TN: And we're back! sorry for the week long hiatus, it was not intentional since I had to get my right leg in a cast after tripping 3 floors down a stairwell (like an idiot ://) and be unable to use my PC setup upstairs BUT I should be OK now.
Anyways, Thanks for Arcanic Madness, WeissAkumu and WolfWTF for becoming as Supporters!,
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Emerging from the Hollow, Ignis immediately saw the broken ritual obelisk. It stood there like a solitary sentinel.
"Good thing I know a few tricks." Cerakos gave a whistle and raised a psychic veil, shrouding the three Space Marines. Otherwise, their conspicuous forms would have alerted the tower guards instantly.
The Public Security officers and the members of the Cunning Hares crouched low. According to plan, the Leviathan Dreadnought would breach the wall on the opposite side to create an entry point. It wasn't their moment to move yet.
"That wall looks fairly thick." Gotthardt's siege drill on his right arm spun at high speed. He looked almost delighted. "But compared to what we build? Not even close. And aside from the corner watchtower, there aren't even proper defensive emplacements. Sloppy."
"Uh… isn't that good news for the attackers?" Cerakos asked, puzzled by the old veteran's tone.
"Of course it is," Wrath of Terra shook his head. "It just makes the fight boring. Honestly, since coming here, few battles have stirred my blood. The enemies are too weak. Only that daemon that leapt out last time was mildly interesting. But Ignis smashed it before I got my turn."
Ignis said nothing. He knew this Slaanesh daemon was far more prepared than the one on Ryza. The old warrior would likely get his worthy fight.
"Repeat the objective," the Salamander murmured. "We draw attention. We dismantle defenses. If the Slaanesh daemon shows itself—eliminate it."
"And if it doesn't?" Cerakos unsheathed his power sword.
"Then we hunt it. We find the trail and pursue. It cannot be allowed to continue its corruption." Ignis tightened his grip on shield and thunder hammer. "Ready?"
"Hah. Just give the word, whelp." The Leviathan Dreadnought trembled with anticipation. Its weapons systems were primed, siege drill eager to tear down the barrier.
"Advance! In Vulkan's name!"
The Son of Vulkan roared and burst through the psychic veil.
The towering form and thunderous cry instantly drew the attention of the Slaanesh cultists atop the tower. Alarms shrieked into life.
Gunfire followed—laser weapons crackling as superheated air snapped at each discharge. Ignis ignored the low-powered beams. But soon he saw something heavier unfold atop the flanking towers.
With mechanical clatter, automated turrets emerged. Multi-barreled arrays began sweeping fire toward the Salamander. Unlike the smaller laser rifles, these carried serious punch. With rotary firing systems, their rate of fire was ferocious—laser streams mixed with rain in a lethal deluge.
Ignis had no intention of relying solely on ceramite to endure that barrage. Though his armor could withstand much of it, it would still suffer ablation. He activated his Iron Halo.
The refractor field shimmered to life. Dense beams struck it and veered away, guided aside as though by invisible hands.
He was about to draw his flamer in response when the turret to his left exploded.
The Leviathan Dreadnought.
Its quad lascannons roared, guided by veteran precision and formidable hardware. Even on the move, its aim was flawless. Within seconds, the turret was blasted skyward.
Moments later, the turret on the right fell silent. Cerakos' jump pack ignited, launching him high before he crashed down atop the emplacement. The impact alone crushed it into scrap.
The shockwave hurled surviving cultists within the tower to the floor. Before they could rise, the Son of Sanguinius began the slaughter. Power sword and lightning claws flashed blue in the rain. Blood sprayed. Death descended.
Once the tower was cleared, the ground shuddered beneath Cerakos' feet. He glanced toward the wall. The Leviathan's siege drill smashed into it, triple bits rotating, biting deep.
"Stronger than it looks," Gotthardt commented as sparks flew. "Or perhaps their materials don't measure up."
The outer concrete gave way quickly. Beneath it lay reinforced metal plating. The drill slowed, shrieking as friction heated the steel to molten glow. At last, the barrier failed.
With a surge of power, the Dreadnought smashed through, tearing open a breach. One titanic kick finished the job.
On the other side—
A mass of waiting Slaanesh cultists.
From the main building rooftop, automated cannons opened fire on the Leviathan. The heavy war machine barely acknowledged the assault. Gotthardt returned fire, though it took several seconds to silence both turrets.
