The Empire's near-frenzied projection of force across every front during the "Last Line of Defense" phase landed like a savage, crushing blow against Chaos' seemingly unstoppable advance.
The steel tide of the Ventrilian Noble Army. The precise strikes of the Tempestus Scions. The mercurial tactics of the Hebrew Blade Legion. Combined with inexhaustible waves of Imperial Guard infantry and the terrifying firepower of Knight mechs touching down in scattered deployments, they generated tremendous counter-pressure across every front.
Chaos' offensive, which had been surging forward like a gale, suddenly bogged down. It ground to a halt, then began fracturing and retreating in localized pockets.
The troop count, that cold number representing the total Chaos investment on the planet Alacaster, began plummeting like an avalanche:
300,000
250,000
200,000
Daemon Engines were destroyed one by one beneath the focused fire of Knight melta-cannons and Imperial Navy orbital bombardment. Entire traitor regiments were annihilated under the elite assault of the Noble Army and the Scions.
Even the formidable Chaos Space Marine warbands suffered grievous losses, hunted down by Astartes squads, Dreadnoughts, and Imperial elites alike. Chaos' strength melted away like snow under sunlight, ground down mercilessly by the Empire's war machine running at full throttle.
150,000
100,000
80,000
On the outskirts of Sikhane Hive, the encirclement was torn open as the Noble Army and the Imperial Fists struck from within and without. In the heart of Ormus Hive City, User114514, backed by the Tempestus Scions, launched a ferocious counterattack that drove the Plague Legion back step by agonizing step.
On the scorched earth of Heralius Hive City, I Am Not God and the Hebrew Blade Legion fought side by side and, at great cost, slew yet another Bloodthirster of Khorne.
The [Thirteenfold Holy Destruction] counter advanced to [7/13]. The double-headed eagle banner of the Empire was raised anew over more and more ruins.
60,000
50,000
40,000
The scales of victory seemed to be tipping irreversibly toward the Empire. Hope began to kindle in the hearts of countless spectators and Imperial players. Perhaps they really could hold. Perhaps they could even push back?
Just as Chaos' troop count broke below the fifty-thousand threshold, Imperial morale surging to a fever pitch, poised to deliver the killing blow to the remnants:
HMMMMM——!!!
A vast, overwhelming force swept through the entirety of the Chaos faction's communication network and warp-sense layer. It was similar in scale to when the Empire's "Last Line of Defense" had activated, yet utterly opposite in nature. Every Chaos player's vision was forcibly wrenched away, dragged into a strategic map stained with dark crimson, sickly purple, diseased green, and seductive pink light, endlessly twisting and writhing.
On the map, the black territories representing Chaos had been dramatically compressed. Reduced to a few isolated pockets near Sikhane and Heralius Hive Cities, each under constant pressure from Imperial blue arrows. The total Chaos troop figure read a stark [50,000], and was still slowly falling.
Yet a deeper, far more frenzied voice thundered through the consciousness of every Chaos player. It felt as if it had been drawn from the uttermost depths of the warp itself, formed from the confluence of countless blasphemous wills. The voice mingled Khorne's war-cry, Tzeentch's whisper, Nurgle's sigh, and Slaanesh's moan:
[Ignorant mortals! The setbacks you perceive are nothing more than inconsequential ripples in the eternal crusade!]
[Can the death-throes of the Corpse-Emperor and his rotting Empire truly impede the grand procession of the Ruinous Powers?!]
[A brief retreat only gathers a more savage destruction! A momentary check only kindles a more blazing desecration-fire!]
[For the eternal glory of Chaos! For the endless honor and ecstasy of the Gods!]
[Now: launch the Final Offensive!]
[Let despair and annihilation become the last epitaph of this world!]
The moment the voice fell silent, the strategic map erupted.
Among the Chaos fleet markers locked in a losing standoff with the Imperial Navy in orbit, several abnormally massive triangular sigils wreathed in black smoke blazed to life and began pushing forward.
[Black Legion Cruiser Squadron: "Herald of the End," "Talon of Desecration"... have reached low orbit and are joining the engagement!]
These elite warships of Abaddon's Black Legion boasted firepower and armor immeasurably superior to the ramshackle Chaos fleet that had come before. They threw themselves into furious broadside exchanges with Imperial Navy vessels. Though unable to seize the upper hand immediately, they succeeded in locking down the Imperial Navy's attention and firepower completely.
A critical battlefield notice appeared:
[Imperial Navy orbital strike frequency and accuracy have decreased significantly due to the intervention of Chaos elite fleet elements. Ground forces must prepare for sustained, high-intensity ground combat.]
Immediately after, a surge of dark crimson enhancement-light swept simultaneously across every Chaos player's interface:
[The Favor of Chaos: During the Final Offensive phase, all points earned by Chaos faction players through kills, objective captures, and battlefield mission completions are increased by 50%! Appease the Gods with skulls and ruin!]
This meant Chaos' elite players and commanders would accumulate resources far faster, summoning more powerful support and purchasing higher-tier upgrades with terrifying efficiency.
On the map, the nodes representing Chaos' troop sources, previously dim, pulsed furiously once more.
[Chaos Rift Stability temporarily increased! Chaos Fanatic Legions are deploying en masse via warp-tide! Final troop replenishment: the largest yet!]
Countless tiny black points of light erupted like volcanic ash from several major warp rift locations, pouring into Chaos lines across every combat zone. The precipitous troop count decline halted, and then began a slow recovery.
But this was not all.
At several key positions on the strategic map, particularly at nodes behind the Empire's strongest defensive lines and most aggressive advances, enormous markers suddenly materialized. They reeked of an aura that made even the bravest soul quail: skull-and-eight-pointed-star composite sigils, immense in scale. The text beside them sent a shiver of dread and excitement through every Chaos player who read it:
[War Behemoths: Helldrake Daemon Engines, authorized for manifestation, currently deploying to pre-designated impact coordinates!]
[Orders: Crush all Imperial defensive lines! Clear the path for the ultimate arrival that follows!]
As these horrifying entities were scheduled for deployment, the warp readings across the entire Chaos combat zone spiked into madness. The fabric of reality began to shimmer with unstable ripples. The sky was daubed in ever more grotesque hues.
The strategic map slowly faded. Players returned to the battlefield.
But the atmosphere had changed utterly.
The morale the Empire had just managed to rebuild was hammered from every direction. Overhead, orbital exchanges intensified into chaos.
At the front lines, fresh Chaos troops surged as if the enemy could never truly be killed. And from somewhere deep in the rear, disquieting tremors and psychic pressure radiated outward like a slow, creeping infection.
In the Chaos faction, the eyes of every single player burned with a wilder, more ravenous light. Accelerated score gain. The final all-out assault. Legendary War Behemoths standing alongside them. This was a desperate last stand, and a supreme opportunity to seize ultimate glory with the blood and ruin of the Imperial defenders.
In Heralius Hive City, I Am Not God raised his head.
He watched orbital strike-flashes cross the horizon, denser and more chaotic than before. He felt rhythmic, muffled tremors traveling through the earth beneath his feet, like the heartbeat of some enormous beast emanating from deep within the hive city, from somewhere behind the Chaos lines.
He tightened his grip on his chainsword. The blessing of the [Living Saint] seemed to sense the approach of something far more powerful and malevolent, warming faintly against his skin.
"The final offensive, then..." he murmured.
He glanced at the mission counter reading [7/13], then lifted his gaze toward the ever-thickening pall of smoke deep within the Hive City, a roiling cloud that mixed the reek of blood, sulfur, rot, and cloying sweetness.
۞۞۞۞
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