The desert battlefield had already transformed into a vision of hell.
Zerg carcasses piled into rolling hills, while yellow-green corrosive blood boiled and churned, eating into the sand and forming countless honeycomb-like cavities. Each pit bubbled with acrid, acidic vapors.
Even more horrifying mutations were breeding in the flesh and gore.
Black-purple creep spread like a living plague, proliferating madly. Its viscous, organic layers slithered across the sand, veins pulsating on its surface.
This grotesque biomass advanced across the battlefield at half a meter per second. Sand grains began to exude sticky mucus wherever it passed. The desert was being remade into a revolting flesh-marsh.
With each step, the Salamanders' mag-boot soles lifted strands of biological webbing. The ground groaned like the belly of a behemoth.
The creep not only served as a rapid regeneration bed for the Zerg, but also allowed them to move in near-perfect stealth. What had once been a dry and hard desert had become the home field of the swarm.
The first to notice something wrong was a tactical squad leader.
The vibration sensors in his power armor suddenly flared with warnings. Faint, irregular tremors pulsed from below—almost undetectable. A red alert window exploded on the right side of his visor.
"Something's underground—"
Before he could finish, the creep behind the Salamanders erupted like a boiling cauldron.
BOOM—BOOM—!
With deafening explosions, dozens of "lurkers" burst from the earth, their forms resembling gigantic spiders.
Each was the size of a main battle tank, their exoskeletons coated in the same dark-purple bio-armor as the creep. Their scythe-like limbs ended in drill-like chitinous growths.
Most horrifying was their symbiotic bond with the creep: each time a limb struck the ground, tendrils of meat-like mycelium spewed from the wounds, stitching them to the land like thread through flesh.
?!
"AMBUSH!"
Even the Astartes Salamanders couldn't help but let slip a moment of shock over the tactical channel at the sudden, lethal strike.
But their reaction was lightning-fast. Bolter fire erupted almost in sync with the lurkers emerging.
TANG! TANG-TANG!
75-caliber explosive bolts rained like a storm. The rounds struck the thick shells of the lurkers, flaring in bursts of sparks.
Yet these elite Zerg were far tougher than common variants. The molten metal only left blackened dents on their carapaces—it failed to penetrate.
1.0-caliber heavy bolter rounds slammed into joints, just barely tearing through some of the bio-armor. Yellow-green acid blood sprayed, sizzling as it scorched deep pits into the sand.
Reeeeeew-CHOOM!
Plasma bolts sliced the air and slammed into lurker torsos. The superheated, high-energy blasts carbonized wide swathes of their shells, releasing a putrid stench of scorched flesh.
But the beasts didn't fall. If anything, the agony drove them into a frenzy.
Their limbs extended outward like massive scythes, sweeping the battlefield. The sharp chitinous edges howled as they tore the air.
The servo systems of the Salamanders' Titan armor whined at high frequency. Hydraulic joints strained at maximum load as the warriors retreated with superhuman agility.
Sweeping claws grazed their chest plates, carving deep trenches into the sand. Flying stones and slime splattered against armor, hissing with corrosive heat.
"Close combat team, suppress them!"
At the command, half the Salamanders had already drawn their melee weapons—chainswords, power axes.
Saws roared. Energy fields whined. Deadly blades carved through the air with icy arcs.
The lurkers tried to intercept with their limbs, but the Astartes' combat instincts let them evade with hairline precision.
Chainsword teeth bit into carapace seams, spinning furiously. Disruption field-enhanced edges ground flesh to pulp. Pressurized Zerg blood sprayed like jets.
Power axes, sheathed in plasma energy fields, cleaved through bio-armor, sending meat and shell flying.
But these elite Zerg were unnaturally tenacious. Even as limbs were severed and carapaces shattered, they retaliated with terrifying fury.
Worse, their ambush had shattered the Salamanders' defensive formation.