Muzzle flashes flickered from the windows. Small-caliber weapons fired in volleys. Rockets streaked through the rain.
The Leviathan began to return direct fire—but hesitated. There were children inside. Instead, it raised shields and redirected its guns.
A short burst struck the rear wall of the building. After the explosions faded, a breach remained.
Then they poured out.
Cultists—security staff, gang members, ordinary civilians twisted by corruption—emerged in waves, wreathed in pink-violet mist heavy with intoxicating perfume.
They wore grotesque adornments: metal rings hammered into flesh, hooked piercings, glittering ornaments, cheap gems. Most had lost all reason. They drooled and babbled incoherently, brandishing crude weapons as they charged.
The rain intensified. Darkness thickened.
The Leviathan's searchlights cut through the gloom. Where raindrops struck cultist flesh, steam rose. They were scarcely human anymore.
To buy time for the officers—and to purge these servants swiftly—Ignis smashed through barbed wire and roared:
"In Vulkan's name!"
"For Terra!" the Leviathan's guns locked on.
"For those we cherish, we embrace glorious death!" Cerakos descended from the storm.
Fanatical cultists rushed Ignis. The Salamander no longer restrained his fury. His massive shield slammed forward, hurling the first attacker backward in shattered ruin. The impact knocked down others behind him.
The gap filled instantly.
Mad with corruption, they felt no fear. Smiling ecstatically, they stabbed at the armor joints with knives and jagged blades.
The thunder hammer roared. Each swing detonated like a lightning strike. Blood and limbs flew. A full-force blow could destroy a tank—but those sprayed with gore pressed on undeterred.
Ignis fought at full strength. Their bodies were fragile. One strike reduced them to red mist. Yet they felt no fear. They threw themselves at him, crushed under hammer or flattened by shield.
They kept coming.
After another shield bash, Ignis drove the shield into the ground as cover and swept the crowd with his flamer.
Specialized ether fuel ignited flesh instantly. Even engulfed in fire, the cultists staggered forward, desperate to close the final step before collapsing into charred husks.
Unlike Nurgle's gifts, Slaanesh granted frenzy—not resilience. The burning wall finally granted Ignis a breath.
Cerakos' lightning claws carved bright arcs in the rain, cleaving foes in segments. Blood mixed with water, streaking across his yellow armor.
With his jump pack, he avoided encirclement—leaping skyward, crashing down with crushing force, tearing through ranks before lifting off again.
The scent of blood grew overpowering—far too strong for rain to dilute.
His pulse quickened. Something within his gene-seed stirred. His strikes grew savage. Blood on his claws made him swallow unconsciously.
He felt dizzy. Exhilarated.
He wanted to drink it.
To taste the blood of these mortals.
He almost removed his helmet.
Then—
A chill ran down his spine. The frenzy vanished. Pink-violet vapors dissipated around him.
The cultists surged again.
Cerakos rejoined the slaughter—this time clear-minded. The blood no longer tempted him. He realized how close he had come to Slaanesh's snare. Had he removed his helm… who knew what he might have become?
He focused fully on battle.
Gotthardt faced the greatest constraint. His massive frame had limited maneuvering room, and his heavy weapons could not fire freely. The hostages within stayed his hand.
Rocket impacts blossomed across his shields. Though harmless, the one-sided barrage enraged him. A single sustained volley could level the entire structure—but the children would perish too.
So, he vented fury elsewhere.
Five meters tall, dozens of tons of adamantium and ceramite—he crushed cultists underfoot. The siege drill whirled, reducing bodies to pulp. Unable to fire freely, he wielded his quad-barrel assembly as a bludgeon. Any mortal struck was shattered utterly.
The three Space Marines held the courtyard, drawing cultists outward. Their already-fractured minds operated on savage instinct—enemy present, kill.
Between swings, Ignis saw movement beyond the breach.
Zhu Yuan led the officers through the opening Gotthardt had created. The cultists paid them no notice. Once certain none exited the main building, the officers surged inside.
Seth Lowell commanded a squad and security automatons to barricade the entrance.
Using the terrain, they reversed the lock—sealing the building from within.
Other teams began clearing floor by floor, eliminating the remaining Slaanesh cultists inside.
===BREAK===
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