The nanomachines on his left side also seemed to sense their master's tension, emitting a low, expectant hum.
He turned and walked alone down the quieter, even somewhat eerie corridor leading to the designated meditation chamber. Each step felt as if he was treading on an invisible blade; loyalty and suspicion, mission and conspiracy, self and otherness, clashed fiercely in this silent passage.
His comrades watched his retreating figure, the atmosphere as heavy as a physical weight. The internal war was now pointing its sharpest spearhead at the most unique among them.
Gaius did not know what awaited him in the meditation chamber, whether it was a true edict from the Chapter Master, or another carefully laid trap, a killing game targeting the "prototype." He could only grip his weapon, relying on his damaged but enhanced will, and the amulet on his chest, as he walked towards that unknown darkness.
The corridor leading to Meditation Chamber Three seemed forgotten by the ship's own clamor. Thick soundproofing material swallowed the constant hum of the engines and the distant, faint alarms, leaving only the subtle hiss of Gaius' Power Armor joints and the heavy, drumming beat of his heart. The air circulation system also seemed sluggish here, filled with an old scent of incense dust mixed with cold metal, as if time itself had stagnated.
"Olympia-level directive. Prospero's Ash authorization code." These two phrases alone felt like heavy lead weights pressing on his nerves. The former signified an unquestionable command, an absolute will from the highest echelons of the Chapter; the latter was a code name fraught with taboo and destruction, closely linked to a brutal purge of a traitor Legion and its homeworld, symbolizing the Imperium's most ruthless and thorough method of dealing with internal corruption. Used in this moment, directed at him, it conveyed a chilling resolve.
Sergeant Talos and the squad members must have already set up defenses at key points in the outer passages; their presence was Gaius' only anchor at the moment. But he knew that if the meditation chamber was indeed a trap, and if the perpetrator was an enemy capable of circumventing Chapter Master Calgar's authority, external support could very likely be cleverly blocked or led astray. He had to face it alone.
The hum of the nanomachines in his left half became low and continuous, no longer the previous stinging or resonance, but more like a passive sensing of an unknown energy environment. The amulet on his chest maintained a constant warmth, like a vigilant eye in the dark.
He stopped before the heavy metal door marked "Meditation Chamber Three." The door was unlocked and slid open silently inwards, revealing a profound darkness within.
Gaius took a deep breath, adjusted his Bolter, placed his thumb on the trigger guard, and stepped inside.
The door closed quietly behind him, completely cutting off the last trace of external light.
Absolute darkness. It wasn't that there was no light source, but rather that the light seemed to be absorbed and distorted by some viscous substance. The meditation chamber's normally simple layout became blurred; the walls seemed infinitely far away, yet also incredibly close. Tiny, ash-like glowing motes of dust floated in the air, slowly swirling, outlining incomprehensible geometric patterns.
In the center of the room, a figure stood with its back to him. The person wore the deep blue Power Armor of a high-ranking Ultramarines officer, with a cloak draped down, but the details were indistinct, as if seen through a shimmering curtain of water.
"Gaius," a voice said. It was calm, serene, even possessing a hint of intellectual charm, yet it strangely lacked the natural inflections of human speech, like a synthesis of countless voices precisely modulated and layered together, echoing directly in Gaius' consciousness, bypassing his auditory organs.
"I come on Olympia's command," Gaius responded in a low voice, not lowering his weapon. His scanner was running at full capacity, but it only yielded a jumble of chaotic and contradictory readings, as if all physical laws had become unstable here.
"Command... yes, a necessary formality. To ensure this... meeting." The figure slowly turned around.
Gaius' heart lurched!
That face... it was the Chapter Master Calgar! But it wasn't! On that familiar, resolute face, there were no pupils in the eyes, but two constantly swirling, shifting, iridescent vortices, deep enough to swallow a soul. A non-human smile, full of endless calculation and amusement, played on his lips. Even more terrifying, Gaius' scanner showed nothing there, no life signs or energy readings, yet his eyes and senses clearly told him "Chapter Master Calgar" stood right there.
"You are not Chapter Master Calgar!" Gaius growled, instantly raising his Bolter to aim.
"Of course not, my dear prototype," "Chapter Master Calgar" chuckled, a laugh that sent a chill down Gaius' spine, "But this is the authoritative image you recognize, one that would make you come and be willing to listen, isn't it? Formality is always so important; it efficiently guides emotions and behaviors, just as genetic code guides the growth of flesh."
