Day 297, Year 986, 41st Millennium
Upper Nest
Front Line
If Eric remembered correctly, today was the third day of the battle. Third day already, and everything remained the same. Heavy clashes occurred occasionally, escalating as they advanced further into enemy territory. Now, every time they breached an enemy camp, at least four or five soldiers died, mostly from his own platoon. He didn't even know when it would be his turn to die.
It was awful.
Especially now, with those hideous and inhumane creatures—mutants, of course—and some of the aliens he'd seen escaping from the upper nest. Some were even capable of tearing tanks to shreds.
Eric sighed softly as he walked down the road with the other soldiers, the tank leading the way. He glanced cautiously at the buildings to his left and right, wary of potential ambushes. His grip on his laser gun tightened. He felt strangely uncomfortable from not having showered for three days. He'd fought, his uniform was stained with blood, and he was covered in it all over. He also felt increasingly exhausted.
Three days of continuous fighting, wearing armor and carrying heavy loads in his backpack almost constantly, had left him feeling fatigued and worn out more easily. He tried to find opportunities to sit down and rest or take off his backpack whenever possible.
However, surviving for so long had made him less tolerant of the sight of brutally mutilated corpses, and he was beginning to feel less depressed and traumatized, even though he was more cautious.
Whatever.
Eric glanced left and right again as he walked, checking the ground for landmines like the ones he stepped on that killed several soldiers that day. Besides, they also had to watch out for those four-armed aliens. They were much larger than normal humans and could hide anywhere. They could jump from multi-story buildings and attack humans without injury. Regular guns couldn't kill them; you had to spray them constantly. They were terrifying. Even he, a fairly skilled marksman, found it difficult to kill them unless he shot them in the eye, which was still challenging.
Meanwhile, he glanced at the four or so surviving Korvax family soldiers out of a dozen or so. From what he'd seen on the battlefield, they were quite skilled in close-quarters combat, exceptionally accurate marksmen, and possessed quick decision-making abilities. He was also somewhat enviable, wearing high-quality armor capable of easily withstanding lassgun, assault rifle, or autogun attacks—it was likely very expensive armor.
But never mind that. In his opinion, the interesting thing about them was that they served the Korvax family, the ruling family of this area. However, rumors and accounts from other soldiers described them as extremely cruel, and their ruler as tyrannical.
But Eric wasn't very interested in that. What interested him more was the current situation. The fighting was raging, and the PDF forces were advancing further into the territory. This was a good sign, meaning they were on the verge of victory, and the war might end sooner than he thought… He hoped it would end quickly so he could return to a normal life and find a job.
But another part of him wondered what if it wasn't over yet. There was a high probability the war wouldn't end so easily. Because the goal of this battle was simply to capture or destroy the giant elevator, their main supply line from the bottom to the top.
Perhaps he would be fighting a long war, like World War I and World War II. But how could he survive such a long battle?
_Don't think like that, Eric. It'll just stress you out,_ he tried to tell himself.
Suddenly, his eyes fell on the building in front and the rubble piled on the street. To others, or to some, it might just be ordinary wreckage, but to him, it felt abnormal.
Eric focused on the rubble in front of the warehouse, analyzing and trying to find something unusual. But before he could think or look any further, a piece of concrete and steel broke off, revealing a heavy machine gun aimed at his group of soldiers, and Eric was one of them.
"Get down now!!!!" Lieutenant Rocklin shouted before quickly dropping to the ground, covered in rubble—concrete fragments, steel shards, and dried blood. Eric quickly jumped out of the way and ducked to the ground before the lieutenant could even finish his sentence. Other soldiers did the same, but many didn't manage to land in time and were killed by the heavy machine gun fire. Their armor was practically useless, and the condition of their corpses was horrifying.
