Chapter 10 - Prisoner

Inside the officers' lounge on the Macragge's Honour, the atmosphere, unlike its usual solemnity, was imbued with the lingering aftermath of survival and an unyielding sorrow.

The members of Second Squad were gathered, not for a mission briefing, but more for a silent, mutual support.

Sergeant Golden meticulously wiped down his grenade launcher, as if pouring all his emotions into the mechanical maintenance.

Lex sat with his two bionic arms crossed over his chest, eyes closed in contemplation, but the slight tremor in his fingertips betrayed his inner turmoil.

Medic Thor was carefully inspecting some precision medical instruments, his brow furrowed.

Cliff sat in a corner, his lost arm replaced with a functional bionic prosthesis, which, though far less powerful than Lex's, could at least perform basic operations.

His face remained pale, but his eyes were unusually resolute.

Dorian, who had only recently rejoined the squad, seemed restless and agitated.

His massive frame sank into a seat that was even slightly too large for an Astartes, his fingers unconsciously tapping the table, producing dull thuds.

His gaze occasionally swept over the squad members, finally settling on the silent Calgar and Gorden.

"Hey," Dorian suddenly broke the silence, his voice much deeper than usual, "I still can't quite... believe it.

That girl, Elisa... is she really..."

His words made everyone's movements pause.

A silent sorrow permeated the air.

Dorian didn't seem to expect an answer, but rather continued to speak to himself, as if trying to confirm something through memory, or to convince himself to accept reality: "...Remember when we were in basic training?

She was as thin as a bean sprout, completely out of place among a bunch of rough men.

I even wondered at the time if command had made a mistake.

Could this little girl really wear this blue can?

She'd probably fall apart on the first day of training."

He forced a smile, uglier than a cry, and shook his head: "But guess what?

She actually made it!

Not only did her academic scores leave us far behind, but even during the most grueling neural interface and Black Carapace adaptation, she didn't utter a single sound!

Back then, Sergeant Talos... oh, now he's Captain Talos... even praised her privately, saying that her ruthlessness, hidden beneath her calm demeanor, was stronger than many men."

Gorden slowly put down his tools and nodded, his voice low: "Yes.

She never complained, always proving herself with results.

Her shooting scores were consistently among the best in the company, and her tactical analysis was unmatched.

Many times, it was her early warnings and data analysis that allowed us to survive."

Calgar remained silent, his mind replaying Elisa's focused and calm profile as she operated the data-slate, and that final moment... her powerless hand trying to point at the control panel.

"She told me..." Dorian's voice grew even deeper, even carrying a rare softness, "She said she knew that only men could become Astartes before because the Primarchs were all men, and the gene-seed was designed for men.

But... after the Great Heresy, the Imperium suffered too greatly, especially us Ultramarines, on Calth... so many brothers were lost.

The Imperium needed every fighting force it could get.

So... it seems like command quietly loosened the rules a bit?

Or found some new technology?

Anyway, she and her small group were very fortunate to be chosen."

He looked up, his gaze somewhat lost as he stared at the bulkhead, as if he could pierce through the steel and see the endless star sea: "She said she didn't care what others thought, she just wanted to prove that the Emperor's Angels could also have female figures.

She fought not to prove that women were stronger than men, but simply to tell everyone that for the Emperor and the Primarch, women could also give everything, and could also... be just as good."

A profound silence fell over the lounge, broken only by the faint hum of the engine.

Dorian's words revealed a hidden corner of the Imperium and articulated Elisa's deeply held belief.

"Her..." Dorian paused, took a deep breath, and continued, his voice carrying a subtle catch, "Her biggest wish was actually quite foolish... She said that in her life, if she could just see Primarch Roboute Guilliman with her own eyes, even if it was just a glimpse from afar, she would be content.

She also wanted... if she had the chance, to personally say 'thank you' to the Primarch.

"Thank him... for giving her a chance, for allowing her to wear this armor, to fight for Macragge, to become a... true Ultramarine."

After speaking, Dorian leaned heavily back into his chair, as if all his strength had been spent.

On his rugged face, a deep sadness, utterly incongruous with his appearance, was etched.

"She said... 'Although I know it's impossible.

The Primarch is so busy, how could he possibly notice an insignificant little soldier like me...'".

This last sentence struck everyone's heart like the heaviest hammer.

Indeed, to the Primarch, who sat on Holy Terra, wielded the Imperium's power, and was constantly occupied with countless duties, what was the humble yet fervent dream of an ordinary female Astartes warrior from a distant sector?

He might never know that such a loyal female Astartes, filled with such pure reverence and gratitude, had shed her last drop of blood for him.

Elisa Cole's unfulfilled dream, like a tiny but resilient seed, was quietly buried in the hearts of every survivor present.

It carried regret, sorrow, and even more, an infinite loyalty to the Imperium and the Primarch that transcended gender.

This seed would surely take root in the future fires of war, blossoming into a light that, though perhaps unknown, would shine even brighter.

Just as this heavy silence spread, the lounge door slid open.

A figure stood at the doorway, clad in a deep blue Captain's uniform, his right arm below the shoulder replaced by an exquisitely crafted silver bionic prosthesis, with subtle energy streams flickering at the interface.

His face still bore a slight pallor from healing, but his eyes were deeper, steadier, and filled with the authority of one who had endured great hardship.

It was Talos!

Once Sergeant of the Squad Seven, now Captain of the Ninth Company!

"Captain Talos!" Gorden immediately stood at attention and saluted, and the others also rose.

Talos nodded, his gaze sweeping over the squad members, lingering a moment longer on Dorian and Calgar, and finally resting on the empty seat that had belonged to Elisa.

His eyes dimmed slightly.

"No need for formalities," His voice was still calm, but now carried the gravitas of a Captain, "I've just finished my report to the Chapter Master.

Tomorrow morning, I will lead the Ninth Company to the Callas Sector on the Ultramar border for a long-term extermination mission, estimated to last six months."

He walked into the lounge, his gaze passing over each of his old subordinates: "I came to see you before I leave.

It seems Second Squad has risen again."

His gaze lingered on Dorian and Cliff, with approval.

"Captain, your injuries..." Gorden asked with concern.

"It's fine.

The bionic arm still needs some getting used to, but it doesn't affect command or combat."

Talos flexed his new silver bionic hand, his gaze once again falling on the empty seat, and his voice lowered, "Sergeant Golden has already reported to me the detailed situation on Seram IV... including... the sacrifice of Tech-Sergeant Elisa Cole."

The atmosphere in the lounge became solemn once more.

Talos was silent for a moment before slowly saying: "She was an exceptionally excellent and incredibly loyal warrior.

Her loss is a loss to the entire Chapter.

I still remember her composure and wisdom as a recruit, far beyond the norm.

She proved... her worth."

In his words, he avoided gender, emphasizing only her essence as a warrior, which was his greatest respect and affirmation for her.

"We will avenge her death," Talos' gaze sharpened, sweeping over everyone, "But not by being blinded by hatred.

We must, like her, complete every mission calmly, efficiently, and precisely, thoroughly purifying the Imperium's enemies.

This is the best solace for the fallen."

"Yes, Captain!" Everyone responded in unison, their voices filled with determination.

Talos nodded, as if he wanted to say more, about future missions, about the Ninth Company's plans, but in the end, he just looked at the empty seat once more, then turned his resolute gaze to everyone.

"Stay vigilant, brothers.

The future of the Imperium and Ultramar rests on the shoulders of every warrior.

Regardless of gender, regardless of origin, loyalty and courage are our only principles."

"May the Emperor guide you."

With that, he solemnly performed an Aquila salute to every member of the former Squad Seven, now Second Squad, then turned and strode out of the lounge.

His silver bionic arm gleamed with a cold, hard light under the illumination, his steps firm and steady, as he shouldered greater responsibilities and embarked on a new journey.

The lounge door closed again.

Dorian slammed his fist on the table, making a loud noise, but this time he didn't roar, just stared at the tabletop with red eyes.

Calgar silently clenched his fist, and the dormant nanomachines in his left arm seemed to sense his surging emotions, emitting a faint thrum.

Gorden took a deep breath, his gaze sweeping over his team members: "Did you all hear that?

The Captain's words are also what Elisa would have wanted us to do."

"Gather yourselves, check your gear."

"Second Squad, ready for deployment at any moment."

Mourning was hidden in their hearts, hatred transformed into motivation.

The wishes of the fallen would be surpassed by the living; the unfinished path would be continued by them.

Far across the endless star sea, in the Throne Room of Holy Terra, Regent Roboute Guilliman was buried in a mountain of administrative data-slates, his brow furrowed, making decisions that concerned the fate of the entire Imperium.

He might never know what humble yet fervent dream a daughter named Elisa Cole, in the distant Tarasha Sector, held as she fought and died for him.

The wheel of the Imperium rolled onward, crushing the sacrifices and dreams of countless individuals, cold and immense.

But the sparks remembered in the hearts of their comrades would ultimately illuminate the darkness, guiding the living to continue the eternal battle.

After Captain Talos left, the atmosphere in the Second Squad's lounge remained heavy and solemn. Dorian's fists were still tightly clenched, his gaze seemingly burning two holes into the metal tabletop. Though Gorden's words ignited their fighting spirit, the pain of losing a comrade was not so easily dispelled.

