Alex pointed at the female Psyker on the ground, the one Sister Sidera had initially singled out, and sternly warned all loyal Imperial citizens who had not yet been infected: "Those Genestealers grow and strengthen in the shadows, directing their 'families' to infiltrate every corner of the army, government, and factories!
Their 'exemplary' behavior is merely to accumulate strength, waiting for the opportune moment to launch a rebellion, paralyze the planet's defenses, and then…"
Alex's voice deepened, yet it filled all the loyal Imperial citizens present with a chilling sense of despair: "Then, when the Hive Fleet descends, these brainwashed wretches will joyfully welcome their 'Star Kin,' dreaming of integrating into the happy big family.
But what awaits them is only the fate of being torn apart and digested! They are merely kitchen utensils for the swarm to prepare a buffet!"
"Ovilia!" Alex turned to the Mechanical Sage: "Lock onto all anomalous biological signals, especially the points of highest psychic intensity! Sister Sidera! Your Void Power is key to tearing apart their psychic network!
Sisters of Battle! Form a purification squad with Sister Sister Sidera as the core! Objective: all marked biological anomaly targets! Leave no survivors!"
"For the Emperor!" The Sisters of Battle responded in unison, the click of Bolters loading crisp and cold.
"Armed Guard!" Alex looked at the soldiers who, though fearful, still held their positions: "Your loyalty has been proven! Now, follow the Sisters and cleanse the corruption among you and in the city!
Remember: anyone attempting to surrender, argue, or showing abnormal fanaticism will be killed without mercy!
Better to kill by mistake than to let one escape! Your wives, children, and elders might be among those corrupted people; think about what you are saving!"
With the command given, a torrent of steel began to crush the conspiracy of flesh and blood.
Sister Sidera acted like the most precise psychic radar; wherever her Void Power reached, the cunning disguises melted away like ice under the sun.
The Battle Sisters' Bolters and flamers transformed into the most merciless purifying flames, utterly eradicating the exposed xenos and those beyond salvation due to deep infection.
The Armed Guard gritted their teeth, tears in their eyes, pointing their guns at former comrades, neighbors, and perhaps even relatives—those whose skin showed a grayish-purple hue under the Void Field.
The city turned into hell.
Piercing alarms had long been replaced by a more primal din—the shriek of Bolters tearing through the air, the sizzle of Lasguns scorching flesh, the screams of the dying, the inhuman howls of xenos, and the booming groan of buildings collapsing in explosions.
Intense gunfire echoed wildly through Murmansk's sturdy, militarized streets, like countless hammers pounding every corner of this steel fortress.
The wide, neatly planned streets, originally designed for heavy vehicle traffic, had now become a bloody slaughterhouse and a brutal defensive position.
The threat hidden deep within the city's veins finally erupted.
From rusted sewer grates, from secret passages connected to ancient Necron Tombs, a tide of grotesque figures surged out, roaring.
They were the ugliest offspring of the Genestealer cult—second and third-generation hybrids.
They were hunched, covered in rough chitinous carapaces, their knuckles mutated into terrifying bone claws, their eyes gleaming with primal ferocity and the madness driven by the Hive Mind.
Among them were a few more agile and swift pureblood Genestealers, exuding the aura of pure predators; they were the cult's fangs and blades.
Wielding metal pipes scavenged from ruins, crude bone blades, or even bare-handed, these monsters howled and lunged at the Imperial Army's hastily constructed defenses.
Their numbers were astonishing, like a swarm of insects crawling out of a hellish crack, attempting to overwhelm steel and fire with their flesh and blood.
"Open fire! Free fire! Don't let them get close!" The sergeants' hoarse shouts echoed through the comms channel.
Bolters traced lethal trajectories through the air, exploding into clouds of blood and carapace fragments upon impact; searing Lasgun beams delivered precise bursts, instantly vaporizing the heads or torsos of the xenos charging forward; the rapid-fire cannons of automated turrets unleashed a dense hail of bullets, like invisible scythes, mowing down swathes of lower-tier Genestealers.
The xeno charge, exposed in open terrain and lacking heavy armor, was like a surging wave crashing against an indestructible reef in the face of the Imperial Army's formidable firepower.
The fragile bodies of the second and third-generation Genestealers shattered and fell in the metal storm, blue-purple blood and broken limbs covering the cold alloy ground.
The charging tide, upon hitting the steel dam, instantly turned into futile spray, utterly annihilated.
However, the few pureblood Genestealers mixed within the tide posed a different level of threat.
They weaved through the barrage like phantoms, their astonishing speed and predictive abilities allowing them to narrowly evade fatal incoming fire.
Their chitinous exoskeletons were exceptionally hard; ordinary Lasgun hits only left scorched marks, and even Bolters, unless directly hitting a vital point or joint, struggled to immediately incapacitate them.
"Watch out for those monsters! Ceramite won't stop their claws!" An experienced retired Astra Militarum veteran roared from behind cover.
He had witnessed a pureblood charge like a phantom towards a Chimera APC, tearing through the vehicle's body with its sharp claws; the sturdy ceramite armor plates were ripped open, leaving a huge gash!
The guards inside didn't even have time to react before the extending claws instantly claimed their lives.
At this moment, Murmansk's foundation as a military fortress played a crucial role.
Automated turrets throughout the city provided continuous suppressing fire; thick alloy barricades and pre-established defensive fortifications offered sturdy cover for the troops; hidden artillery pieces roared at critical moments, blasting purebloods attempting to gather or assault key nodes into fragments with high-explosive or armor-piercing rounds.
The city's grid layout, though initially for military transit, now restricted the xenos' large-scale charges, forcing them into pre-set firing zones.
More crucially, it was the people—the city had a large number of retired Astra Militarum soldiers.
These seasoned veterans might not have the physical strength of their younger days, but their ingrained combat instincts, obedience to orders, and battlefield acumen honed through countless bloody battles were invaluable assets.
They would not collapse like new recruits in the face of the purebloods' terror; instead, they could quickly find cover, organize effective crossfire, and precisely eliminate the most dangerous targets.
They knew how to utilize terrain and how to seal off narrow passages with flamethrowers.
Without these experienced veterans as the backbone, relying solely on a few Sisters of Battle and a portion of uncorrupted guards, conducting such brutal urban warfare and cleansing in this deeply infiltrated city would have been an almost impossible task.
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