Eric looked at the many mutilated bodies. Some had been shot in the shoulder, their arms severed and ribs exposed. Others had been shot in the abdomen, leaving gaping wounds and internal organs spilling out. Some had severed legs or other body parts. He tried to compose himself and ignore the sight before raising his lassgun, aiming at the heavy machine gun, and pulling the trigger.
Pew!
A red beam of light struck the head of one of the mutants, instantly exploding it, and the machine gun ceased firing. Another mutant tried to replace the dead but was hit by cannon fire from the Leman Russ tank, scattering its remains.
Eric sighed heavily. His exhaustion had vanished, replaced by a surge of adrenaline. His anxiety and paranoia grew. Eric meticulously scanned the building, front, top, and back, before quickly getting up. Lieutenant Rocklin also stood up, shouting orders for everyone to search for useful and necessary items from the bodies of their fallen comrades and then quickly continue their journey.
The surviving soldiers immediately began searching the bodies of their recently deceased comrades. Eric was one of them. Although they had ammunition and explosives delivered by the Chimira armored vehicles, lately these vehicles had been attacked by mutants, causing delays or even preventing deliveries. Therefore, they had to use everything they had, even from the corpses.
Eric rose from the ground and brushed the dust off his blood-stained clothes, trying to prevent them from getting any dirtier. He wasn't exactly a clean freak... but compared to the people here, he was probably the cleanest.
"That was close," Eric muttered to himself, thinking about the possibility of being the center of attention. His figure was clearly visible, and he instinctively stretched his arms slightly to relax.
Snap!
Eric's eyes widened slightly. He felt a sharp pain in his right shoulder, similar to the initial tearing sensation during a massage. He had never felt anything like it before. It was just an external sensation, like nothing was supporting him. He wanted to explore what it felt like.
Eric checked. One of his bra straps had snapped. It might have been bunched up at the point of breakage, causing discomfort. Before he knew it, he froze.
"It must have just been a feeling?" he thought to himself, turning and reaching his left hand into the gap between his bra and his right armpit. He reached his right chest and found that the bra strap had indeed snapped.
Eric pulled his hand away, realizing he was touching his chest. He looked worried and embarrassed, but most people couldn't see his face because he was wearing a veil.
"Damn it," Eric murmured softly, swallowing hard. He gripped his right elbow tightly, overwhelmed by the shocking situation, a mixture of nervousness and unconscious control.
Sometimes, that tightness in his chest while walking, or the lack of normal fat accumulation… It made him feel visibly naked.
Eric closed his eyes.
The image on his left showed numerous soldiers, their strength derived from the corpses of the dead. He ignored his demeanor completely. Now, he was filled with intense anxiety and uncertainty, struggling to control himself.
_It's alright._ He would try to compose himself.
Let everything flow slowly. Harvesting from the numerous corpses and previous surveys was just one way to regain control. He would slowly find a suitable position, then switch to the bandage on his chest. He didn't feel anything special now. He confidently repeated, "Whatever, what else is there to worry about today?"
But sometimes, he would persevere. Lieutenant Rocklin continued to lead, while Eric comfortably positioned himself in the center to control the situation. Being at the front risked being the first to be attacked, serving as a warning signal. Being at the very back might allow him permission to reach the safest central research facility.
But suddenly,
Lieutenant Rocklin's booming command rang out. Powerful bolster shells, recently fired, rapidly shattered the enemy line. Lieutenant Rocklin's soldiers were under attack again from that direction.
"Watch out!" The warning pierced the chaos. All the fortifications hastily regrouped or sought cover, rushing towards Eric. It almost made him fall.
"Damn it!!" Eric cursed inwardly, wondering why they ran without checking if there was anyone in front of them. He raised his laser gun to warn the mutants and prepared to fire, but a figure appeared behind Eric, causing him to turn back and reassess the situation.
"Ugh!!!" He felt excruciating pain. Something slammed into his chest armor, sending him staggering backward. The pain in his chest was unbearable; the hard, rigid metal chestplate had been violently crushed against the soft, sensitive flesh, like a hammer striking his delicate tissue.