Those swirling eyes gazed at Gaius, and he felt his will being peeled away layer by layer, exposed to the coldest scrutiny.
"Who are you?" Gaius struggled against the invisible pressure; his amulet began to heat up, and the nanomachines pulsed with agitation.
"I am the Logic of Change, the Weaver of Fates, the Answer and the Birth-giver of Paradox." The voice took on a chanting tone. "You may call me 'Tzeentch' using the closest word in your narrow language. Or, more intimately, call me... the 'Architect' of your destiny."
Tzeentch! The Warp God! The Lord of Change!
A colossal terror, like an ice pick, stabbed into Gaius' consciousness! He was facing not merely an internal traitor, but a true Chaos God who manipulated everything, using all living beings as pawns!
"From the 'coincidental' survival on Kronus IV, to the 'accidental' discovery by the Ultramarines, to House Horn's perfectly timed 'inheritance' and unpleasant 'minor troubles'..." "Tzeentch" made an exaggerated, malicious expression with Chapter Master Calgar's face, "Even your inner struggles right now, your questioning of your own existence, your weighing of loyalty against bloodline... the taste of all this is so exquisite, so... full of potential."
It gently raised a hand, and the floating ash motes instantly condensed into miniature scenes: Gaius fighting bandits in his hometown, receiving the gene-seed implant, battling Tyranids, discovering the truth of House Horn's fortress, fighting clones... every critical juncture was clearly reproduced, as if it had been recorded long ago and was now merely being played back.
"You think you are choosing? No, you are merely walking along the path I have meticulously woven. House Horn? They are but a group of fools who thought themselves clever, yet were used by me to hone you, this 'tool.' Their blasphemous knowledge, their laughable desire for control, even their obsession with your 'prototype'... all were sparks of inspiration I subtly implanted."
It took a step forward, and though formless and insubstantial, it brought a mountain-like pressure upon Gaius. "Nanomachines? Yes, they are my gift, passed to you through House Horn's dirty hands. Without my will, how could they so perfectly integrate with your black carapace? How could they grant you foresight and strength when you needed it? And how could they... quietly build a bridge within you to a great destiny?"
"You lie!" Gaius roared, trying to use anger to dispel fear. "The Emperor's light will surely purify your evil lies!"
"The Emperor?" Tzeentch let out a soft, mocking laugh. "That decaying corpse sitting on a cold throne? He couldn't even change the fate of his own sons. All he gives you are heavy chains and blind devotion. But I, I give you truth, I give you power, I give you... true choice."
Its form began to shift, no longer Chapter Master Calgar, but transforming into Sergeant Thayne, then into Talos, then into Dorian, and finally even into Gaius himself, a Gaius with eyes burning with iridescent flames, surrounded by runes of knowledge and power!
"Look at this potential! Transcending the limitations of the Primarchs! Fusing the essence of human, xenos, machine, and even the Warp! You need not be anyone's tool; you can become the master! Knowledge, power, the mysteries of destiny... I can give you everything. As long as you... are willing to accept my guidance. Embrace change, Gaius, embrace your true destiny."
An unparalleled temptation, accompanied by whispers, invaded Gaius' mind. Power, enough to control his own destiny, no longer to be manipulated by anyone; truth, all the answers about the universe, about the Imperium, about his own origins... these desires, like poisonous vines, instantly wrapped around his mind, weary from struggle. The nanomachines in his left half seemed to be cheering, responding to the whispers, transmitting waves of intoxicating power.
Just then!
Boom!!!
An extremely muffled, yet soul-shaking roar came from a very distant direction! Even this meditation chamber, temporarily isolated by Warp energy, trembled!
Immediately after, a piercing, highest-level battle alert siren forcibly penetrated the spatial distortion, like cold steel needles piercing Gaius' consciousness!
", Alert! Alert! Large-scale Warp jump signature detected! Non-Imperial identification code! Coordinates locked on Cadian Sector, Haros IV! Orbital defense systems under attack! Repeat, Haros IV is under large-scale invasion! All combat units immediately enter highest readiness! All combat units, "
The alarm sound was like ice water splashing on Gaius, who was almost consumed by temptation! He jolted, the confusion in his eyes instantly dispelled by combat instinct! It was the Greenskins! The Orks had launched a massive attack!
