Within the boundless pitch-black void, a steel behemoth as vast as a mountain emerged from a swirling, iridescent warp aperture.
Its prow was covered in sharp, heavy ram armor. Along its flanks protruded massive, hollow gun barrels. Rail fortress cannons, electromagnetic cannons, macro cannons, lance turrets, and torpedo launch tubes lined the deck—this was unquestionably a warship.
Though one might wonder why its bridge was constructed like a towering palace, adorned lavishly with gold and silver ornaments—so ostentatious and seemingly impractical—no armed merchant vessel would ever be qualified to mount such formidable armaments.
Atop the bridge, the golden double-headed Imperial Aquila relief spread its wings and talons proudly and arrogantly, lifelike and domineering. Even the dim void could not conceal its radiant brilliance.
The entire warship resembled a blade drawn from its sheath. From the sharp prow to the main bridge structure, angular, hardened lines broadened outward, and the enormous double-headed Aquila relief was the most resplendent embellishment upon its crossguard.
On the thickest rear section of the hull, engraved upon the colossal armor plates on both sides, was the emblem of two iron fists crossed like hydraulic presses—declaring its allegiance: the Astartes Second Legion Retributors.
Any logistics officer familiar with the naval battle order of the Holy Selene Empire would recognize it at a glance. This was a Lunar-class cruiser specialized for lightweight, high-mobility operations.
Hull: Lightweight Specialized Cruiser
Class: Mobility-Specialized Lunar-class Cruiser
Length: Approximately 5 kilometers; ventral fin width 0.8 kilometers
Mass: Approximately 28 million tons
Crew: Approximately 95,000 personnel
Acceleration: Maximum sustained acceleration of 3.2G
A cruiser specialized not for conventional naval artillery duels. It did not emphasize firepower, armor, or troop deployment capacity. Though it bore the appearance of a cruiser, compared to standard Imperial Navy cruisers in active service, its volume was far smaller.
Produced exclusively by a forge world, it was designed to accommodate reconnaissance units, the Imperial Assassination Unit, and other special forces requiring small-scale rapid maneuver and transfer operations. It represented the largest class of professional specialized vessel currently fielded by such units.
A five-kilometer-long "small ship" typically served as a forward command base and temporary resupply platform for reconnaissance and assassination units within a given theater.
Beep—beep—
Dim lighting illuminated the spacious bridge hall. Elite officers of the Imperial Navy stood silently at their respective stations.
They busied themselves before various holographic projection consoles, manipulating the colossal beast beneath their feet through countless holo-screens, monitoring systems, measurement arrays, and control panels.
On the raised command platform several steps above the main hall, a tall gray-armored giant stood with his hands clasped behind his back. Through the observation dome composed of arched window frames and massive armored glass, he gazed at the sandy-yellow planet below.
"Report. Traces of human civilization detected in Universe No. 117."
An Imperial Navy officer wearing a dark navy uniform, a lightweight chainsword and laser pistol strapped at his waist, carefully examined the holographic projection of Madrigal on his console. A hint of delight appeared on his face beneath the chin strap of his peaked cap as he spoke loudly.
"Humans—not xenos filth? Confirmed?" The giant turned around, his voice deep and imposing.
His features were resolute. A shallow scar ran across the bridge of his nose. His head was shaved clean, leaving only thick, neatly trimmed sideburns and a full beard.
"Yes, sir. Numerous human settlements have been detected on the planet's surface. However, it is rather peculiar—each settlement is small, roughly one square kilometer in area. There are no large-scale metropolitan centers. Their infrastructure level does not match that of an interstellar civilization. Each settlement appears to exist in reliance upon drilling platforms."
The naval officer continued his report.
"Based on currently gathered data, this planet has not undergone large-scale environmental transformation or resource exploitation by human civilization. The population is limited. It is likely merely a resource supply world..."
"Sir. Situation update." An operator at one of the consoles suddenly reported loudly. "In the northern hemisphere, within an oasis forest region, multiple energy weapon signatures detected. Calculating..."
The operator enlarged the monitored coordinates on the central display. "34 degrees north latitude, 125 degrees east longitude."
As the image zoomed in and sharpened, within a crude circular drilling station, blue electrical explosions flashed brightly into the eyes of everyone in the bridge hall.