Eric gritted his teeth, tears welling up slightly from the pain. In that split second, he saw his attacker.
The enemy resembled a human in almost every way, except for its bald head with scattered light purple scales on its forehead. It was a mutant, a Neophyte Hybrid, and in its hand, it held a pipe pulled from the wall.
Eric quickly aimed his gun, firing at its head. However, the mutant used its other hand to grab his lassgun and deflect the shot. The red laser beam, intended for its head, instead hit the pipe in its hand, causing it to fall. He struggled to pull the lassgun from its grasp.
"Get your hands off my gun!" Eric snarled, trying to pull his weapon back. But the opponent's strength was almost indistinguishable from that of a heavily trained man – a Genestealer Hybrid. Simply pulling the gun toward itself, the attacker easily snatched it from Eric, who would then throw it away.
Damn it! Eric thought to himself, trying to draw his chain sword, but it was too late. He quickly dodged a punch from the mutant. Was he forced to fight in close combat?!
He tried to escape, but there was no way to get past the mutant; he had to run through it. And now, no one was there to help him because everyone else was fighting fiercely.
He hated close-quarters combat. Eric was practically hopeless at it. He had no skill in it, and his strength was lacking. But there was no other choice. Eric, his face tense, glared at his opponent, who was grinning smugly at their enemy. A moment later, the attack came again. Eric quickly used his arm armor to block the blow. The heavy blow made his arm tremble slightly, but it also left him with a small opening.
The attack continued, but this time Eric dodged. Eric landed an elbow strike to the side of its ribs, giving it a slight advantage before it swung its arm at the side of his helmet, sending him staggering in the direction of the blow and nearly knocking his helmet off.
It attacked again, this time with a punch aimed at Eric's face, but he dodged, the punch hitting his chest armor instead. While this chest armor could protect against small bullets and shrapnel, it could also withstand some melee weapons, but not the kind that rammed into the target. The punch slammed into the left side of his chest armor, the impact causing him pain and making him stagger slightly. In this moment of disorientation, unable to dodge or attack,
Thud!
Eric was hit by a heavy punch to the face, almost knocking him over. His bag fell out, his glasses flew off, and his helmet nearly came off. He tasted blood and felt immense pain before quickly regaining his balance and dodging another punch. Now panicked, Eric punched the creature in the face, but it seemed to have little effect. Seeing this, Eric's face immediately turned pale. The creature was stronger than he had imagined.
Eric reached for his bayonet, instead of his chain sword, knowing he wouldn't have time to activate it. He lunged forward, aiming to stab the mutant in the face, but the creature easily grabbed his wrist. Eric was stunned and worried by what had happened. The mutant looked at him with mockery before shaking its head slightly.
"You weakling, worshipper of the false emperor... Now the angel is coming, and the four-armed emperor is being reborn... Why would you give up your resistance? Join us and fight for freedom!" It tried to entice Eric, but he didn't listen. He desperately struggled to free himself from its grip. Seeing this, it looked away in disappointment before twisting its hand.
"Agh!!!" Eric cried out in pain. His body turned in the same direction its arm was twisted. The bayonet fell from his hand. He tried to kick its leg, but was met with a heavy punch to the stomach.
Thump!
Eric was too breathless to speak or cry out in pain. Tears streamed down his face as the fist landed on his lower abdomen. His back arched backward. It released its grip, leaving Eric, barely able to stand, standing there with a mocking expression, as if he were an unworthy opponent.
Eric, barely able to breathe, slowly slumped to the ground, clutching his stomach with both hands before curling up and struggling to take deep breaths. He was in excruciating pain; everything felt like a ache. He couldn't breathe properly, his body was immobile. He was in agonizing agony. While he was suffering, the mutant simply stood there, arms crossed, sneering at him.