Almost the instant the alarm blared, the bizarre spatial distortion within the meditation chamber began to fluctuate violently, like a reflection disturbed by a thrown stone.
The figure of the Chapter Master flickered erratically, and Tzeentch's calculating and playful expression showed, for the first time, a hint of… annoyed disturbance, as if a meticulously planned play had been unexpectedly interrupted at its climax.
"Ah… these noisy, crude, unpredictable fungal creations…" Its voice was no longer steady, acquiring a sharp, grating edge, "Always so… ill-timed… disrupting intricate schemes…"
Opportunity!
Gaius had no hesitation!
Taking advantage of the momentary instability in the Warp's power, caused by the massive external impact and the battleship's full combat alert status which reinforced the collective psychic field and Gellar Field, he abruptly raised his Bolter, not at the illusory figure, but at the meditation chamber's communication node and lighting system, firing wildly!
"For the Emperor!"
The roar of the Bolter and the flash of explosions tore through the eerie darkness and silence!
The forceful return of physical laws caused the distorted space to shatter and vanish like broken glass!
The illusion was gone.
The whispers were gone.
All that remained was the shattered meditation chamber and the lingering gunsmoke.
Gaius gasped for breath, cold sweat soaking his under-suit, as if he had just struggled out of the deepest abyss of a nightmare.
The nanomachines on his left side also quieted, and the amulet's temperature slowly dropped.
Was everything just now real? Or a highly sophisticated illusion? Or a terrifying combination of both?
He couldn't be sure, but that cold feeling of being targeted by a supreme evil entity was branded deep into his soul.
Sergeant Talos' urgent calls came through the comms channel: "Gaius! Report! What happened? We detected an internal explosion!"
"Encountered… Warp interference! Cleared! I'm fine, Sergeant!" Gaius forced himself to calm down; this was no time to dwell on fear.
"Return to your squad immediately! Highest combat alert order has been issued! Haros IV is under attack by an Ork WAAAGH! main force! We will be deploying for boarding actions in thirty standard minutes! Hurry!"
"Understood!"
Gaius took one last look at the chaotic meditation chamber, then turned and rushed out without hesitation.
Outside, Talos, Dorian, and others were fully armed and rushing over, visibly relieved to see him unharmed.
"Warp interference? At a time like this?" Talos' gaze was sharp as a blade.
"I'll give a detailed report later, Sergeant.
For now, combat takes priority." Gaius' voice had regained its composure, forcibly suppressing all shock and fear deep within his heart.
The skirmish with the Warp God was temporarily over, but the physical war with the greenskin Orks had begun.
Squad Seven rushed to the assembly deck at top speed.
The battleship was now in full war mode; various commands echoed through the broadcast, logistics personnel ran to transport ammunition, Tech-Priests chanted prayers to activate weapons, and fully equipped Astartes warriors silently converged into a blue steel torrent, their grim determination dispelling the lingering shadows of suspicion from the earlier internal purge.
On the assembly deck, dozens of Thunderhawk Gunships and Stormraven Gunships roared, ready for launch.
Chapter Master Calgar's voice boomed across the all-channels, loud and filled with undeniable power:
"Brothers of the Ultramarines! A loyal world is being engulfed by the savage tide of greenskin Orks!
Haros IV, a steadfast fortress of the Imperium, cries for aid!
We will not allow the filthy footprints of Orks to defile Imperial soil!
We will not let the blood of our people be shed in vain!
In the name of the Emperor and Guilliman, today, we shall deliver a devastating blow to these barbaric xenos!
For Macragge! For the Imperium! Advance!"
"For the Emperor! For Macragge!" The thunderous war cry echoed above the deck.
Gaius boarded the designated Thunderhawk Gunship with his squad.
Dorian clapped him heavily on the shoulder: "You gave me a scare just now! Glad you're alright! Good, we can take it out on those greenskin scum!" His straightforwardness was a comfort at that moment.
Elisa handed him a full power pack: "Your nanomachines showed abnormal peak readings earlier, but they're stable now.
Keep monitoring, brother."
Talos looked at Gaius, not speaking, but his gaze implied "we need to talk in detail later."
The Thunderhawk Gunship vibrated violently, launching into the cold void.
Through the observation window, the vast Imperial fleet could be seen adjusting its formation, countless gunships swarming towards the planet below like wasps from a nest.