Just then, the lounge door was knocked upon again. This time, the figure standing outside the door sent a chill down everyone's spine.

Deep blue, ornate armor, a majestic and imposing demeanor, and an authority recognizable without any insignia—it was Chapter Master Calgar. He was not alone; Captain Talos respectfully followed half a step behind him.

"Chapter Master!" The squad members immediately stood up, straightened their backs, and performed the Aquila salute.

Calgar's gaze, like a tangible force, swept over everyone, finally resting on Sergeant Golden: "Sergeant Golden, Captain Talos has just reported to me your squad's heroic performance on Seram IV, as well as...the loss of squad members." His voice was steady, carrying a soothing power, "You completed a nearly impossible mission, destroying an important Word Bearers stronghold and preventing a disaster that could have affected several star systems. The Ultramarines are proud of you."

"It was our duty, Chapter Master," Gorden responded in a deep voice.

Calgar nodded slightly, his gaze seemingly inadvertently sweeping over the empty seat again. After a moment of silence, he suddenly spoke: "Captain Talos also mentioned...something about Tech-Sergeant Elisa Cole. She...seems to hold a deep reverence for the Primarch?"

Everyone was startled, not expecting the Chapter Master to ask about this so suddenly. Dorian abruptly looked up, his lips moving.

Gorden glanced at Dorian, then answered for him: "Yes, Chapter Master. Brother Elisa...her lifelong wish was to meet Primarch Guilliman in person and express her gratitude. Gratitude...gratitude to the Primarch and the Imperium for giving people like her the opportunity to serve the Emperor."

Calgar listened quietly, and on his resolute face, weathered by time and accustomed to life and death, a fleeting, almost imperceptible ripple seemed to pass. He was silent for a few seconds, then slowly said: "It is regrettable that I did not have the opportunity to personally know this loyal warrior. Her sacrifice is a loss to the Imperium."

He paused, his gaze seemingly cast towards the distant void, his voice low and solemn: "Her wish...I have noted it. If there is an opportunity to meet the Primarch in the future, I will try...to mention this pure sentiment from a loyal warrior in a distant sector."

The Chapter Master's words were calm, without any guarantees, and even carried a hint of uncertainty. Yet, this simple promise brought an indescribable warmth and excitement to the hearts of the Second Squad members. Elisa's seemingly insignificant, even "foolish" wish, had actually received such importance and response from the Chapter Master!

This meant that her loyalty and sacrifice were not unknown; at least, the Chapter Master remembered her name and her wish.

"Thank you, Chapter Master!" Gorden's voice held a barely perceptible tremor. Dorian also bowed his head heavily, his clenched fists loosening slightly.

Calgar nodded, saying nothing more. He again surveyed the squad members, his gaze briefly lingering on Gaius' still somewhat weak left arm, but he did not ask further.

"Rest well, Second Squad. Ultramar still needs your swords and shields." With that, he turned and left with Talos.

After the Chapter Master departed, silence lingered in the lounge for a long time. A complex mix of sorrow, glory, and a faint hope permeated the air.

A few days later, the warship held a brief farewell ceremony for the departing Ninth Company. The newly reorganized Ninth Company warriors stood in neat formations; though most were new recruits, their eyes shone with a desire to prove themselves.

And when the members of the Second Squad saw the Ninth Company's ranks, they couldn't help but be stunned.

Among those tall figures in blue power armor, they saw several relatively slender, yet equally upright and resilient figures. Their armor style was no different from the other warriors, but the contours beneath their faceplates and a subtle difference revealed in occasional movements indicated their identity—female Astartes.

Their numbers were not large, scattered throughout the company, but their very existence was a silent declaration. Like their male comrades around them, they stood tall, eyes firm, ready to go to war for the Imperium and the Primarch.

Just like...Elisa once was.

Dorian stared intently at those figures, as if trying to find some familiar shadow in them. He opened his mouth, but in the end, said nothing, only silently saluting.

Gorden patted his shoulder: "They are walking the path Elisa forged."

Gaius' heart was also in turmoil. Elisa's sacrifice was not meaningless; her existence, the path she proved, was now being followed by more newcomers. This was perhaps the best memorial to her.

After seeing off the Ninth Company, the Second Squad also welcomed new members to fill the Tech-Sergeant vacancy left by Elisa.

When the new Tech-Sergeant reported to the lounge, everyone was a little surprised.

She wore a fitted power armor, carrying a multi-purpose tech-box that looked heavier than she was. When she removed her helmet, she revealed a young face, with a few freckles, but exceptionally calm and focused eyes. She didn't look particularly strong, even a bit bookish, but her straight back and steady demeanor commanded respect.

"7th Company, 2nd Squad Tech-Sergeant, Luna Aisa, reporting for duty!" Her voice was clear and calm, with the precision characteristic of a Tech-Sergeant.

Gorden welcomed her to the squad on behalf of the others. After a brief introduction and handover, Luna immediately immersed herself in work, familiarizing herself with the squad's equipment data and previous mission records, with a focused expression and efficient movements...

Dorian watched from the side, his eyes somewhat dazed. In a trance, he seemed to see again the figure who always buried herself in a data-slate, calmly reporting enemy coordinates and weaknesses. Although their appearance and temperament were completely different, the Tech-Sergeant's dedication and professionalism were strikingly similar.

He shook his head, dispelling that unrealistic association. Elisa was unique; no one could replace her. But the Luna Aisa before him was clearly a qualified and excellent successor.

Just as the squad began to integrate with its new member and gradually regain its combat effectiveness, new mission orders arrived.

The 7th Company Captain personally conducted the mission briefing, and the holographic star chart displayed a harsh mining world on the edge of Ultramar—Braca VII.

"Braca VII has issued a highest-level distress signal," the Captain said with a grim expression. "A massive Tyranid spore fleet has breached the outer defenses and is descending upon the planet! The Imperial Guard and a small remnant of Cadian regiments on the planet are fighting valiantly, but the situation is critical!"

"Tyranids?!" Everyone's hearts sank. This terrifying scourge from beyond the galaxy, existing purely to devour everything, posed a threat even greater than Chaos traitors. Wherever they went, there was only utter destruction and death.

"7th Company's Second, Sixth, and Squad Sevens will serve as the advance assault team and immediately proceed to Braca VII!" the Captain ordered. "Your mission is to coordinate with local Cadian forces, establish a temporary defensive line, delay the swarm's advance as much as possible, and guide subsequent main forces for orbital bombardment and purification operations!"

"This is a completely different kind of war, brothers," the Captain's gaze swept over each person. "Forget the grievances and hatred with the traitors. You are facing hunger itself, absolute ruthlessness, and overwhelming numerical superiority. Survival and mission completion are the only goals."

"For the Emperor, for Ultramar, we must not let the swarm devour this world!"

"Understood!" The Sergeants of the three squads responded in unison.

The briefing ended, alarms sounded, and the warship entered combat readiness.

The members of the Second Squad quickly checked their equipment and headed to the hangar.

Dorian hoisted his signature heavy weapon, his eyes burning with battle-lust, as if to temporarily unleash his hatred for the Night Lords upon the xenos.

Gorden checked his grenade launcher and plasma pistol, his expression steady.

Lex flexed his bionic arms, making a soft hydraulic hiss.

Saul inventoried the medical kits, his expression serious.

Cliff held his Bolter steadily with his bionic prosthetic arm.

The new Tech-Sergeant, Luna Aisa, quickly connected her data-slate to the warship's system, downloading information about Braca VII's terrain, Tyranid unit classifications, and Cadian regiment frequencies, her movements swift and precise.

Gaius performed a final check of his "Hawkeye" rifle and remaining micro-missiles, gently stroking the cold rifle body. His left arm still throbbed with a dull ache and weakness, the Grey Knights' mark as cold as ever.

He looked at his new teammates, then at the increasingly large, ominously grey-green planet outside the viewport.

This time, their enemies were no longer hateful traitors, but a cold, hungry swarm.

But no matter who the opponent was, the Ultramarines' duty never changed.

The Thunderhawk Gunship's engines began to roar.

-------

The surface of Brakka VII was the embodiment of hell. The sky was stained a sickening yellow-green by the shadows of the Tyranid spore fleets and the lingering toxic clouds. The air was thick and scorching, filled with the pungent smell of bio-acid and the hair-raising scuttling and screeching of countless Tyranid units.

The 7th Company, 2nd Squad, along with two other squads and the surviving Cadian soldiers, held a relatively elevated ruin of a mining facility. Below them, the Tyranid swarm surged like a tide!

This was no longer a battle against an enemy with emotions and tactics, but against a biological catastrophe driven purely by hunger and the instinct for destruction.

Rippers, like an overwhelming plague of locusts, were infinite in number, screaming as they sprayed corrosive living ammunition from their tiny bone claws and bio-weapons, fearlessly charging the defensive line, piling up their corpses to form terrifying ramps.

Raveners were even more agile and terrifying; they moved like giant fleas, leaping and weaving with astonishing speed and erratic trajectories. Their massive scythe-like forelimbs could easily tear through Cadian soldiers' armor and even pose a threat to Power Armor.

Even more terrifying were the larger bio-constructs: Tyranid Warriors were like mobile fortresses, their thick carapaces capable of shrugging off direct Bolter fire. They wielded massive bone swords and scythe claws, each swing capable of tearing soldiers and their cover to shreds. Hive Tyrant Guard hid behind the swarm, firing powerful acid spores and shockwaves from their twisted bio-cannons, capable of destroying light vehicles.