While the Astartes were locked in melee with the lurkers, the main swarm continued its advance across the horizon. The creep churned. Zerg shrieked. A new wave of slaughter approached.
Tens of thousands of Zerglings and Roaches poured from the sticky biomass. Their shells were slick with creep mucus, making their already fast charges even deadlier.
Their compound eyes burned with bloodlust. Their limbs scuttled rapidly across the creep, hissing like a swarm of serpents. The desert beneath them seemed to boil.
Suddenly, the sky darkened—
Swarms of flying Mantis-Zerg blotted out the moon. Their wings buzzed at high frequencies. Acid sacs swelled beneath them, ready to burst.
Acid projectiles rained down like a storm.
Corrosive liquid slammed into Titan armor whose shields were temporarily down. Smoke hissed from seams. Damage alerts flashed across visors.
"HOLD THE LINE!"
The Salamanders' bolters continued to roar, but the swarm was endless.
Zergling corpses piled high in front of the trenches, yet more came, trampling their own dead.
Roach acid cannons hammered any Titan armor lacking energy shields. Heavy ceramite plating was corroded into a patchwork of holes.
The number of casualties began climbing on visor HUDs.
One Salamander had his chest plate pierced by a lurker's limb. Blood spurted from the respirator slits of his shattered helmet.
"Kh—Die, alien filth!!"
TANG TANG TANG!
He roared, emptying his bolter into the creature's jaws until his magazine clicked dry.
Another warrior took a Mantis-Zerg acid round to the helmet. His mask melted. His face and scalp burned terribly—but he didn't fall. He swung his chainsword wildly, cleaving dozens of Zergling heads before finally collapsing.
And they would never let their corpses fall into enemy hands.
In their final moments, the fallen Salamanders activated their Titan armor's overload systems, disabling the fusion reactor's containment fields. Micro hydrogen bombs detonated within the swarm.
REEEEEW—BOOM—BOOMMMM—!!!
Blinding white light tore across the battlefield. Each miniature "sun" unleashed shockwaves that swept across dozens of meters. Zerglings, Roaches, Mantis-Zerg—all vaporized in the inferno. Even the creep was scorched into blackened husks.
The shockwaves whipped up dust storms. Blood and flesh rained like a storm.
Their sacrifice bought precious seconds for their brothers—but the battlefield continued to collapse.
More lurkers burst from the earth, cutting off retreat paths. Others lurked beneath the creep, waiting to ambush any Salamanders trying to retreat toward Mar Sara.
The creep's mucus drastically reduced the mobility of Titan armor. Every step felt like wading through sludge.
On the horizon, the Zerg tide kept coming—endless.
They had no way back.
The Salamanders surveyed the battlefield. Visor displays flickered with tactical analysis—"Breakout probability: 0.7%".
"Form up!"
The surviving warriors regrouped in silence, forming a final defensive circle, backs against each other.
Their bolter ammo was nearly gone. Chainsword teeth had chipped. Power axe energy fields flickered. Still, they gripped their weapons, staring down the tide.
Suddenly—
"For the Emperor!"
"For Humanity!!"
Their steel war cries thundered. The once-silent formation of Salamanders erupted in a deafening roar.
Though the lurker ambush had broken their line and claimed dozens of brothers, the remaining Salamanders burned with greater resolve.
Steam burst from their helmets. The climbing casualty count only fueled their fury.
They knew—every second they bought would save hundreds more at the starport—
The civilians huddled in shelters, the rebels with makeshift weapons, even the Terran soldiers who had laid down arms to join the fight.
That conviction made their bolters and plasma fire more accurate. Every round carried the will to protect.
SHWEEEW—BOOM! BOOM!
At that moment, more drop pods streaked into the battlefield, plasma trails flaring.
As they slammed down, they unfolded to reveal rows of ammo crates and energy cells. The Salamanders rearmed with practiced efficiency.
Simultaneously, a new message pinged at the top-right of their HUDs: "Support incoming. Brothers, prepare."