Haros IV was now partially covered by green spore clouds and the fire of explosions; fierce aerial combat raged in orbit, with crude but numerous Ork warships and Imperial Navy lances and macro-cannons weaving a destructive tableau.
"Anticipate high-intensity anti-air fire! Prepare for impact!" the pilot warned.
The gunship began to shake violently, flak shells and crude laser beams constantly exploding around it.
Gaius gripped his Bolter, temporarily discarding all distractions, Tzeentch's whispers, the fog of his identity, the internal conspiracies.
At this moment, he only needed to be a pure fighting machine, an Angel of the Emperor, protecting humanity and destroying xenos.
The gunship burst through thick smoke, slamming down onto a scorched patch of the planet's surface.
The moment the ramp opened, a deafening WAAAGH!!! roar crashed in like a physical sonic cannon!
Before them was a green tide surging like a flood!
Countless tall, muscular greenskin Orks and Grots, clad in tattered metal armor and wielding various massive and crude weapons, let out mad howls, rushing towards the landing zone like a wave of destruction.
Their numbers were so vast, they seemed endless!
"For the Emperor! Open fire!" Talos' command was like thunder cleaving through the chaos.
Instantly, the Ultramarines' line unleashed a devastating volley!
Bolters, Heavy Bolters, plasma guns, and melta beams scythed down the foremost Orks like the grim reaper's scythe.
Limbs and green blood splattered everywhere.
But the Orks knew no fear!
As those in front fell, those behind immediately charged over their comrades' corpses, or even living bodies!
Though their weapons were crude, they were immensely powerful; massive solid-shot shells, crackling energy beams, and gas-spewing rockets continuously rained down on the Astartes line, exploding with deafening roars!
Gaius fired precise bursts, each Bolter round accurately striking an Ork's head or power core.
His nanomachines enhanced his reactions and accuracy, and the combat techniques provided by the Primarch's memories made him an efficient killing machine.
A massive Ork Nob, clad in heavy iron armor and wielding a multi-barreled dakka-gun, roared and charged, bullets spraying like a downpour.
Gaius calmly sidestepped the barrage, charged his melta-gun, and a searing beam instantly melted through the Ork Nob's chest armor, vaporizing a huge hole in its massive body!
"Left side! Lots of Grots climbing up!" Dorian yelled, while sweeping his Heavy Bolter at larger targets in the distance.
Dozens of small, scrawny Grots swarmed out of craters and ruins like a green tide, attempting to overwhelm the line with sheer numbers.
Gaius switched to his Chainsword, its roaring teeth tearing through the charging Grots like a lawnmower, shredding them in swathes!
Green blood and dismembered limbs splattered his armor.
The battle instantly entered its most brutal, bloodiest, white-hot phase.
The air was filled with the whistle of Bolter rounds, the roars of Orks, the clash of weapons, the boom of explosions, and the stench of burning corpses.
The Ultramarines formed an unbreakable blue defensive line, countering the endless green tide with Bolter fire and iron will.
Gaius was immersed in this primal slaughter, using combat to numb his deep-seated fear and confusion.
However, beneath the din of the battlefield, Tzeentch's whispers, like cold spider silk, seemed to still faintly echo in the deepest reaches of his soul, awaiting the next opportune moment.
The Ork WAAAGH! energy was so powerful and chaotic that it even temporarily distorted the surrounding reality.
Gaius didn't notice that as he cleaved an Ork with his Chainsword, the splashing green blood briefly formed a constantly rotating, bird-beak-like symbol in the air before splattering to the ground with a wet thud.
The surface of Haros IV had been transformed into a boiling inferno. Green waves seemed endless, continuously surging from the horizon, which was stained a murky yellow by spore clouds. Their roars, "WAAAGH!!!", were no longer mere battle cries, but had coalesced into an almost tangible physical force, twisting the air, shaking the ground, and even interfering with Power Armor sensors, causing readings on screens to occasionally jump with meaningless garble.
The landing zone where Squad Seven was located was a relatively high, shattered plaza, likely once an outpost of the Planetary Defense Forces, now only ruins and burning vehicle wreckage remained. They had established a temporary defensive line around the core of three destroyed Leman Russ tank wrecks. The roar of Bolters was incessant, and hot shell casings rained down on the scorched ground, clinking crisply before being trampled into the dirt by the heavy footsteps of more Orks.