The battle devolved into a brutal war of attrition from the very beginning. The roar of Bolters never ceased, and searing beams and explosions constantly cleared areas within the swarm, only for them to be instantly refilled by more Tyranids. The ground was already covered in viscous green blood and shattered carapaces, and every minute, Cadian soldiers were dragged into the tide, their brief screams quickly swallowed by the chaos.

"For the Emperor! For Cadia! For Ultramar!" a Cadian officer shrieked, but his voice was quickly drowned out by the roar of the swarm.

Second Squad held a critical point on the defensive line.

Dorian's twin meltagun became a divine weapon against large units; each searing beam vaporized a Tyranid Warrior or a cluster of Raveners, but the cooldown time often left him in danger.

Gorden's grenade launcher and plasma gun continuously picked off key points in the charging swarm formations and ranged units.

Lex, with a Power Axe in each of his bionic arms, guarded the flank like a meat grinder, hacking any Ripper or Ravener that dared to approach into pieces, green ichor staining him a terrifying sight.

Medic Sore moved through the positions, desperately trying to save the wounded who still had hope, but his medical kit was rapidly depleting.

Cliff steadily fired with his bionic arm, filling gaps in the firepower.

The new Tech-Sergeant, Luna Aisa, demonstrated astonishing value. She quickly analyzed the swarm's attack patterns, the weaknesses of different Tyranid units, and shared this information in real-time via data-link to all squad members and Cadian forces.

"Attention! Three o'clock direction, Tyranid Warrior cluster! Prioritize attacking joints!" "Hive Tyrant Guard hidden behind that broken Thunderhawk wreckage to the northwest! Need precise fire to clear it!" "There are neural node organisms behind the Ripper swarm! Taking them out will cause confusion!"

Her calm and precision greatly improved the efficiency of the defensive line, as if some spirit of Elisa was continuing in this inferno.

Gaius held "Hawkeye," his breathing steady. Each single shot inevitably burst the head of a leaping Ravener or shattered the compound eye of a Tyranid Warrior. He deliberately avoided using the strength of his left arm, relying entirely on training and weapon performance. The Grey Knights' mark remained cold, and the nanomachines were silent.

However, the sheer numbers of the Tyranid tide were overwhelming. The defensive line was constantly being compressed, and casualties continued to mount. Reports of heavy losses also came from Sixth Squad and Squad Seven.

Just then, an even sharper shriek rang out! Several unusually large, elite Tyranid Warriors with unique carapace markings broke through the firepower net and charged into Second Squad's position!

A brutal close-quarters battle erupted instantly!

Dorian's meltagun was cooling down; he roared, drawing his combat knife, and grappled with a Tyranid Warrior. Gorden's plasma gun overheated, leaving him to parry with his Power Sword. Lex was attacked by two Tyranid Warriors simultaneously, his twin axes whirling in an impenetrable defense, but he was forced to retreat repeatedly.

One of the elite Tyranid Warriors, moving with uncanny speed, bypassed Lex's defense, its massive bone sword cleaving directly towards Luna Aisa, who was operating a data-slate!

"Watch out!" Gaius and Sore exclaimed simultaneously!

Luna reacted extremely quickly, trying to dodge sideways and return fire with her Bolter pistol, but the Tyranid Warrior's speed was too great! The bone sword, with a shriek that tore through the air, struck her pauldron with brutal force!

CRACK!

Even the sturdy Power Armor could not fully withstand the charged blow; the pauldron shattered instantly. Luna screamed, knocked to the ground by the immense force, her data-slate flying from her grasp! She struggled to get up, but the Tyranid Warrior had already raised its other massive scythe claw, aiming for her head! Sore tried to rush to her rescue but was held fast by other Tyranids!

Tragedy was about to strike again!

Just at this critical moment—

WHOOSH—!

A very distinct, high-pitched sniper shot, not from any Imperial standard weapon, pierced the battlefield's clamor!

The next second, the elite Tyranid Warrior, which was about to deliver a fatal blow to Luna, suddenly exploded from head to chest without warning! Green blood and carapace fragments splattered like a downpour! The massive headless Tyranid body swayed, then crashed heavily to the ground!

This sudden strike caused the entire chaotic battlefield to pause momentarily!

All the surviving Ultramarines and Cadian soldiers looked in astonishment towards the direction the bullet had come from—a ruined area on a high flank, long since overrun by the swarm!

A dark figure, like a ghost, burst out of the swarm! He moved swiftly and ruthlessly, the barrel of a strangely shaped long-barreled sniper rifle still smoking in his hand. In his other hand, he wielded a… standard Ultramarines Chainsword? He was frantically hacking at the Rippers that swarmed him!

It was that Night Lords Champion!

He was on this planet too! And he seemed to be under attack by the swarm!

He looked even more disheveled and wretched than when they had last seen him. His dark armor was covered in deep claw marks and acid corrosion, and his left leg seemed to be severely injured, as he moved with a noticeable limp. Across his back, he carried two differently shaped sniper rifles, one of which was that sinister sonic weapon. His waist was laden with… standard Cadian soldier ration cans? In one hand, he tightly clutched a large assortment of magazines, clearly from different weapons!

He had killed the Tyranid Warrior and saved Luna, but clearly not out of goodwill. His gaze, if it could still be called a gaze, hidden behind his damaged skull mask, coldly swept over Luna, lying on the ground, and the Bolter pistol that had fallen beside her, as well as Sore's almost full medical kit that lay nearby!

Without any hesitation, he didn't even spare Gaius and the others a glance. Like a charging leopard, despite his limp, he suddenly rushed over! Before anyone could react, he snatched up Luna's Bolter pistol and Sore's medical kit, stuffing them into an empty pouch on his waist without even looking!

Only then, as he drew closer, did he seem to truly notice Gaius and the others. His movements visibly paused, as if he too was extremely surprised to encounter these "old acquaintances" here again. His cold gaze quickly swept over Gaius, Dorian, Gorden, and the others, lingering for a moment especially on Gaius' conspicuous "Hawkeye" rifle and his uselessly hanging left arm.

A very faint, ambiguous scoff or gasp seemed to emanate from beneath the faceplate.

But he had no intention of fighting or communicating! The surrounding swarm surged again! He suddenly turned, his Chainsword roaring as it shredded two pouncing Rippers. His gaze quickly swept over the body of a recently deceased Ultramarine nearby, whose weapon was still intact.

He charged again, expertly yanking the Bolter and several spare magazines from the corpse's hand. Without hesitation, he turned and, dragging his injured leg, rushed with astonishing speed in the opposite direction from the Imperial defensive line, towards the denser areas of the swarm! As he ran, he used the strange sniper rifle to pick off obstacles in front of him, and his figure quickly vanished into the pervasive toxic mist and the surging Tyranid tide, leaving behind only a field of Tyranid corpses and the dumbfounded Ultramarines.

From his appearance, to his shot, to his snatching, to his disappearance, the entire process took only a dozen seconds, too fast for anyone to react.

"...The Emperor above!" Dorian was the first to snap out of it. He cleaved the remaining Tyranid Warrior in front of him with an axe, looking in the direction where the Night Lords had vanished, his face filled with disbelief and extreme confusion. "That bastard... he just... saved Luna? And then stole our stuff and ran?!"

"He seemed... badly injured..." Sore said, panting, looking in the direction of his stolen medical kit, his eyes complex. "He's collecting weapons... and food..."

Sergeant Golden's face was extremely grim. As he replaced the plasma gun's power cell, he said in a deep voice, "He did save Tech-Sergeant Aisa... but his behavior... is more like a beast struggling for survival in desperation... plundering every usable resource."

Lex cursed, "Who the hell cares why! That guy's a lunatic! Stealing my brother's relics! Don't let me run into him again!"

Gaius silently watched the ruins, his heart in turmoil. That Night Lords Champion... his behavior pattern was completely inexplicable by normal logic. He attacked the Word Bearers, he attacked the Ultramarines, and now he was attacking the Tyranids, and he even intervened to save Luna just now, although his motive might have been to seize supplies. He was severely wounded, yet he was still frantically collecting weapons, ammunition, and even food in this Tyranid-occupied territory...

Who exactly was he? A "Blackshield" who had left his legion and was struggling to survive alone in a desperate universe? A traitor who still held some twisted loyalty? Or simply a madman who would stop at nothing to survive?

"Everyone! Focus!" Gorden's roar interrupted their thoughts. A new wave of the swarm's assault was coming. "No matter who he is, we only have one enemy now!"

"Hold these bugs!"

The battle erupted again, even more brutal.

But the phantom-like appearance and disappearance of the Night Lords Champion, and his contradictory yet desperate struggle for survival, were deeply imprinted in the heart of every member of Second Squad.

In the face of this all-consuming Tyranid tide, even former mortal enemies no longer seemed so absolute.

Survival had become the sole imperative, transcending all factions.

The strange interlude with the Night Lords Champion was like a drop of water in a boiling oil pan, briefly attracting attention but unable to change the cruel nature of the battlefield.

The Tyranid offensive showed no signs of weakening; on the contrary, it became even more ferocious with the addition of more large units.

Second Squad had just repelled a Ripper assault and hadn't even had a chance to catch their breath when the ground began to shake even more violently!