Rearmed, the Salamanders erupted with ferocious strength.
They formed a classic circular phalanx. Front-line warriors held guns and swords, tearing charging Zerglings into mulch.
Middle ranks poured bolter fire into Roaches.
Rear plasma gunners targeted elite Zerg or watched for more lurkers.
The entire formation was a finely tuned killing machine. Zerg corpses piled into a ringed barricade.
"Filthy alien scum!"
One Salamander roared, ramming his chainsword down a Zerg's throat, grinding it into paste.
"That all you've got?"
Another dodged an acid round and vaporized three Zerglings with his plasma pistol.
The battle fell into a bizarre stalemate.
A mere 200+ warriors had halted the swarm.
"Raaaaaah!"
"Skreeee!"
The Zerg—normally fearless and mindless—began showing hesitation. Some even retreated by instinct.
As this tense balance held—
BOOM!!!
The battlefield shook violently. Shockwaves rippled through the creep in waves.
A massive sandstorm rose from the northern horizon, as if a humanoid comet had slammed into the ground. The Salamanders' sensors all went haywire.
As the dust settled, a humanoid silhouette appeared.
Kneeling in the crater, cloaked in lingering plasma arcs.
As the smoke cleared, her true form emerged—
"Her" exoskeleton was a stunning deep violet. Despite its hardness, it outlined a nearly perfect feminine figure.
Her bone wings were not flight organs in the traditional sense—irregularly spiked, clearly levitating by some potent psychic force.
Most astonishing was her landing impact—it cratered the earth and cracked the ground in radial fissures. The sheer physical force exceeded most biological limits.
Her face was disturbingly beautiful.
Like a living sculpture, etched with organic markings. Her head had no hair, only dozens of dreadlock-like bone spines swaying with psionic pulses.
Her glowing yellow eyes flickered with fire from the abyss.
As her gaze swept the battlefield, every Salamander felt a chill pierce their soul.
[Zerg High-Tier Unit: The Queen of Blades—Sarah Kerrigan]
The ID overlay on their visors made every Salamander tense.
She was one of the top threats flagged by intel—possessing the apex of Zerg evolution and psychic power capable of warping reality.
No hesitation. The bolter array rotated. Plasma cannons began overcharging.
"FIRE! BLANKET HER!!"
In an instant, countless bolter rounds and searing plasma engulfed the Queen of Blades' position.
BOOM! BOOM!
Explosions tore the creep apart. Flames and smoke swallowed her form.
But as the smoke cleared, despair set in.
A pale blue psionic barrier encased her like an eggshell. Every attack faded into ripples on its surface.
The Queen of Blades slowly raised her right hand, crackling with psionic arcs.
CRACK—!
A blinding whip of psionic lightning lashed across the battlefield.
"Scatter!"
The Salamanders reacted fast, dodging swiftly—but some unlucky brothers were struck and chained together.
Armor capable of withstanding tank fire was pierced like paper. Shields popped instantly.
The hit warriors groaned, then collapsed. Life support inside their armor overloaded. Status lights turned blood-red.
!!
"For our fallen brothers—CHARGE!"
Over two hundred Salamanders roared in fury.
Chainswords revved. Power axes screamed. If ranged weapons failed, they would fight this monster the old-fashioned way.
The first wave fanned out, flanking.
Left squad drew her focus. Center prepared a frontal break. Right squad moved to encircle.
But perfect tactics meant nothing against absolute power.
With a wave of her hand, a psionic shockwave flung the central squad.
Bone wings extended, impaling the flankers trying to sneak behind.
As for the decoy team, they were skewered midair by psionic spikes erupting from the ground before they could get within ten meters.
The Queen then lifted a squad leader with her mind, choking him midair. She finally spoke—
Her voice was a chorus of Zerg screeches, laced with an eerie feminine tone:
"Stubborn ants… Your genes will become the next cornerstone of the Swarm's evolution."
(End of Chapter)
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