When the teleportation runes lit up on the surface of Helson III, the entire planet let out a wail that tore through the void.
The frozen continental plates twisted and deformed like a parchment scroll ravaged by gods under the tearing force of dimensional power.
Violet-purple Warp currents transformed into billions of hungry tendrils, coiling around this frozen world, which had been dormant for a thousand years on the edge of the galaxy, brutally ripping apart the veil of physical laws.
The Archmagos of the Adeptus Mechanicus's final binary prayer stamped a sacred seal on this death sentence that spanned across the star sea.
The frozen prison carrying billions of Orks, along with the colossal war beasts forged from madness, scrap metal, and WAAAGH energy, was hurled entirely towards the Necrons' throne world—Kiev Star.
The destinies of the two planets traced a brilliant trajectory of destruction across the dark canvas of the galaxy.
When Helson III tore through the barrier of the real universe, the frozen planet transformed into a spear thrown by gods, dragging a Warp tail flame that spanned half a galaxy, piercing towards the Necron Dynasty's eternal throne with the force of a falling star.
In the observation crystals of the orbital array, the light burst forth at the moment of impact, plunging the entire observation station into blinding panic.
Tens of thousands of Blackstone Obelisks on Kiev Star's surface simultaneously emitted a dying shriek, forming a defensive matrix strong enough to withstand a stellar explosion, yet it crumbled like a sandcastle upon contact.
When the two planets collided, the shockwave from the explosion hurled tens of thousands of square miles of tomb cities into the sky, and the Earth's core magma, under extreme compression, turned into a sky full of fiery rain, like a bloody fireworks display offered by the galaxy for this war.
When the chaotic energy storm subsided slightly, the truth that made all witnesses tremble finally appeared—beneath the shattered ice shell of Helson III, an Orc clan emblem large enough to cover all of Australia was revealed—the true identity of this frozen planet was actually an Orc Battle Moon!
As the planet's structure collapsed, the Orks legions, confined by the low temperatures, swept across the land like a broken dam.
Their frost-covered muscle fibers crackled in the air, and the white mist exhaled from their tusks was instantly ignited by their war cries.
The collision between the WAAAGH field and the Blackstone matrix tore apart the spatiotemporal structure, turning the entire battlefield into a nightmare painting interwoven with reality and illusion.
Some Necron Warriors' phase blades suddenly dissipated mid-slash, while some Orc war vehicles, during a charge, traveled back in time ten minutes.
In the vortex of the Warp Storm, the phantoms of ancient Warlords and Necron Pharoahs were re-enacting their fated duel from millions of years ago.
This green tide, born from fungal spores, swept across the Kiev Star continent with overwhelming force, billions of Orc Boyz let out deafening "WAAAGH!" war cries, their crude choppas striking the Necron Warriors' living metal bodies, emitting dazzling sparks.
The Meks' energy weapons, cobbled together from scrap metal, spewed unstable green arcs, blasting the Blackstone-constructed tomb defense nodes into a sky full of flying metal fragments.
When the Orcs' primitive WAAAGH field collided with the anti-psychic waves released by the Necron Obelisks, the entire battlefield instantly twisted and deformed.
The Warp Storm tore reality like a broken prism, gravity fields began to fluctuate chaotically, the air in some areas suddenly crystallized, while in others, anti-gravity floating islands appeared, defying physical laws.
Warriors caught in it sometimes floated like feathers, and sometimes were crushed into paste by a hundred times gravity.
An Orc Warlord, riding a mechanically modified Oklin Dragon, let out an earth-shattering roar; this iron beast, cobbled together from corpses and scrap metal, left burning footprints on the frozen ground with every step.
Behind him, dozens of Stompas of various forms advanced with ground-shaking steps; their crude armor plates were covered in bloody totems, and the ammunition sprayed from their back rocket pods left dense trails in the sky.
Wherever this steel tide passed, Necron outposts were crushed into dust like toys made of paper.
However, the Necron Overlord, seated within the tomb world, had long foreseen this invasion.
His glowing green metal finger tapped lightly on the control interface, and the "Eternal Orb" buried deep underground awakened.
The torrent of stellar fragments released by this ancient artifact swept across the battlefield like a divine whip, vaporizing tens of thousands of Orks war machines in pure white light, even their metal skeletons being decomposed into fundamental particles.
The shockwave from the explosion instantly vitrified tens of thousands of square miles of frozen ground, reflecting distorted Warp light and shadows.
On this surreal battlefield, the tug-of-war between the two sides had lasted for three full stellar cycles.
The Orc Warlords constantly cobbled together new war machines from scrap heaps, while Necron Technomancers activated temporal traps, banishing entire Orks assault teams into temporal rifts.
The tens of kilometers wide molten crater in the center of the battlefield had now become a chaotic vortex connecting different dimensions, with strange, kaleidoscope-like light flickering at its bottom, as if some mad deity was creating a crazy abstract masterpiece using the universe as a canvas.
—
Through the information transmitted back by the Imperial Navy's reconnaissance ships, sent at great risk, Alex and the high-ranking officials of the Expeditionary Force were able to glimpse the results of this insane operation.
A holographic projection unfolded in the center of the command hall, with shattered planetary debris slowly rotating in the void, and distorted gravitational waves and Warp rifts clearly visible.
"The Orc Battle Moon directly shattered the polar cap of the Necrons' throne world." A staff officer stood before the star map, his voice low and solemn: "Both planets suffered severe structural disintegration—the Orc Battle Moon shattered by a quarter, while the Necrons' throne world lost a fifth of its mass.
Even more terrifying, the energy generated by the collision disrupted local spacetime, with gravitational fields in disarray, spatial distortion, and even abnormal time flow.
Now, these two xenos races are fighting furiously on the shattered planetary debris, completely unable to spare any attention for the Imperium for the time being."
The command hall was silent, with only the low hum of servitor skulls and the whirring of cogitator engines echoing in the air.
"In my opinion, let these two xenos races fight each other like dogs!" The Navy Lord General slammed his hand on the table, producing a dull thud: "The Expeditionary Force can take this time to consolidate the conquered planets, reorganize the fleet, and then deal with the remaining one after they are both severely weakened!"
His voice carried a long-suppressed weariness and anger.
During this period, the Imperial Navy had borne almost all the direct pressure—from the initial orbital bombardment to the later fleet decisive battles, and finally to the planetary defense battles, every fierce battle caused the fleet's casualty numbers to continuously climb.
The Lord General's proposal quickly gained the approval of most Commanders.
Although the Expeditionary Force had successfully occupied several planets and expanded the Imperium's territory, the cost had been equally heavy.
The lengthening supply lines, troop losses, ship repair needs, and the soldiers' growing war-weariness all became problems facing the high-ranking officials of the Expeditionary Force.
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