A heavy, soul-crushing thudding sound emanated from the depths of the swirling toxic mist, accompanied by a low, guttural roar that made one's heart stop.

"Large biological signature! Extremely high energy readings! It's... it's Executioners! At least two!" Luna Aisa endured the sharp pain in her shoulder, staring at the wildly alarming readings on her data pad, her voice tinged with despair.

Before her words had even faded, the ruins ahead exploded as if detonated by explosives!

A massive, twisted, terrifying behemoth covered in thick chitinous armor smashed through all obstacles and appeared before everyone!

It stood nearly five meters tall, like a fortress of slaughter built from flesh and carapace!

One of its forelimbs had mutated into a gigantic, crushing pincer capable of flattening a Leman Russ tank, while the other was a heavy impact tentacle like a battering ram.

Its spine-covered back also had several spinal barb launchers constantly writhing, aiming at the defensive line!

Executioner! One of the Tyranids' most fearsome frontal assault creatures!

"Concentrate fire! Aim for its joints and eyes!" Sergeant Golden roared, his voice hoarse, and his plasma gun was the first to open fire.

Blue plasma spheres slammed into the Executioner's head carapace, creating a scorched area, but failing to inflict a fatal wound!

"For the Emperor!" Dorian roared, his twin-linked meltagun roaring once more!

The searing beam slammed into the base of the Executioner's pincer-wielding arm; the carapace instantly melted and carbonized!

The Executioner let out a painful roar, and the movement of its crushing pincer noticeably slowed for a moment!

Lex roared and charged forward, his twin power axes furiously hacking at the Executioner's legs, trying to bring it down, but the axe blades could only leave deep scratches on the thick carapace, unable to cause effective damage!

Gaius' "Eagle Eye" rifle continuously targeted the Executioner's compound eyes and spinal barb launchers—relatively vulnerable areas—attempting to disrupt its perception and ranged attacks.

Sixth and Squad Seven also concentrated all their heavy firepower; Bolters, missiles, and lasers rained down on the colossal beast!

The Executioner let out a deafening roar, and its massive crushing pincer slammed down!

Lex couldn't dodge in time and could only block with his twin axes!

Boom!

A colossal clang like a bell ringing!

Lex was struck as if hit by a speeding rhino, sent flying backward, and crashed heavily into a pile of ruins.

His bionic arms emitted a twisting sound of unbearable strain, and he temporarily lost the ability to move!

The Executioner's heavy impact tentacle simultaneously swept across, smashing two Cadian soldiers and their cover into a bloody pulp as they tried to approach!

The spinal barb launchers spewed out dense, spear-like bone spikes, covering the crowd behind, instantly causing a large number of casualties!

The battle instantly entered its most brutal phase!

The Ultramarines of the three squads and the surviving Cadian soldiers, surrounding this terrifying behemoth, paid a huge price to barely suppress it.

Dorian's meltagun had cooled down again, and he risked being impaled by spinal barbs, charging to an extremely close range and firing again at the previously melted base of the pincer!

Swoosh—!

This time, the high temperature finally severed the main structure!

The massive crushing pincer, along with half an arm, broke off and fell with a crash, green blood gushing out like a waterfall!

The Executioner let out a dying, frenzied roar, its remaining heavy impact tentacle flailing wildly!

"Now!" Sergeant Golden seized the opportunity, his plasma gun charged to its limit, and fired a shot into its gaping maw, opened by its roar!

Boom!

An internal explosion erupted from the Executioner's head!

Its massive body twitched violently a few times, then finally crashed to the ground, raising a cloud of dust!

"It's dead!" The survivors let out cheers of relief, but their voices were filled with exhaustion and grief.

To take down this one Executioner, they had paid the price of at least ten warriors killed and many more seriously wounded.

However, before they could catch their breath—

Rumble!!!

The architectural remains on the other side were smashed through again!

A second Executioner! It charged out with an even more ferocious demeanor!

It seemed enraged by the death of its companion, directly locking onto Lex, who was closest to it, had just crawled out of the ruins, and was almost incapacitated, as well as Cliff and Medic Sore, who were trying to help Lex!

Its massive crushing pincer, with an aura of utter destruction, slammed down towards the three of them!

Its speed was far greater than the previous one!

"No!!!" Sergeant Golden and Dorian's eyes were bloodshot, but they were too far away to rescue them!

Cliff tried to push Lex away with his bionic arm, while Medic Sore instinctively shielded the two of them!

Just as the three were about to be smashed into a pulp—

Whoosh—!!!

That familiar, non-Imperial sniper shriek rang out again!

And it was sharper and more urgent than any previous time!

The next second, the second Executioner's monstrous, compound-eyed head, which was about to slam down, exploded violently as if detonated from within by an invisible, immense force!

Large amounts of carapace fragments, green blood, and brain tissue splattered everywhere!

Its massive body, having its central nervous system instantly destroyed, lost all strength.

The crushing pincer, which was about to strike, dropped powerlessly less than half a meter above Cliff's head, finally falling heavily to the ground with the enormous corpse!

It was him again! The Night Lords Champion!

Everyone looked in shock towards the direction the bullet had come from!

The dark figure was now standing on a broken sky-bridge at a higher elevation.

The barrel of the strange sniper rifle in his hand was emitting thick blue smoke, clearly indicating that the astounding shot had consumed a great deal of energy.

He maintained his firing posture, but his body swayed slightly.

He hadn't gone far, and the Tyranids clearly wouldn't let him go far.

And just as he shot and killed the Executioner, a gigantic, python-like serpent-creature, lurking in the shadows, suddenly lunged from the side.

Its venomous tentacles lashed fiercely at the Night Lords Champion's back!

Crack!

The sound of armor shattering was clearly audible!

He was whipped forward, tumbling several times before finally coming to a stop on the sky-bridge floor.

The two sniper rifles on his back almost slipped from his grasp.

The serpent-creature hissed and coiled, lunging at him, attempting to inject lethal neurotoxin.

But the Night Lords Champion displayed astonishing tenacity!

Even while on the ground, he suddenly drew the Bolter rifle he had previously taken from a fallen Ultramarine from his waist, and without looking, frantically sprayed the approaching serpent-creature's head!

Tat-tat-tat-tat!

The Bolter rounds accurately shattered the serpent-creature's head, green venom and tissue splattering everywhere.

The serpent-creature twisted and collapsed to the ground, no longer moving.

And the Night Lords Champion, after delivering this final blow, seemed to have exhausted all his strength.

The Bolter rifle in his hand slipped to the ground, his body twitched, a large amount of blood oozed from beneath his faceplate, and he finally became completely still, collapsing on the sky-bridge.

His dark armor was heavily damaged, covered in Tyranid claw marks, acid corrosion, and the terrible wounds inflicted by the serpent-creature.

A brief silence fell over the entire battlefield.

Everyone looked at the Night Lord lying on the sky-bridge, his fate unknown.

He had first saved Luna, and now he had saved Cliff, Medic Sore, and Lex.

But he had also plundered their supplies, and he had clearly been an enemy of theirs.

Complex emotions spread among all the survivors.

"...Go check on him," Sergeant Golden finally broke the silence, his voice incredibly complex.

Gaius, Dorian, and a few other able-bodied warriors cautiously approached the sky-bridge, their weapons still pointed at the fallen figure.

The Tyranids seemed to be in a brief state of confusion due to the deaths of the two Executioners and the serpent-creature, and their offensive slowed slightly.

They ascended the sky-bridge, and after confirming the surroundings were safe, they approached the Night Lord.

Dorian gently nudged him with his foot; there was no reaction.

Medic Sore, still shaken, stepped forward and performed a scan with his remaining medical equipment.

"He's alive... but his vital signs are very weak... multiple fractures, severe internal bleeding, neurotoxins are eroding... and..." Medic Sore's voice was filled with shock, "...he has a large number of... untreated old wounds and... traces of biological contamination... it's a miracle he's still alive!"

Sergeant Golden knelt down, carefully examining the Night Lord's equipment.

The two strangely shaped sniper rifles on his back: one was the powerful long-barreled sniper with unknown consumption, and the other was the same type of sinister sonic sniper rifle that had killed Elisa.

Seeing this rifle, Sergeant Golden's eyes instantly became cold and sharp, and his fist clenched tightly.

But... the one who killed Elisa was not this person.

Captain Talos' previous report and their recent observations confirmed this; there were at least two Night Lords at the time.

Moreover, this person's current actions...

"Sergeant... we..." Gaius looked at the fallen Night Lord, his emotions extremely complex.

This was an enemy, a traitor whose hands were likely stained with the blood of Imperial soldiers and civilians, but he had just saved their people, and he seemed to have been fighting the Tyranids and traitors alone all along.

Sergeant Golden remained silent for a long time, looking at the Night Lord's damaged armor, the various weapons he had collected, and the Cadian soldiers' ration cans on his waist...

Finally, he took a deep breath and made a decision: "Take him with us.

Give him emergency antidote and hemostatic, and lock his hands, feet, and power armor joints with restraint devices."

"Sergeant?" Dorian was somewhat puzzled, even displeased.

"He saved our people.

And..." Sergeant Golden's gaze swept over the sonic sniper rifle, then to Jerrison Fall's pale and blood-stained lower face, "...he might know a lot about other Night Lords, and even the Word Bearers.