"Weak...useless. I think you'd make a great test subject," it said with a sadistic, psychopathic smile. Eric's eyes widened in terror. No one could help him now, and he knew that if anyone looked at him like that, he would be subjected to the same treatment. He was about to be kidnapped for experimentation!
"Afraid, are you? What can you do in this state?" it taunted, kicking the chain sword away from Eric. Eric, struggling to move, could only try to breathe deeply and endure the pain... He wouldn't die like this... He wouldn't die at the hands of this mutant until he achieved his goal... But now he couldn't do anything! Damn it!!!
"You're a pathetic creature..." This time, the voice was laced with contempt. Eric wouldn't tolerate its arrogant words any longer. It dared to call him a pathetic creature! His hands, now able to move, grasped a chunk of concrete and gripped it tightly. He would smash this guy's head to pieces! The creature lowered itself beside him, one hand gripping his neck and trying to lift him up.
Eric, now breathless and unable to breathe, struggled desperately. His plan was failing. He used both hands to pry the creature's hand off his neck, the rock slipping from its grasp. He merely chuckled at the sight before looking away, towards where the pdf's troops were beginning to lose ground to the geenstealers, unaware that one of Eric's legs was already fully extended.
Thump!!!
Eric kicked the mutant hard in the groin, causing it to immediately release him and curl up like a shrimp, clutching its crotch, just like Eric himself, who was also clutching his stomach after a full-force punch. Eric, still trembling from pain, struggled to his feet, a sinister smile on his face as he prepared to get revenge.
While the mutant lay on the ground, clutching its groin in pain, Eric, still reeling from the shock, slowly walked towards where his assault chain sword had fallen. He bent down to pick it up, his gaze fixed on the mutant with a menacing look.
"Afraid, are you?... What can you do in this state?" he repeated the mutant's insulting words. He wanted to know how it felt to face the same fate; he would get his revenge. Eric tightened his grip on the assault chain sword. The mutant, seeing him approaching with the sword, widened its eyes in terror and tried pathetically to speak for itself.
"Wait, that was a misunderstanding... You should calm down!!!" it tried to say frantically. Eric, whose anger was now somewhat dissipating his pain, approached the mutant much faster. Seeing this, the mutant tried to crawl away, a pathetic attempt at escape.
"Weak... useless, huh!" Eric repeated its words before delivering another powerful kick to its groin, sending it curling up again. Eric grinned with satisfaction before delivering another kick to its torso, forcing it to lie flat. He straddled its chest and repeatedly struck its face with his assault chain sword. The mutant tried to parry and push him away with its hands, but to no avail. Enraged, Eric continued to strike its face with the chain sword until its hands weakened and went still, but he didn't stop.
"A pathetic creature, huh?" Eric said, breathing heavily. His hands were covered in blood, and the mutant's head was now just a pile of flesh. Eric tried to calm himself down. "Okay, it's dead now." He looked left and right, realizing the PDF forces were starting to gain control. Eric used his assault chain sword to prop himself up and kicked the creature again with contempt.
"Tch! Those disgusting mutants," he thought to himself, filled with contempt and hatred.
In his mind, since coming to this world, mutants were utterly evil. Those who had tried to devour him, and most of them actually did, as well as the hideous and perverse ones, deserved to be wiped out from the galaxy altogether.
Eric slowly picked up his glasses and put them on. The pain was starting to return. He gritted his teeth, enduring the pain, and slowly walked to his fallen bag, followed by his gun. Then he rejoined the other PDF soldiers, still experiencing some shortness of breath and pain. He also thought he needed more close-combat training.
"Ouch!... *cough* *cough*" Eric coughed softly, the pain still lingering where he'd been punched. He's definitely got internal injuries now. Damn!
______________________________________________
Kill Team's breakthrough continued silently, broken only by the heavy footsteps of their power armor on the vibrating metal floor. Within the narrow alleys, the light from their helmets was the only thing battling the thick darkness filled with dust and the stench of Tyranid geenstealers. Suddenly, Kill Team entered an open area—an old, dilapidated warehouse supported by crumbling pillars.