"Plasma weapons," the gray-armored giant stated.
The operator promptly continued, "Sir, xenos filth are attacking a human settlement... Wait. New development. It is the military force of the human civilization in Universe No. 117... Sir, suspected official human forces have intervened."
"Oh? Then it holds some value. Worth a battle..." The gray-armored giant grinned. "The lads are about to rust sitting on this ship. Time to loosen their bones."
"Issue the order. I want prisoners. Capture a few xenos tongues alive. Once dead, the effect of Mindseer diminishes. As for the official forces and civilians—let the boys decide how to handle them."
"Yes, sir!"
...
Clunk... clunk... clunk...
Heavy footsteps echoed as dozens of Astartes warriors clad in thick power armor strode through the long corridors of the warship, arriving at the teleportation hall deck to make urgent preparations. Beneath their helmets, every expression burned with excitement.
Though their armor bore different paint schemes, insignias, and decorative styles, the emblem upon their breastplates was unified—the finely engraved Imperial double-headed Aquila. Only mighty Astartes warriors were permitted to bear that glorious mark.
Ordinarily, a standard Imperial Navy vessel would be equipped with facilities such as a trans-spatial teleportation hall, drop pod launch bays, and internal hangar decks for boarding actions and planetary assaults.
However, as the flagship of a reconnaissance force composed of elite Legion warriors, though small in scale, it possessed every essential function—and in equal specifications, even more extravagantly so.
The simple and cost-effective drop pod launch bays had been entirely removed. In their place, a far greater proportion of high-energy trans-spatial teleportation arrays had been installed.
For example, aboard this mobility-specialized Lunar-class cruiser, the several hundred Astartes warriors onboard were fully covered by teleportation capability. An entire squadron of Astartes could be deployed at once and recalled at any time.
A scaled-down hangar deck was retained to house certain vehicles for unforeseen circumstances.
"Xenos filth—your granddaddy's here."
"Hahaha! My chain-axe's been thirsty for ages."
"Go carve them up."
Some gently stroked the serrated teeth of their chain-axes. Others loaded heavy bolters, racking them with metallic clacks. Still others inserted Honkai energy cells into their plasma pistols. Several giants from the Twelfth Legion World Eaters spoke with bloodthirsty anticipation.
On a warship, even with training cages and gladiatorial pits to pass the time, it was far too dull for veterans like them. Real blades and real guns—that was what truly stirred the blood.
"Salute."
The tallest of them finished his preparations and dropped to one knee, speaking curtly.
He wore a master-crafted suit of deep azure power armor. Blood-red bat-winged circular ornaments adorned his power pack. Skulls and lightning sigils were engraved upon his waist plates. The double-headed Aquila of Selene was emblazoned upon his chest. Blue arcs of electricity crackled along the massive lightning claws extending from his gauntlets.
Inside the teleportation chamber, under the command of a Night Lords officer, all Astartes knelt in perfect unison toward the glazed wall before them.
The wall's background was iron-gray. At its center was a white-haired woman, head slightly tilted, eyes closed, dressed in pure white robes trimmed with golden patterns. She held a scepter and a halberd.
A vast golden halo encircled her head. Countless golden lines radiated outward from her form, like an eternal sun casting divine brilliance upon the mortal world.
"I, of the Eighth Legion Night Lords, Thirty-Seventh Company..."
"I, of the Second Legion Retributors, Seventh Company..."
"I, of the Twelfth Legion World Eaters, Twenty-Third Company..."
...
"Illuminate the Empress' will—obliterate all fiends!"
"Our blades shall cleave the enemies of the Empress! Loyalty and glory forever as one!! For Selene—!!"
With that thunderous war cry shaking the chamber, violet-crimson teleportation light flared instantly...
...
Rumble—
From a distance, as the Covenant assault intensified, the return fire of human ballistic weapons within the circular wall surrounding the tower grew weaker and weaker—so powerless.
Flesh piled up. Shrapnel tore through the air.
Boom—crash!
A massive plasma orb blasted a gaping breach into the circular wall. Human remains and molten metal spilled from the rupture, forming an orange-red "stream."
To ordinary humans, Sangheili plasma weapons meant maiming at a graze and death at a touch.
Bang!