He cannot die before he wakes up and gives us answers."

"Now, clear the remaining Tyranids, and reinforce the defensive line!

Reinforcements will arrive soon!"

The order was given.

This Night Lords Champion, whose identity was a mystery and whose actions were contradictory, by a twist of fate, temporarily fell into the hands of the Ultramarines as a prisoner.

His story, his loyalty or lack thereof, perhaps only when he awakens will a glimpse be revealed.

And the Tyranid swarm on Brakka VII remained boundless.

Inside the hastily established defensive stronghold, the atmosphere was oppressive and tense.

Though the swarm had temporarily receded, the unsettling roars and the sound of carapaces rubbing against each other in the distance never ceased, reminding everyone that the danger was still near.

In the core area of the stronghold, members of the Second Squad gathered in a circle, and in the center was the figure firmly bound to a heavy stretcher—the Night Lords Sniper Champion!

His Power Armor joints were physically locked, and his hands and feet were secured with high-strength magnetic shackles.

Even so, Gorden and Dorian dared not be careless, their weapons within easy reach.

Medic Sore had just injected him with a potent antidote and hemostatic gel, temporarily stabilizing his near-collapse physical condition.

He was now carefully scanning Jerrison's internal body with an instrument.

"By the Emperor..." Sore's brow furrowed deeper, his voice filled with disbelief, "His body... is almost completely hollowed out.

Severe malnutrition, atrophied organs, massive muscle tissue loss, all supported by the Power Armor's life support system and some kind of... incredibly tenacious willpower.

He has countless old injuries, at least three fatal wounds that were only crudely treated.

And that neurotoxin... although the antidote worked, it has already caused permanent damage to his nervous system."

Dorian leaned closer, looking at Jerrison's gaunt, almost skeletal lower face, with high cheekbones, revealed through his damaged faceplate, and couldn't help but click his tongue: "This guy... is as thin as a dried corpse dug out of a grave!

It's like he hasn't eaten in half a year!"

Gaius also felt a strong sense of confusion and... a hint of an indescribable emotion.

He recalled the Night Lords' previous actions of snatching Cadian rations and medical kits, and couldn't help but whisper to Gorden: "Sergeant... do the Night Lords... have no logistical supplies?

Do they just... wander the galaxy like this?"

Just then, an extremely faint groan, like a broken bellows, escaped the Night Lords' throat.

His sunken eyelids trembled a few times, then slowly opened, revealing a pair of incredibly deep, ice-blue eyes that seemed to hold endless fatigue, pain, and vigilance.

His gaze slowly swept over the Ultramarines surrounding him, finally settling on Gorden, without any emotional fluctuation, only a beast-like scrutiny.

"Water..." He uttered in an extremely hoarse voice, almost indistinguishable.

Gorden nodded to Sore.

Sore carefully fed him some purified water with a straw.

After drinking the water, Jerrison seemed to regain a trace of strength, but his gaze remained cold and wary.

"...Ultramarines... I didn't expect... to finally fall into your hands..." His voice was still hoarse, but carried a sense of resigned mockery.

"You saved our people," Gorden said directly, his voice steady, "Why?

Who are you?

Why did you steal our supplies, attack us, yet also attack the Word Bearers and the Tyranids?"

The Night Lords fell silent for a moment, as if gathering strength, or perhaps weighing his options.

His gaze swept over everyone again, particularly lingering on Gaius' useless left arm and Dorian's angry face.

"...Rations..." He didn't answer directly, but instead made a request, "...Give me... something to eat."

Gorden hesitated for a moment, then gestured to Luna.

Luna took out several boxes of standard military rations from the supply crate.

Seeing the rations, an extremely faint glimmer seemed to flash in Jerrison's ice-blue eyes, even carrying a hint of... greed?

He struggled to raise his hand, but the shackles restrained him.

Sore helped him open the rations and held them to his mouth.

The scene that followed filled all the Ultramarines with a sense of dread.

Jerrison Fall seemed to transform into a hungry beast, completely losing his composure and dignity, frantically, almost gulping down the paste-like substance in the rations!

He ate extremely quickly, even choking and coughing, yet never stopping!

One can was quickly emptied, and he eagerly looked towards the next.

Gorden motioned for Luna to continue giving him more.

The second... the third...

He ate seven standard military ration cans in one go!

Only then did the terrible hunger seem to be slightly alleviated, and his speed slowed down, but he was still carefully licking the inside of the can, not missing a single bit of residue.

All the observing Ultramarines fell silent.

They couldn't imagine what kind of situation could reduce an Astartes, a former Champion-level warrior, to such a state.

After eating his fill, the Night Lords seemed to have recovered a good deal of his spirit and strength.

He leaned back on the stretcher, letting out a long, satisfied sigh, as if this was the first time in a long while he had felt full.

Then, he looked at Gorden again, the coldness in his eyes seemingly melting a little, replaced by a deep, ingrained weariness.

"...Logistics?" He seemed to have heard Gaius' earlier whisper, and a bitter curve appeared on his lips, "...Ever since the Primarch was assassinated by that damned assassin... the Night Lords Legion was f***ing finished!

Completely scattered!"

His voice carried suppressed anger and pain.

"Some... like those scum you encountered... pledged allegiance to Chaos, mingled with those fanatics from the Word Bearers, finding pleasure in torment and slaughter... Others, like me... and a few remaining brothers... we didn't want to bow down to those damned Dark Gods... but we... couldn't go back either."

He paused, his voice becoming even deeper: "We stole a broken ship, on the fringes of Ultramar... surviving like rats.

Food?

Drink?

Ammunition?

Equipment?

All by stealing!

If we didn't steal from the Word Bearers' supply convoys, if we didn't raid the warehouses of those fringe worlds... were we supposed to wait to starve, die of thirst, or be eaten by the Tyranids?!"

His words revealed a cruel and true reality of the survival of low-level Chaos Space Marines—not all traitors bathed in the "blessings" of the Chaos Gods; more were struggling to survive in a desperate galaxy.

"Attack you?" The Night Lords' gaze swept over Cliff's bionic arm and everyone's wary eyes, and he sneered, "Ever since that damned betrayal on Calth... the Word Bearers particularly love to play these tricks!

Donning your Ultramarines' armor, disguising themselves as you, then suddenly turning on you when they get close!

My brothers and I... we've f***ing suffered from this!

Only I'm left alive!"

A deep hatred flashed in his eyes: "So, when I see blue armor... especially near areas where the Word Bearers are active... I don't care if it's real or not!

I'll attack first and ask questions later!

Better to kill the wrong one!"

He glanced at Cliff, "Losing an arm, consider yourself lucky."

"You are loyal neither to Chaos nor to the Emperor?" Luna asked, puzzled.

"As for the Word Bearers and those Legion scum who pledged allegiance to Chaos who died by my hand..." The Night Lords' voice carried a hint of ruthlessness, "...There are no fewer than those who died by your hands.

I kill them simply to steal things, and incidentally... to get revenge."

He suddenly moved his neck with difficulty, indicating something hanging by his armor's waist—it was a broken Lightning Claw, still flickering with faint electrical sparks!

"Those two... who colluded with the Word Bearers, the one with the Lightning Claw and the one with the sonic weapon, those bastards..." Jerrison's tone was as flat as if he were talking about a trivial matter, "...Half a month ago, in an abandoned space station, they were killed by me for the last bit of supplies.

This... is a trophy."

His words exploded in everyone's ears like thunder!

Dorian's eyes widened suddenly, his mouth agape, unable to speak for a long time.

Gorden's pupils also contracted slightly.

Gaius stood frozen, his emotions extremely complex.

Luna subconsciously covered her mouth.

Cliff and Sore also looked shocked.

Their bitter enemies, whom they had relentlessly pursued and hated to the core, had actually... actually died in the hands of another "enemy" in this manner?

This form of revenge left them feeling an extreme sense of absurdity and emptiness.

"...Thank you... for saving me and the others." Luna Aisa was the first to recover, she looked at the Night Lords and said softly, her tone complex.

Although his motives were impure, the life-saving grace was a fact.

The Night Lords glanced at her, seemingly surprised, then snorted coldly, turning his head away without responding.

Just then, the piercing alarm sounded again!

Luna's data-slate issued an urgent warning!

"Swarm!

A larger swarm is approaching!

Estimated contact in ten minutes!

The scale is more than three times larger than before!

There are signals of more large units!"

Everyone's faces instantly changed dramatically!

Having just endured a fierce battle, with huge ammunition consumption and many wounded, they simply could not withstand the next wave of attack!

"Command update!

Orbital bombardment delayed due to energy storm!

Support drop pods will arrive in at least two hours!" Luna's voice carried a hint of despair.

A desperate atmosphere permeated the stronghold.

Just then, the restrained Night Lords suddenly spoke, his voice still hoarse, but with an undeniable decisiveness: "...Unlock my armor... and my weapon."

Everyone was startled and looked at him.

"What do you want to do?" Gorden asked warily.

"Nonsense!" The Night Lords cursed, struggling to sit up, "Those brainless bugs don't care if you're an Ultramarines or a Night Lords, they just want to eat everyone!"

His gaze swept over the increasingly close swarm outside the window, and a beast-like will to survive and... perhaps the last trace of a warrior's pride burned in his ice-blue eyes.

"Give me back my weapon... one more person, one more gun... to hold out a little longer... but... after those bugs are repelled, then... I'm leaving."