"Left! Those Boyz are charging again!" Dorian's shout cut through the roar of Bolters and the Orks' shrieks. His Heavy Bolter, like a reaper's loom, wove a storm of metal that tore apart a squad of Ork Boyz attempting to outflank them, along with their crude cover. Green flesh and metal fragments splattered everywhere.
Gaius fired precise bursts, each Bolter round accurately embedding itself in an Ork's hideous head or exposed power core. Nanomechanical enhancements had elevated his ballistic calculations and muscular micro-control to new heights, requiring almost no deliberate aiming, relying instead on an almost instinctive rhythm of slaughter. An Ork Shoota Boy howled as he leaped from behind cover, his creaking custom big shoota barely raised before Gaius' Bolter round pierced its crude energy cell, the resulting small explosion blasting the greenskin and several nearby Gretchin into the air.
"Don't conserve ammo! Keep firing! Don't let them get close!" Sergeant Talos' voice was as cold as ice. Each charged shot from his Plasma Gun turned a large target (whether an Ork Warboss or a modified vehicle) into a smoking wreck amidst a dazzling blue glow. He was like the cornerstone of the defensive line, stabilizing the rhythm of the entire squad.
Elisa Cole, meanwhile, was like an efficient battlefield information node. Her sensors struggled under the intense interference of the Ork WAAAGH! field, but she could still warn of the most threatening attack directions several seconds in advance. "Attention! Front right, Ork Trukk! Carrying explosives! Prioritize clearance!"
Gaius immediately swung his weapon, his Meltagun briefly charging. A searing beam of light cut across the noisy battlefield, precisely hitting the driver's cab of the heavily armored, frantically charging Trukk. The high temperature instantly melted through the armor, igniting the unstable explosives piled inside the vehicle.
Boom!!!
A massive fireball erupted, its shockwave knocking dozens of Orks to the ground around it, and shattered metal parts scattered like deadly shrapnel.
However, the Ork assault showed no signs of weakening. They seemed to be driven even more insane by the sight of this destruction, with more greenskins charging over the burning wreckage. Their crude weapons, Dakka-guns, Rokkits, and even just sticks with explosives strapped to them, continuously poured out firepower. A stray Rokkit slammed into the squad's front cover, its exploding fragments clanging against the Power Armor.
"This isn't working! There are too many of them!" shouted a warrior covering the flank, his shoulder pauldron cracked by a solid slug.
"Hold the line! The fleet is clearing orbit, reinforcements will land soon!" Talos responded, but his gaze swept over the almost endless green tide, his expression deepening with gravity.
Just then, an even heavier, louder WAAAGH!!! sound came from behind the Ork horde. The ground began to vibrate rhythmically, as if some colossal entity was approaching.
"Morkanaut! It's a Morkanaut!" a sharp-eyed warrior warned, his voice carrying a rare hint of terror.
Through the swirling smoke, a massive figure gradually became clear. It was a terrifying construct made of countless scraps of metal, armor plates, thick bolts, and savage energy cores, vaguely resembling a gigantic Ork, but more twisted and asymmetrical. One of its arms was a massive rotating drill, the other a heavy iron fist covered in spikes. Its chest exposed a roaring engine, spewing black smoke and sparks. Its height was enough to look down on the Leman Russ tank wrecks, and each step left deep imprints in the ground.
"By the Emperor..." Dorian muttered, "This thing's got some kick!"
The Morkanaut let out a deafening roar, its sound wave even temporarily overpowering the din of the battlefield. It raised its drill arm, pointing it towards Squad Seven's position, and the drill began to spin wildly, emitting a piercing shriek.
"Disperse!" Talos commanded sharply.
Everyone instantly dove to the sides!
Boom!!!
The huge drill easily tore through the tank wreck they had just been using for cover like a hot knife through butter, churning it into a pile of flying scrap metal! Rubble and metal fragments scattered like cannon fire!
"Take it down! Concentrate fire!" Talos steadied himself while firing his Plasma Gun at the colossal creature's leg joint. The blue plasma melted some of the armor, but the damage seemed negligible compared to its massive size.
Dorian's Heavy Bolter raked across the Morkanaut's torso, sparking a series of flashes, but struggling to penetrate the ridiculously thick armor.
Elisa tried to locate weaknesses in its energy core or control compartment, but the construct's structure was too chaotic and primitive for her sensors to provide effective guidance in a short time.