"Ahead! There are a lot of geenstealers up there!" Hjolmir from Blood Wolf roared, wrinkling his nose. Before his roar could finish... Six bluish-purple creatures darted forward from the darkness. These Genestealers moved too fast for humans to perceive, but for the Adeptus Astartes, they were mere moving images requiring immediate reaction. Hakron, channeling the Monitor and wearing his heavy Terminator armor, didn't hesitate. He charged at them cautiously, for even the slightest carelessness could easily kill them. The lightning claw mounted on his left arm activated, its four long claws enveloped in a terrifying display of lightning.
"Maintain formation! And watch your rear!"
Rumble! The first Genestealer slammed into Hakron's breastplate, letting out a high-pitched shriek. But Hakron was far faster than anticipated, unleashing a blinding blue arc of his Lightning Claw.
Slash! Crack!
His Lightning Claw sliced the Genestealer into multiple pieces, its blood splattering across the Terminator armor, but Hakron remained unfazed. He was an unmoving rock.
While Hakron stalled for time, Satros, the Marine Malevolent, still grumbling about the absurdity of the mission, began to work skillfully.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
"What a waste of time!" He raised his Storm Bolter and fired with precision and speed. No shots were wasted. Large kraken-piercing shells tore apart the bodies of the geenstealers trying to find openings from the sides. They fell with massive holes in their chests and heads. Satros showed no emotion in his killing, only a repulsive mastery.
Thump! Thump! The Bolter roared.
Dreaven, from the Black Dragon, with bone claws protruding from his body, engaged in fierce combat. He didn't use a gun, but charged into battle with a savage instinct that even his own kind would be wary of.
He used his sharp bone claws to deflect enemy claws, then counterattacked with swift and brutal thrusts.
"Go, brothers! It looks like it's noticed!" Dreaven roared, a mixture of fury, disgust, and a desire to prove his worth. Hjolmir, with his superior hunter instincts, was ready to fight. Leading the charge at a rapid pace, he paid little attention to the lower-level Genestealers, focusing instead on finding the fastest route to their goal.
"This way! They're guarding the main passageway!"
He wielded his oversized Chainsword, slashing at any Genestealer blocking their path, cutting them in half. Hjolmir operated like a wolf sniffing its prey; words were few, only determination to reach their destination. The Kill Team moved as a single, flawless unit. Hakron stayed at the front to draw attention and absorb attacks, Satros provided covering fire, Dreaven broke through the lines, and Hjolmir led the way. The battle lasted less than two minutes before they breached the first line of defense, leaving behind a gruesome heap of Genestealers lying on the ground.
"This is how it should be...it would have been over sooner, wouldn't it, everyone, if we were all here?" Satros muttered contentedly as he reloaded his stormbolter.
"Hurry up, stop complaining, Satros!" Hakron ordered coldly. They followed Hjolmir down an increasingly complex and dark corridor until the Kill Team reached the entrance of a massive tunnel that used to be the Under Hive's main ventilation system. Hjolmir stopped, taking a deep breath through the air vents in his helmet.
"I've found it," Hakron whispered. Suddenly, everyone felt an immense pressure radiating from the darkness ahead. The Genestealer Matriarch, the mission's objective...was waiting for them. Inside a massive hall covered in purple slime, a colossal Genestealer Matriarch sat on a high pedestal. It was twice the size of a Space Marine, with claws far larger and longer than those of a typical Genestealer. Its eyes stared at the Kill Team like prey walking into a trap. Dozens of Genestealer minions crawled around it, crawling along the walls and ceiling, awaiting their master's command. The four members of the Kill Team stopped in their tracks, fearless. Only a determination as strong as steel could stand.
"For the emperor!" everyone shouted in unison before charging fearlessly towards the geenstealer matriarch.