"Dad!" Kwan Ha screamed as the pickup truck mounted with an M134 rotary machine gun—where her father had been—was blasted skyward and engulfed in flames.
Momentarily stunned, she failed to notice her footing slip. She pitched forward and fell hard to the ground.
Ignoring the pain, she struggled to push herself up—only to feel something soft, warm, and sticky beneath her palm.
"Professor!"
Her pupils contracted sharply. Her hands were soaked in blood. The old white man who had been laughing just minutes ago was now nothing more than a heap of viscera and shredded flesh. His severed head lay beside her, eyes dulled and lifeless—staring straight at her.
"Ah! Aahhh!"
Any normal person would have broken down at such a sight. Kwan Ha scrambled backward on trembling legs, shrieking in terror—and that naturally drew the hunters' attention.
"Roar!"
"Move."
A gust of force struck. Kwan Ha felt a splash of "hot water" across her face. Opening her eyes, she saw a blue-armored alien with a gaping hole blasted through its chest. Blood frothed from its four-part mandibles before it collapsed beside her.
"Hide."
A deep male voice echoed from within the heavy dark-green armor. In one hand he held a captured Covenant plasma pistol. In the other, an MA5 rifle.
"Roar! Ao—!" The Demon—attack!
Before she could speak, immense force shoved her down. Her face was pressed brutally against the dirt. Several plasma bolts streaked overhead. She could clearly feel the scorching heat passing inches above the back of her skull.
"Roar! Ao-ao!" Ignore the civilians! Kill him first!
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Hurling the civilian aside toward a slope, the Master Chief absorbed several shots with his energy shield. Amid warning alarms blaring within his Mjolnir armor, he rolled swiftly into cover, firing back as he moved.
"Silver Team, report status."
"Clearing the north sector. Heavy resistance. Requesting reinforcement."
"Sangheili Elites in the west sector. Enemy count thirty-four... thirty-five... thirty-nine... forty-five. Reinforcements required."
"I need support! South sector—red-armored Elite commander sighted!"
"All units converge on the south sector. Regroup and engage collectively," the Master Chief ordered after assessing the reports.
Pew! Tat-tat-tat!
One plasma shot stripped an Elite's shield. A controlled three-round burst of ballistic fire finished the kill. Seizing the opening, the Master Chief sprinted toward the south.
Why are there so many Elites on Madrigal...? No Grunts. No Jackals. All Sangheili warriors—and in such numbers. What is the Covenant planning...?
South sector.
"Roar! Ao-ao!" The Demon has appeared. The Jiralhanae lost the sacred relic because of human interference. Fortunately, our kind reinforced this operation.
"Ao—!" Eliminate them quickly, then withdraw. This is human territory. Their reinforcements are likely en route. Protecting the relic is paramount.
The red-armored Elite commander raised his hand and issued the order.
Bang bang bang!
More than a dozen Elites formed a circle, roaring as they unleashed relentless plasma fire at the cover behind which Spartan-125 was pinned. Dust and shattered stone sprayed everywhere.
"I need backup..." The sniper Spartan-125 found his role useless under overwhelming enemy numbers. His cover had already been eroded by more than half.
"Hold on, 125. I'm almost there..." The Master Chief's voice crackled through the comm channel—then was abruptly cut off by an explosion. It was clear the Elite numbers had exceeded expectations. The Master Chief was being delayed.
"Intelligence was wrong..."
Originally, Blue Team's mission had simply been to escort Jin Ha to a "safe" location and ensure Madrigal continued supplying materials to the United Nations Space Command.
Even with Covenant or insurgent interference, with the Master Chief present, small-scale hostile forces would have been trivial.
Yet a mere drilling station harbored over a hundred Covenant Elites—including brown-armored warriors and even a red-armored commander.
What was with so many Elites clustering here?
Based on UNSC combat experience, the appearance of so many Elites usually meant large numbers of Grunts and Jackals operating alongside them—a precursor to a major Covenant offensive.
"Transmit combat data to the Doctor. Hah... even if I die, I'll take a few with me." Spartan-125 exhaled deeply, bracing his heavy sniper rifle. Click. He chambered a round.
At that moment—
A thunderous boom split the sky. Violet-crimson arcs of electricity flashed.
Hummmmm—