The Morkanaut rotated its head, which was fashioned from a dilapidated vehicle cockpit, its red-glowing eyes locking onto Talos, the biggest threat. Its huge iron fist came crashing down with an earth-shattering force!
Talos rapidly retreated. The iron fist slammed into the ground, causing an earthquake-like tremor, and splashing mud and debris pelted the surroundings like a barrage.
"Its joints! Aim for all moving joints!" Gaius roared. His Primarch memories and nanomechanical enhanced analysis were running at high speed, trying to find some pattern in this barbaric construct. He raised his Meltagun, charged it again, and this time aimed at the back of the knee of the Morkanaut's supporting leg, where there were usually more hydraulic pipes and relatively weaker connecting structures.
The searing beam shot out again, hitting its target precisely!
Hiss, !
High-pressure hydraulic fluid and coolant sprayed out like blood, instantly igniting from the high temperature, turning into a ball of flame engulfing the knee! The Morkanaut let out an angry rather than painful roar because it likely felt no pain at all. That leg suddenly buckled, its massive body stumbled, and the descending iron fist consequently veered off, striking a deep crater beside Talos.
"Effective! Continue attacking the joints!" Talos seized the opportunity, firing his Plasma Gun repeatedly at the same spot.
The other squad members also concentrated their fire on the joints of the other leg and arm. Bolter rounds, plasma, and even missiles from warriors in the squad equipped with missile launchers continuously bombarded the colossal creature.
The Morkanaut became even more enraged. It swung its drill and iron fist, wildly destroying everything around it. Several Orks who were too slow to dodge were even trampled into pulp by it. Its chest engine roared as if overheating, spewing thicker black smoke, attempting to sweep away these annoying "little bugs" with its massive weapons.
The battle entered its most dangerous phase. Squad members had to dodge the steel behemoth's frantic attacks while precisely striking its weak points, all while dealing with the endless stream of ordinary Orks surging around them.
Gaius wove through the hail of gunfire and the giant shadow. The Meltagun needed time to charge, so he mostly used his Bolter and Chainsword. With a dangerous roll, he dodged a sweeping drill, the wind pressure from which almost made him lose his footing. He then raised his Bolter, firing continuous bursts at the knee joint that had just been seared by the Meltagun, expanding the damage.
"Catonia! Draw its attention!" Talos shouted.
"Gladly! Big guy! Look over here!" Dorian yelled, simultaneously sweeping his Heavy Bolter wildly at the Morkanaut's head. Although unable to cause substantial damage, he successfully enraged the unintelligent construct.
The Morkanaut indeed turned towards Dorian, its huge iron fist raising.
Now!
Gaius and Talos seized this opportunity almost simultaneously! Gaius' Meltagun was recharged, and Talos' Plasma Gun was charged to its critical point!
Two destructive beams shot out at the same time! Gaius' target was the knee joint of the other leg, while Talos aimed at the shoulder joint of the arm that the Morkanaut was swinging its iron fist with!
Boom! Sizzle!
The huge knee exploded and broke under the high temperature, while the shoulder joint was also melted by the plasma! The Morkanaut lost its balance, letting out an unwilling roar. Its massive body tilted like a mountain, finally crashing to the ground with a deafening roar and a violent tremor, crushing a large number of Orks beneath it. Its broken arm slammed to the ground, still twitching unwillingly.
"Finish it!" Talos ordered.
The squad's remaining firepower immediately poured onto the fallen giant, focusing on its head and exposed engine parts. Finally, amidst a series of explosions, this Ork war behemoth completely ceased activity, becoming a pile of burning, smoking scrap metal.
"Phew... Finally..." Dorian gasped, the barrel of his Heavy Bolter smoking from overheating.
However, before they could catch their breath, Elisa's warning sounded again: "Detecting larger-scale Ork energy signatures! From the eastern canyon direction! Big ones! Many of them!"
On the eastern horizon, dust clouds rolled, and even larger, more bizarre silhouettes could be vaguely seen in the haze, accompanied by even louder WAAAGH!!! sounds and the roar of heavy engines.
Everyone's hearts sank. One Morkanaut had already pushed them to their limits, and now more?
Just then, new engine roars echoed from the sky! It wasn't the crude aircraft of the Orks, but the familiar and pleasant roar of Imperial Thunderhawk Gunships!