Gorden stared intently into the Night Lords' eyes, seemingly judging how much of his words were credible.

Time was short, and every second was crucial.

Finally, Gorden gritted his teeth and ordered Dorian and Gaius, "Unlock his restraints! Give him back his weapons!"

"Sergeant?!"

"Execute the order!"

The restraints were unlocked, and the two unusually shaped sniper rifles and the Chainsword were placed beside the Night Lords. He struggled to sit up, stretching his stiff body, the bones clicking as they rubbed. He picked up the long-barreled sniper rifle, inspected it carefully, then touched the Bolt Pistol and medical kit he had taken from his waist.

"Hmph... not bad," he muttered, then looked at Gorden, "...Give me a firing position. A high one."

Gorden pointed to a damaged observation tower above the stronghold.

"Traitor, tell me your name!" Cliff said, looking at the Night Lords Champion who had cost him an arm but also saved his life.

"Jerrison Fall."

Jerrison Fall, this hungry, severely wounded, and complex Night Lords, limped with his injured leg, carrying his iconic weapons, step by step, resolutely walking towards his combat post.

For survival, or for the 'reward' of those seven cans, former enemies temporarily stood on the same front, jointly facing the sweeping, all-destroying tide of bugs.

The battle for survival on Brakka VII entered its most desperate countdown.

The roars of the bug tide grew closer like a wave of death, and the earth groaned and trembled under the trampling of countless claws and hooves. Inside the defensive stronghold, the last warriors gripped their weapons, their faces filled with determination. Ammunition was running low, the wounded could not be evacuated, and hope was slim.

Jerrison Fall dragged his injured leg, laboriously climbing the damaged observation tower. Each step made him flinch in pain, but his icy blue eyes were as sharp as an eagle's, fixed on the surging, terrifying torrent in the distant dust. He skillfully checked the powerful but of unknown cost long-barreled sniper rifle, loading the last few special rounds into the magazine.

"They're here!" Luna Aisa's voice came through the channel, with an uncontrollable tremor.

Like a black tsunami, the swarm once again engulfed the view. This time, it was mixed with more heart-stopping huge figures—more than one Executioner, and even several moving mountains of flesh like Venomthropes and Toxicrene, their sprayed venom mist and spore clouds making the air lethal. And in the very center of the swarm, an exceptionally tall figure, exuding a suffocating psychic pressure, loomed in and out of sight—

A Hive Tyrant! One of the Tyranid ground forces' command nodes and ultimate killing machines! Its appearance meant that the swarm's attack would become more organized and destructive!

"Priority target! Hive Tyrant!" Gorden roared hoarsely, but with a hint of powerlessness in his voice. Their heavy weapons were almost exhausted; how could they threaten a monster of that level?

The Hive Tyrant let out a soul-shaking psychic shriek, and the massive swarm, as if receiving an order, launched an even more frenzied and organized charge! The Ultramarines and Cadian soldiers' defense line instantly came under immense pressure, and people fell every minute!

On the observation tower, Jerrison Fall remained motionless like a stone statue, only his eyes behind the scope moving slightly, calculating wind speed, distance, and the erratic movement trajectory of the Hive Tyrant. His breathing became extremely slow, as if he had merged with the gun in his hand.

He knew there was only one chance. This special ammunition was extremely rare, and each shot would take a heavy toll on him. But if that command node wasn't eliminated, everyone would die.

"Give me... a chance..." His voice rasped in the encrypted channel; this was his repayment for the seven cans.

"All remaining heavy firepower! Concentrate fire on the swarm in front of the Tyrant! Clear the firing line!" Gorden ordered without hesitation!

Dorian roared, unleashing the last of his meltagun's energy, clearing a small area! Lex threw his last few grenades with his damaged bionic arm! Other warriors still able to fight also fired desperately!

For an instant, an extremely brief gap appeared in front of the Hive Tyrant!

Now!

Jerrison Fall pulled the trigger!

The long-barreled sniper rifle emitted a dull, suppressed roar, utterly different from before! The gun kicked back violently, the immense recoil even making the observation tower's structure groan! A solid, almost invisible beam of energy instantly ripped through the sky!

At the same time, Jerrison Fall himself was struck hard as if by an invisible heavy hammer, flying backward and crashing heavily against the broken wall of the observation tower, a large mouthful of blood spewing from beneath his faceplate, and the sniper rifle falling from his grasp! He curled up on the ground, twitching violently; clearly, this shot had drained a great deal of his life force!

And that energy beam, with incredible speed and precision, directly hit the Hive Tyrant's massive head, which contained terrifying psychic power!

There was no explosion, no flash of fire.

Only an extremely sharp, soul-rending psychic wail erupted from the direction of the Hive Tyrant! Its massive body suddenly stiffened, as if countless energies were wildly colliding and annihilating within its head! The psychic aura around it instantly collapsed, and the Tyranid units under its command instantly fell into chaos and stagnation!

A few seconds later, the Hive Tyrant's massive body swayed and then crashed to the ground! Although its head appeared intact externally, its internal nervous system and psychic core had been completely destroyed!

The command node was decapitated! The swarm's offensive instantly became chaotic and disorganized! Although still vast in number, its threat was greatly reduced!

"The Tyrant is dead!!!" Cheers of survival and even more intense firepower erupted from the position! The warriors took advantage of the swarm's confusion to desperately consolidate their defenses and eliminate approaching enemies.

Gorden immediately sent people to carry the dying Jerrison Fall down from the observation tower. He had fallen into a deep coma again, his condition even worse than before, as if he could die at any moment.

"Hold on! Support is coming soon!" Medic Sore desperately injected him with stimulants and stabilizers.

The next hour became a true purgatorial ordeal. The swarm, having lost its unified command, still attacked frantically based on instinct and numbers. The Second Squad and the remaining Cadian soldiers resisted inch by inch with sheer will and by utilizing the ruins, suffering heavy casualties and almost running out of ammunition and supplies.

Just as the defense line was about to completely collapse, the long-awaited roar of engines finally echoed from the sky!

Several Thunderhawk Gunships and Stormraven Gunships broke through the toxic clouds, their autocannons and missiles lashing down on the swarm like the whips of gods! Immediately after, numerous drop pods crashed like hail onto the rear of the battlefield, their hatches opening, and fresh, well-equipped Ultramarines reinforcements roared as they joined the battle!

Reinforcements had finally arrived!

The arrival of fresh forces instantly turned the tide of battle. Powerful firepower and coordinated tactics quickly fragmented and annihilated the chaotic swarm. The pressure on the battlefield drastically decreased.

Gorden watched the reinforcements clearing the battlefield, letting out a long sigh of relief, almost collapsing from exhaustion. He glanced at the unconscious Jerrison Fall on the ground and said to Sore, "Take him, and evacuate with us."

However, at that moment, the previously unconscious Jerrison seemed to be startled awake by the changes on the battlefield. He suddenly opened his eyes, saw more and more blue armor around him, and a flicker of panic and resistance instantly crossed his eyes! He struggled to get up, wanting to escape, to return to his dark and free existence.

But as soon as he moved, he collapsed again due to intense pain and weakness. He no longer had the strength to even lift a finger, only emitting faint, unwilling gasps. His icy blue eyes stared fixedly at Gorden, as if questioning why he hadn't been allowed to leave.

Gorden walked to his side, crouched down, and looked at him calmly: "You saved many people, Jerrison Fall. You proved your worth, not just as a raider. Besides, you are too severely injured; leaving alone would only lead to death."

"The Macragge's Honour has the best medical facilities. Come back with us, this is an order... and the price for those seven cans." Gorden's tone was unquestionable.

Jerrison stared intently at Gorden, and finally, the resistance and panic in his eyes slowly gave way to an extreme weariness and resignation. He closed his eyes, no longer struggling, as if accepting this twist of fate.

Soon, the evacuating Thunderhawk Gunship landed. The survivors of the Second Squad, along with the severely wounded Jerrison Fall, and the remains and gene-seeds of their fallen comrades, were carefully carried onto the gunship.

The hatch closed, and the gunship ascended, gradually leaving behind the still-blazing battlefield of Brakka VII below.

Jerrison Fall lay on the stretcher, looking out the viewport at the gradually shrinking planet, tormented by the swarm, his expression complex and unreadable. He had ultimately failed to escape the Ultramarines' control, and was even being taken to their massive flagship.

An unknown fate awaited him—would he be tried as a prisoner? Or would he be studied as... a potential collaborator? Or perhaps, could those seven cans truly offer him a different possibility?

No one knew the answer.

The Thunderhawk Gunship, carrying its scarred warriors and its complex prisoner, headed towards the massive Macragge's Honour in orbit.

The Thunderhawk Gunship smoothly docked into the vast and bustling hangar of the Macragge's Honour.

The moment the hatch opened, a cold, orderly atmosphere, vastly different from the inferno of the Brakka VII surface, washed over them.

The scent of disinfectant, ozone, machine oil, and the recycled air within the warship now smelled as peaceful as paradise.

Ground crew and Tech-Priests were already waiting, silently and efficiently moving forward to assist the wounded off the ship, receiving the bodies of the fallen.

The procedures were meticulous and swift, imbued with the cold dignity of the Imperium's war machine.

The survivors of the 7th Company, 2nd Squad, helped each other off the gunship.

