No sunlight could be seen in the sky.
The clouds had long since dispersed in the wake of the great battle.
In the clear, vast sky, only that behemoth, which eclipsed the stars, slowly moved its body, gliding over the heads of the crowds.
Then, within its boundless shadow, it brought infinite terror to the human defenders who had never seen such a behemoth before.
The ancient ship was several times larger than a standard Tyranid Swarm hive ship; before it, the Imperium's conventional battleships were like'shrimp beside a whale.'
Its body was covered in hundreds of meters of chitinous armor. Beneath this armor, it possessed not only the plasma cannons, acid cannons, bio-torpedoes, and predatory tentacles common to the Tyranid Swarm.
But it even came equipped with incubation nests capable of producing massive amounts of ship-borne aircraft!
Coupled with its massive size, this single bio-ship could hatch hundreds of millions of Tyranid bio-war beasts at an incredibly fast speed.
If one had to name the only weakness of this behemoth, it was that while it was powerful individually, it was also the core of will for a specific Tyranid Swarm tentacle.
Destroying one ancient ship would cause the entire hive fleet on that tentacle to collapse and lose the ability to act, truly inflicting a strategic-level blow against the Tyranid Swarm.
Although this was not the first time an ancient ship had appeared within human sight—having once been spotted near the Eye of Terror—
the origins of this behemoth had always remained a mystery. However, according to the latest research from the Adeptus Mechanicus and even the Inquisition, it was highly likely that this behemoth did not originate from the galaxy, but from a neighboring galaxy that had been completely devoured by the Tyranids.
In other words, this ancient ship came from outside the galaxy, having navigated the boundless void between two galaxies before arriving at Terra.
And now, this very behemoth, whose mere appearance was enough to generate infinite fear and despair, was using its unrivaled, towering body to constantly patrol around Earth.
Beneath the shadow of the behemoth.
Soldiers huddled at their posts, whether behind high walls or between fortresses.
Although their positions differed, almost everyone clutched their rifles, huddling with their backs to the sky.
Their bloodshot, terrified eyes dared only to stare fixedly at the ground beneath their feet.
At this moment on the surface of Terra, the only ones who dared to face the sky were the Custodians on the Terra Imperial Palace in the Himalayas, and the Imperial Fists Company Captain in charge of defense: Lysander!
There was no Primarch, the Lord Solar was absent, and Lorgar Aurelian was even forced to take a large number of Custodians out to defend against the Tyranid Swarm.
All these factors resulted in the defense of the Imperial capital falling, surprisingly, onto the shoulders of a single Astartes Company Captain.
But whether it was the deployed Lorgar Aurelian or Leontus, or the High Lords remaining on Terra,
almost everyone showed infinite trust in this Company Captain.
Apart from his clear refusal to succeed as the Imperial Fists Chapter Master and his vow to remain a Company Captain forever,
it was also because of this man's exaggerated combat record.
Just as the Lamenters, Malakin, had thought when facing 101, although Sith's 101 was already exaggerated enough, in this damn galaxy, the Imperium never lacked badasses!
Lysander lost his parents at the age of 13, then traveled alone across the long galaxy to arrive at Holy Terra.
He was subsequently discovered and recruited by an Imperial Fists Chaplain. During a bloody battle, he fell into the Warp and actually fought alone for nearly a thousand years.
So much so that the Chapter thought he was dead, had already erected a monument for him, and started burning incense, only for the man to actually fight his way out of the Warp again.
Afterward, he led fifteen Imperial Fists to withstand the siege of three thousand rebels, and even turned the tables to annihilate them.
Finally, he was captured by the Iron Warriors. After being tortured for weeks, not only did he not yield, but he also fought his way out of the Iron Warriors' prison with his bare hands to escape.
Upon returning to Terra, he underwent round after round of examinations by the Inquisition, Chapter Chaplains, Apothecaries, and Librarians, and the result was that this lad didn't even have a trace of Warp corruption.