Several Thunderhawks broke through the spore clouds, their autocannons spraying a hail of bullets, clearing the hordes of Orks below, then precisely landed in the open areas around Squad Seven. The hatches opened, and more blue-armored figures poured out, reinforcements from the Ultramarines! Among them were even three Dreadnoughts, their heavy footsteps making the ground tremble again, and the heavy weapons on their arms emitted reassuring charging sounds.
"Squad Seven! Report status!" the commander of the reinforcements, a veteran Sergeant from the First Company, asked through the comms channel.
"Primary threats temporarily cleared! But a larger-scale Ork force has appeared to the east, suspected to have more heavy units!" Talos quickly reported.
"Received! You have fought bravely for a long time, retreat and regroup immediately! We will take over the defense line! For Macragge!"
"For Macragge!"
The Dreadnoughts advanced with determined strides, meeting the new green tide. Their heavy weapons roared deafeningly, instantly engulfing the Ork vanguard in a sea of fire.
Squad Seven finally got a moment to breathe. They covered each other as they retreated to a temporarily established resupply point. Their armor was covered in bullet marks and green bloodstains, their power weapons were overheated and needed cooling, and their Bolter ammunition was running low.
Behind the relatively safe temporary position, Tech-Priests and medical officers immediately stepped forward for emergency maintenance and wound treatment.
Gaius sat against a broken wall, dismounting his meltagun for cooling and maintenance. He felt the subtle fatigue from the nanomachines in his left half, and the constant warmth of his amulet. The fierce battle with the Morkanaut earlier, and the previous encounter with the Tzeentch illusion, had left his mind extremely exhausted.
Dorian plopped down beside him, took off his helmet, and vigorously wiped the sweat and grime from his face. "Awesome! Fucking awesome! But these green bastards, no matter how many you kill, they just keep coming!" He grinned, seemingly completely immersed in the frenzy of battle.
Elisa, meanwhile, quickly checked Gaius' armor for damage and the nanomachines' readings: "Joint mobility reduced by five percent, nano-cluster activity reduced, in a state of fatigue. Requires at least an hour of rest to restore optimal performance."
Talos walked over, his faceplate removed, revealing a resolute yet tired expression. He first nodded to Gaius: "Well done, Gaius. Your judgment was crucial." Then his gaze became serious, "Now, report on what happened in the meditation chamber earlier. In detail."
Gaius took a deep breath, collected his thoughts, and recounted his encounter with the "Tzeentch" illusion, the seductive whispers, and how it was finally interrupted by the alert and his own counterattack, as clearly and calmly as possible, omitting some details that were too emotionally impactful.
Dorian listened, wide-eyed, even forgetting to swear. Elisa's brows were tightly furrowed, and the records on her data-slate scrolled rapidly.
Talos listened in silence, his expression growing more solemn. Only when Gaius finished did he speak slowly, his voice low: "The Lord of Change... He has set His gaze upon you. This is worse than the worst possible scenario." He glanced at the still-fierce battlefield in the distance, "This means you face not only the threat of internal traitors and a genecurse, but also the malicious covetousness from the deepest reaches of the Warp. His schemes are interconnected; your previous experiences were probably just a prelude."
He heavily clapped Gaius' shoulder guard: "Stay vigilant, brother. Remember firmly your final choice in the illusion, to fight for the Emperor. That is your cornerstone against all temptations. Whatever He promises, whatever He reveals, do not waver. Your will is a more important fortress than any weapon."
Gaius nodded heavily, engraving the Sergeant's words into his heart.
Resupply and rest time were short and precious. The battle ahead was still fierce; the main Ork force seemed to have just entered the fray.
Soon, new orders came: "Squad Seven, regrouped! Proceed to the eastern canyon exit, cooperate with the Dreadnoughts and other squads to intercept the advance of Ork heavy units!"
Talos put on his helmet: "Hear that? Break's over. Let's go give those big green bastards a taste of their own medicine."
Gaius stood up, reloading his cooled meltagun. The fatigue in his body remained, but his will, tempered by experience, was even stronger. He looked towards the canyon, red with war and assaulted by the green tide, his gaze sharp.
Whatever Tzeentch's schemes, whatever blood flowed within him, at this moment, he was an Ultramarine, and his duty was to fight and destroy.
"For the Emperor!" he roared, rushing back into the battle.
The eastern canyon exit, with its relatively narrow terrain, became a natural bottleneck to block the Ork heavy units. But precisely because of this, when the green tide, like a flood of steel, tried to pass through, the battle instantly entered its most brutal and suffocating phase.