Their armor was covered in deep claw marks, acid burns, and dried green and red bloodstains.

Every face was etched with exhaustion, pain, and a hint of dazed relief from surviving a catastrophe.

Yet, their spines remained straight, striving to maintain the demeanor of an Astartes warrior.

Sergeant Golden briefly reported the situation to an old veteran officer of the First Company who was there to greet them, emphasizing the elimination of the Hive Tyrant and the list of casualties.

When Jerrison Fall was mentioned, Gorden lowered his voice and provided additional details.

The officer's gaze immediately sharpened; he glanced at the dark figure lying unconscious on a stretcher, closely guarded by two Honor Guards, and nodded, indicating that special arrangements would be made.

Jerrison Fall was swiftly and cautiously transferred away, heading towards the restricted medical zone deep within the warship, where the highest level of isolation and scrutiny awaited him.

Meanwhile, Second Squad was led to the warship's medical deck for a comprehensive examination and treatment.

The medical deck was brightly lit, filled with the hum of various instruments.

Apothecary Vorlak personally examined Lex and Cliff, who had the most severe injuries.

Lex's internal bionic arm structures were severely damaged, requiring extensive repairs or even replacement of some core components.

Cliff's injuries were relatively stable, but his lost arm could not regenerate, requiring adaptation and optimization of a bionic prosthesis.

Dorian and Gorden mostly had superficial wounds and were suffering from exhaustion; after treatment, they were largely fine.

Medic Sore was busy assisting with the treatment of other wounded.

Gaius' situation was more unique.

Apothecary Vorlak conducted an extremely detailed scan and examination of his left arm, his expression growing increasingly solemn.

"The nanite cluster damage is more severe than anticipated; structural collapse exceeds forty percent.

The residue of that dark gold energy is highly corrosive, slowly destroying the remaining units and creating a dangerous stalemate with the Grey Knights' suppression mark."

Vorlak's mechanical manipulators operated the instruments, emitting cold binary whispers.

"The consequences of forced activation... are unimaginable.

You must absolutely avoid using your left arm for any overloaded or energy-channeling activities again, otherwise, in the worst-case scenario, it could lead to the necrosis of the entire limb, or even trigger an uncontrollable chain reaction, endangering your life."

Gaius nodded silently.

The faint pain and weakness in his left arm constantly reminded him of the price of that power.

"As for the Grey Knights' mark..." Vorlak looked at Gaius, "It is temporarily stable, suppressing that abnormal energy, but it also blocks the normal functional recovery of the nanite cluster.

This is a... very delicate and dangerous balance.

We cannot intervene without higher-level directives."

After their injuries were treated, the squad received a short period of rest.

They washed their bodies and changed into clean under-armor suits, but the mental exhaustion and trauma were difficult to wash away.

Soon after, a solemn memorial service for the fallen was held in the warship's sanctuary.

The names of all Ultramarines and Cadian soldiers who sacrificed themselves in the Brakka VII campaign were read out one by one.

Their gene-seed would be carefully preserved, and their deeds would be recorded.

The atmosphere was heavy and sorrowful, yet also filled with respect for the fallen and unwavering faith in the cause of the Imperium.

After the ceremony, Chapter Master Calgar unexpectedly summoned the 7th Company, 2nd Squad.

In the Chapter Master's grand yet simple council chamber, Calgar listened to Gorden's detailed report on the Brakka VII campaign, including Jerrison Fall's appearance, his actions, his testimony, and that crucial final shot.

Calgar listened in silence, his fingers unconsciously tapping the armrest of his throne.

When he heard Jerrison claim to have killed the two Night Lords enemies, his gaze flickered slightly.

"Jerrison Fall..." Calgar slowly repeated the name, "His testimony aligns with Captain Talos' previous report and fragmented information we've obtained from other sources.

Indeed, a small remnant force of Night Lords has been active on the fringes of Ultramar, attacking both the Imperium and Chaos, their behavior unpredictable."

He looked at Gorden: "You handled it well, Sergeant.

In that situation, maximizing all available strength to survive and bring back valuable clues was the correct decision.

As for his final disposition... it awaits the Chapter's high command's deliberation and decision after the review is complete.

That..." Calgar paused, clearly aware of the sonic weapon's existence, "...evil weapon must be strictly sealed."

"As for you all," Calgar's gaze swept over Gorden, Dorian, Gaius, Sore, and Luna, "your valiant fight and great sacrifice on Brakka VII bought time for the subsequent forces to purify and saved worlds that might have been devoured by the swarm.

The Ultramarines remember your deeds.

All survivors will receive an opportunity for deep gene-testing and physical augmentation from the Sanguine Consilium, and priority in equipment replenishment."

This was a very high honor and a substantial reward, signifying the Chapter's recognition of their value and its desire for them to regain combat effectiveness more quickly.

"Rest for a week.

Replacements and equipment will arrive as soon as possible.

The threat to Ultramar is far from over; the Imperium still needs your swords and shields," Calgar concluded.

"For the Emperor! For Macragge!" the squad members responded in unison.

After leaving the council chamber, everyone felt a little more relaxed.

The Chapter Master's recognition and rewards were the best affirmation of their efforts and sacrifices.

On their way back to their quarters, they passed an open training deck.

A newly reinforced squad of warriors happened to be undergoing adaptive training.

What caught their attention was that among these new recruits, they again saw several female Astartes.

Like the male recruits, they were engaged in strenuous hand-to-hand combat and shooting drills, their movements powerful, their eyes resolute.

Dorian watched them, then suddenly sighed and whispered to Gaius beside him, "Seeing them... I always think of Elisa... Do you think if she were still here, she'd be happier seeing things like this now?"

Gaius nodded silently.

Elisa's sacrifice seemed to be quietly changing some things; her path was now being followed by more people.

Just then, Luna Aisa walked over.

Her face was still a little pale, but her eyes had regained the calm and focus characteristic of a Tech-Sergeant.

She held a new data-slate displaying some complex parameters.

"Sergeant," she said to Gorden, "Regarding that Night Lord... Jerrison Fall.

I retrieved his preliminary scan data and some... non-invasive peripheral test results from when he was apprehended."

"Any findings?" Gorden asked.

"It's strange," Luna's brow furrowed slightly.

"His gene sequence... indeed belongs to the Night Lords Legion, but certain segments show... abnormal decay and mutation, which is consistent with prolonged exposure to extreme environments, lack of necessary maintenance, and severe nutritional deficiencies.

His biological age... is far lower than his actual years of service; this accelerated aging is also a sign of system collapse."

"More importantly," she zoomed in on an area of the data-slate, "His psychological fluctuation monitoring shows... an extremely complex mixture of emotions.

He has deep vigilance and hostility towards the Ultramarines, but at the same time... towards Chaos forces, especially the Word Bearers, he has a deeper, almost instinctive aversion and hatred.

There's also a... very strong, suppressed... pain from a 'lack of belonging'."

"He seems... truly as he said, neither identifying with the Imperium nor hating Chaos, like a homeless wanderer, fighting and plundering merely for basic survival," Luna concluded, her tone carrying a hint of inexpressible emotion.

"From a purely data analysis perspective, his testimony... is highly credible."

Everyone fell silent.

The image of Jerrison Fall became even more complex in their minds.

He was not a simple traitor or enemy, but a tragic figure abandoned by time and fate, struggling to survive on the edge of despair.

The week-long rest period quickly passed.

Second Squad was reinforced with two experienced veterans, restoring them to full strength of six members.

Lex's bionic arms had been significantly upgraded, becoming more robust and powerful.

Cliff had also adapted to his new prosthesis.

Everyone's equipment had been updated and strengthened.

Just before they were about to embark on their next mission, a preliminary review conclusion regarding Jerrison Fall was relayed to Gorden.

The review concluded that Jerrison Fall's statements were highly consistent with existing intelligence, and his hostile actions against Chaos forces had verifiable value.

He possessed extremely high individual combat capability and survival experience, particularly excelling in sniping and stealth.

However, his identity was sensitive, his danger unknown, and he had an unidentified energy contamination within his body, so his release or assimilation was not recommended at this time.

The proposed disposition: indefinite detention in a special confinement zone, to be used as a potential intelligence source and subject for observation and research.

In other words, Jerrison Fall, through his actions and intelligence, had temporarily saved his life, but also lost his freedom.

He would be forever imprisoned deep within the Macragge's Honour, accompanied by darkness and solitude, until he lost his value or was finally disposed of.

Gorden informed the squad members of this news.

Upon hearing it, Dorian mumbled, "...Better than being directly purged.

At least... he'll have food and drink."

But there was little joy in his tone.

Gaius' mood was equally complex.

That figure, struggling to survive in the darkness like a lone wolf, ultimately seemed unable to escape the net of fate.

Just then, new mission orders arrived.

"7th Company, 2nd Squad, proceed to the briefing room immediately! New situation!"

The brief rest ended, and the horn of war sounded again.

The members of Second Squad cast aside all distractions, their gazes once again sharp and resolute.

They tidied their brand-new armor and weapons and walked towards the briefing room.

No matter what the future held, no matter who the enemy was, their duty would never change.

For the Emperor, for Ultramar, and for those dreams that remained unfulfilled.

The lights in the briefing room dimmed, and a massive star map holographic projection lit up, replacing the oppressive grey-green of Brakka VII. However, the new objective brought no relief.