So much so that many believed this lad had perfectly inherited the 'tenacity' of his Primarch, Rogal Dorn, and that facing any powerful enemy could not shake his resolve.
And at this moment, as Lysander took over the defense of Terra, he was one of the few who dared to look up all day long, scrutinizing the Tyranid behemoth.
At the top of a fortress high in the palace. Lysander wore the yellow power armor of the Imperial Fists, holding Rogal Dorn's power fist, the 'Fist of Dorn,' in his right hand.
While looking at the behemoth above, he publicly complained about Guilliman, who had launched the Indomitus Crusade.
"If it weren't for Guilliman pulling away so many of our men to insist on some Indomitus Crusade,"
"how could we have let these wretched xenos threaten Holy Terra!"
Lysander was not polite when it came to Guilliman.
Aside from the defensive predicament of the Segmentum Solar, a large part of the reason was indeed that Guilliman had pulled away a massive amount of effective combat strength.
It also included some inherent reasons of the Imperial Fists; after all, during the Great Heresy on Terra back then, Guilliman's 'nine more hours' of support had truly screwed over the Imperial Fists.
Even now, many Imperial Fists believed that the departure of their gene-father was caused by this Guilliman, who had left Terra to fend for itself and insisted on establishing some Second Imperium.
Now that they were caught off guard by the Tyranids striking at the core of the Imperium, how could the Imperial Fists, who specialized in the defense of Terra, not blame Guilliman?
Especially Guilliman's attitude toward their requests for aid, which made Lysander and the other Imperial Fists grit their teeth in anger.
After finishing his look at the Tyranid ancient ship still cruising above, Lysander withdrew his gaze:
"Reinforcements..."
"These reinforcements won't also take 'nine more hours,' will they?"
Lysander looked at the Imperial Fists beside him to complain. Although the Astartes with fists engraved on their shoulder pads did not respond, they couldn't help but glance at the sky.
After all, according to Guilliman's comforting words, the reinforcements he spoke of should have arrived several months ago!
Although this was not Guilliman's fault—after all, even Guilliman would be embarrassed to demand that Sith forcibly send troops when the situation on the Alert Star was so dire.
In the end, if it weren't for Sith going to drag out the Ancient Legions from the Great Heresy, perhaps Sith wouldn't even have been able to fight into the Segmentum Solar by now.
Let alone providing substantial support to Terra.
It was just that Lysander and his men didn't know, and Guilliman dared not say, that the reinforcements brought by Sith were the very people who had fought against their predecessors in front of the palace during the Great Heresy.
Otherwise, once Lysander found out, he would likely have the stubborn Imperial Fists open fire on Sith the moment he appeared, no questions asked.
After saying this, Lysander sighed helplessly in his heart and looked at the sky again. Although he was complaining,
if one were to ask who in the entire galaxy was most looking forward to Sith at this moment, it was probably none other than Lysander before them.
Yet, as Lysander looked at the sky with anticipation for who knows the how-many-th time, he was still met only with the shadow of the behemoth and the empty, cold void.
In the sky, a new round of Tyranid spore cysts began to fall.
The long-silent orbital cannons opened fire once again, and Terra, which had been quiet for only a moment, was plunged back into the roar of war.
Watching the number of Tyranids, which was several times greater than before, Lysander could only grit his teeth, take one last look at the sky, and then turn to prepare to command the battle.
But just as he turned around, an official from the High Lords Council ran over, holding a military report with excitement.
"Reinforcements! Reinforcements are about to arrive!"
Lysander, who had already given up hope, was stunned. Then, with an action completely inverse to his 'disdainful' attitude, he snatched the report.
But before hope could even rise on his face, faced with the arrival time given in the brief content, he briefly froze, then instantly flew into a rage and tore it to shreds!
"How is it f***ing again..."
"Nine hours?!!!"
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