The first to arrive and establish a steel defense line were three ancient Dreadnoughts belonging to the Ultramarines' First Company. They were like mobile fortresses, their massive bodies themselves an insurmountable wall. On the far left was "Fist of Macragge," an ancient war machine equipped with twin-linked assault cannons and a heavy flamer, its armor plates etched with a thousand years of battle scars and honors. In the middle was "Shield of the Emperor," a rare Ironclad Dreadnought, its thick frontal armor almost impervious to Ork heavy fire, its signature weapon, twin-linked lascannons, calmly charging, emitting a heart-stopping hum. On the right was "Wrath of Corax," a close-combat meat grinder wielding a massive power fist and an integrated storm Bolter, its mechanical limbs thundering with hydraulic power with every movement.
"For the Emperor! Purge the Xenos!" The Dreadnoughts' internal loudspeakers bellowed a deep, metallic battle cry, amplified through their vox-casters, the soul-voice of heroes of old, long integrated with their machines.
The Ork heavy units also bared their fangs. Several "Killa Kans" that looked like they were cobbled together from scrap tanks and cranes rumbled forward, their crude cannons spitting scorching solid shells. There were also more, slightly smaller but more agile "Deff Dreads," brandishing drills, giant claws, and circular saws, rushing forward with ear-splitting noise. There were even a few gigantic Squiggoths, brutally modified by Ork technology, clad in thick steel plates like war mammoths, carrying noisy Grot shooters and rocket launcher nests on their backs.
"Fist of Macragge" opened fire first! The twin-linked assault cannons unleashed a destructive storm of metal at a rate of thousands of rounds per minute, instantly engulfing the foremost Deff Dreads and a large number of Ork infantry! Armor was torn, limbs were ripped apart, and green blood and oil splattered like a downpour! Closely following, the heavy flamer spewed a viscous flame tens of meters long, turning the entire canyon entrance into a fiery inferno, devouring those enemies who had miraculously dodged the storm of metal. The piercing screams even temporarily drowned out the din of the battlefield!
"Shield of the Emperor" acted like a calm sniper. Each precise shot from its twin-linked lascannons was accompanied by a blinding blue-white light and a deafening explosion, and the turret of a Killa Kan in the distance would explode in response, turning into a burning wreck! Its firepower was not dense, but every shot inevitably destroyed a high-value target, effectively curbing the Ork heavy firepower's long-range suppression.
However, the sheer number and brute force of the greenskins were not to be underestimated! A Killa Kan charged forward, shrugging off the assault cannon's barrage, its main cannon roaring as a massive shell slammed into "Shield of the Emperor's" frontal armor!
Boom!!!
The deafening roar made the earth tremble! A deep dent was smashed into the thick armor plate, and cracks spread, but it was not penetrated! "Shield of the Emperor" merely swayed slightly, its lascannon's charging not even interrupted. The next second, a vengeful laser beam precisely melted through the Killa Kan's cockpit!
More Deff Dreads and enraged Squiggoths broke through the fire, howling as they lunged at the defense line! Just then, "Wrath of Corax" moved! Its massive body exploded with a speed that belied its size, and its power fist swung out with crushing force!
Bang!!!
A Deff Dread was hit as if by a battering ram, its entire upper body instantly shattered into pieces, with parts and green Ork remains flying everywhere! Its integrated storm Bolter fired simultaneously, mowing down swathes of approaching Ork infantry! Another Deff Dread swung its giant drill at it, but was caught by the power fist's backhand, the drill and arm twisted into a mangled mess, then slammed into the ground and crushed to splinters!
The Dreadnoughts stood like unshakeable reefs, firmly anchored at the canyon exit, using thunderous firepower and an iron will to repeatedly shatter the Ork heavy assault. Behind them, Squad Seven and other infantry units were responsible for clearing stragglers and small groups of enemies attempting to flank, and providing fire support for the Dreadnoughts with their own firepower.
The rhythm of the battle was furious and intense, every second filled with deafening explosions, tearing metal, and the dying howls of Orks. New scars constantly appeared on the ancient hulls of the Dreadnoughts, but they still stood unyielding, like embodiments of the Emperor's faith, carrying out the sacred mission of destroying xenos in the purest, most brutal way. The canyon entrance had become a grinding mill of steel and flesh, and the green tide, confronted by this absolute iron will, was smashed to pieces.