"The scout ship 'Sharp Sight' detected abnormal energy fluctuations at the edge of the K-77 Nebula," the 7th Company Captain's voice was cold and urgent. "After high-risk close-range reconnaissance, it was confirmed to be a partially cloaked Word Bearers heavy cruiser—the 'Blasphemous Tongue'. It appears to be undergoing some kind of large-scale Warp engine maintenance or modification, with relatively weak defenses, but surrounded by numerous psychic traps and sensors."

The holographic image focused on the twisted, grotesque warship, which resembled a venomous snake lurking in the nebula's shadows, its hull adorned with blasphemous runes that glowed with an ominous light.

"This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!" the Captain emphasized. "Striking while its engines are not fully restored, to board and capture or destroy the ship, will greatly weaken the Word Bearers' strength in this sector! Chapter Master's orders: The First Company 'Death Company' will lead the main attack, with 7th Company, 2nd Squad and 3rd Squad as the second wave, responsible for expanding the gains and destroying key areas!"

Boarding action! One of the Astartes' most dangerous and brutal combat methods, a no-retreat battle fought deep within the enemy's lair.

"Mission objective: Prioritize the destruction of its Warp engine core and main weapon arrays. If possible, capture the bridge. Resistance is expected to be extremely fierce; the Word Bearers will undoubtedly fight like cornered beasts. May the Emperor protect you."

There was no more time for hesitation. Alarms blared throughout the warship, and all units participating in the boarding action immediately headed to the armory and launch bays for final preparations.

The members of Second Squad silently checked their boarding gear—assault pod adapters, mag-locks, extra melta bombs, and breaching charges. The atmosphere was as heavy as lead. Even for these battle-hardened veterans, facing a mission to board a Word Bearers warship, they dared not be careless.

"Come back alive, all of you." Sergeant Golden said only this, his gaze sweeping over each team member—Dorian, Gaius, Lex, Cliff, Sore, Luna, and two newly assigned veterans.

"For Macragge!" they roared in response.

The assault torpedoes carrying the First Company Death Company, like arrows released from a bow, were the first to detach from the Macragge's Honour, trailing blue exhaust plumes, streaking like desperate meteors towards the distant 'Blasphemous Tongue'.

Second Squad and other follow-up units boarded the slightly slower but more heavily armored assault pods, awaiting the order to deploy.

The comms channel was silent, save for the faint static. Everyone could hear their own heavy heartbeats.

Suddenly, the comms channel erupted with the First Company Captain's urgent shouts, mixed with the sound of violent explosions: "Outer hull breached! Facing heavy resistance! It's a trap! They had prepa—"

The communication cut off abruptly! Replaced by a sharp, blasphemous psychic interference noise!

Almost simultaneously, the Macragge's Honour's sensors showed that dozens of life signal markers representing the First Company Death Company extinguished collectively in a very short time! Like candles blown out by a strong wind!

The entire ship was stunned!

The elite assault team of the First Company… almost immediately upon successful boarding… completely annihilated?!

"Second wave! Deploy immediately! Repeat! Second wave deploy immediately! At all costs, ascertain the situation and complete the mission as best as possible!" The emergency order came from command, with a hint of barely concealed shock and fury in the voice!

No time for mourning or fear! Second Squad's assault pod and those of other follow-up units were immediately launched, like moths to a flame, rushing towards the Word Bearers warship that had already bared its bloody fangs!

Violent tremors and impacts! The assault pod, relying on its powerful kinetic energy and front-mounted melta drill, slammed hard into the hull of the 'Blasphemous Tongue'!

The moment the hatch burst open, a hellish scene assaulted them!

The narrow corridor was filled with the heavy stench of blood and ozone, and the walls were splattered with fresh blue and green blood! The shattered bodies of First Company Death Company warriors and the twisted remains of Word Bearers were intertwined, almost blocking the passage! Clearly, a brief but utterly brutal close-quarters massacre had just taken place here!

"Maintain formation! Advance!" Sergeant Golden roared, his plasma gun firing first, vaporizing a Word Bearers fanatic who charged from around a corner!

Combat erupted instantly! The Word Bearers' resistance was indeed incredibly fanatical! They exploited the ship's complex terrain and pre-set traps, launching suicidal charges, with various vicious small arms and sorcery appearing endlessly!

Second Squad advanced with difficulty, each step treading on the bodies of comrades and enemies. Dorian's twin-linked melta gun was devastating in the narrow corridors but had limited firing arcs. Lex's twin power axes became the backbone of the close-quarters combat, tearing apart any approaching enemy like a meat grinder. Gaius, wielding his 'Hawk-eye', precisely picked off distant cultists and traitors operating heavy weapons. Luna constantly bypassed the psychic traps and electronic locks set by the Word Bearers, clearing a path. Sore, Cliff, and the two veterans covered the flanks and rear.

They encountered Word Bearers wearing Ultramarines armor, attempting to feign an ambush, and also mutated creatures strengthened by Chaos energy, covered in tentacles. The battle was exceptionally arduous, but Second Squad, relying on their tacit cooperation and the advantages of their new equipment, miraculously withstood the pressure, gradually approaching the designated engine core area.

The corridor gradually widened, seeming to enter a large supply distribution area. Resistance here actually weakened, with only sporadic potshots.

"Watch out for ambushes!" Sergeant Golden warned.

Luna quickly scanned ahead: "Detecting a strong Warp energy source… right behind that large door ahead! But… no large number of life signals detected?"

The squad cautiously approached the massive metal door, inscribed with blasphemous runes. Lex tried to push it open with his bionic arm, but the door remained motionless.

"Needs breaching!" Dorian prepared to install melta bombs.

"Wait!" Luna suddenly stopped him, looking at her data-slate, her expression puzzled. "The door lock system… is open? It seems… someone disengaged the lock from the inside?"

Everyone exchanged glances; this was too abnormal.

Sergeant Golden gestured, and the squad, in combat formation, violently pushed open the heavy door!

The sight behind the door made everyone gasp!

It was a massive main engine room, like a cultist temple. The colossal Warp engine pulsed in the center like a twisted metal heart, emitting suffocating psychic fluctuations and green, evil light. However, the critical conduction structures and control nodes around the engine had already been deliberately and brutally destroyed! Huge cracks, melted pipes, and explosion marks were everywhere!

The engine room was littered with the bodies of Word Bearers Tech-Priests and guards; they appeared to have been ambushed and killed from behind while unprepared!

And in the center of the engine room, most shockingly—a blasphemous altar piled high with corpses!

On the altar, a large, constantly writhing Chaos symbol was drawn in blood. At the center of the symbol, not some evil relic, but a subtly pulsing, glowing with eerie green light… Gene-Seed!—Next to it lay several other equally ominous-looking Chaos Gene-Seeds belonging to the Word Bearers!

At the base of the altar, a twisted, malicious line of gothic text was written in blood:

"This is a gift from the 'True Gods', please accept it with a smile, you lapdogs of the False Emperor."

The entire engine room was deathly silent, with only the unstable hum of the damaged Warp engine and the hiss of energy leaks.

The Word Bearers… destroyed their own main engine? And left… "gifts"?

This bizarre scene was beyond everyone's comprehension.

"It's a trap!" Dorian growled, raising his gun and scanning his surroundings warily.

Luna quickly scanned the altar and the Gene-Seeds: "Energy readings are abnormal… mixed with strong Warp contamination and… some kind of directional beacon fluctuation! They've been tampered with! Touching or attempting to take them might trigger a violent Warp explosion or… something worse!"

Sergeant Golden's face was grim. They were too late, or rather, the Word Bearers never intended to hold this place. They were one step ahead, destroying the engine and leaving this malicious "gift" as a taunt and a trap.

"Destroy it!" Sergeant Golden ordered decisively, "Use melta bombs, thoroughly purify this place!"

Dorian and Lex immediately moved forward, maintaining a safe distance, and threw several high-explosive melta bombs at the evil altar and the still-pulsing engine core.

The squad quickly exited the engine room.

Boom—!!!

A violent explosion erupted behind them, the scorching light and shockwave even catching up to them! The entire hull trembled violently from this powerful internal explosion!

The main engine of the Word Bearers cruiser 'Blasphemous Tongue' was completely destroyed.

The mission… was completed in a strange and unsettling way.

But no one felt joy. The annihilation of the First Company Death Company, the abnormal behavior of the Word Bearers, and that malicious "gift" all hung like a heavy shadow over everyone's hearts.

What exactly did the Word Bearers intend? They seemed to have anticipated the boarding action and meticulously prepared this "welcome ceremony." What conspiracy did that contaminated Gene-Seed hide?

Second Squad, filled with doubts and heavy hearts, retreated along the way they came. They encountered only sporadic resistance; the main force of the Word Bearers seemed to have already withdrawn.

They successfully rendezvoused with the escorting units and boarded the returning Thunderhawk Gunship.

No casualties, mission "accomplished."

But everyone knew that in this boarding action, they had not won a victory; they had merely stumbled into a carefully laid slaughterhouse and brought back more unsettling mysteries.

The Thunderhawk Gunship departed from the Word Bearers warship, which was continually exploding internally and gradually falling silent.

Gaius looked out the viewport at the receding evil daemon ship, like a giant coffin, and the ominous premonition in his heart grew stronger.

The Word Bearers' "gift" would never be that simple.