Day 299, Year 986, 41st Millennium
Upper Hive
Front Line, near the main transport elevator of the hive city
Finally, the assault began.
The PDF forces, led by numerous armored vehicles and tanks, advanced along the narrow, precarious streets. Along the way, they were ambushed in every conceivable way: landmines, anti-tank rockets, and even geenstealers, which strapped explosives to themselves and launched them at the PDF forces, causing immense damage.
But we all knew what would happen. With their overwhelming numbers, their unwavering faith in the Emperor of Mankind, and the firepower of their armored vehicles and tanks, they were able to advance deeper and deeper rapidly, even at the cost of heavy casualties. And then they reached the main defenses of the geenstealer cult.
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A deafening roar, like thunder, erupted from the Battle Cannon of a Leman Russ tank less than three meters away, deafening the ears. The blast of air from the gunfire hit Eric, almost making him trip.
"Damn it... am I going to be permanently deaf?" Eric muttered under his breath, his voice barely a whisper compared to the hellish outside world. One hand gripped the Lasgun so tightly that his knuckles turned white, the other brushed the cement dust off his helmet.
_This assault is far worse and more brutal than any before. And the mutants are attaching explosives to themselves and charging at tanks!_ he thought to himself, adjusting the collar of his Flak Armor, which was starting to sting the skin on his shoulder. Eric, believing the point they were about to capture must be a crucial strategic location, as many suspected, jogged along, trying to maintain a safe distance behind the heavy steel rear of the Leman Russ tank ahead. Not too far to be a target, and not too close to be crushed by the tracks, or suffer shrapnel wounds from the sounds of the tanks being attacked and exploding, like some of the other soldiers. He'd learned that the back of a tank offered a degree of safety. But no place is safe forever, or 100% safe. And worse, he didn't know Livia's well-being, because she was in a different unit and might even be fighting in a different area.
He was terribly worried about Livia.
"Ugh! How disgusting," Eric thought to himself as he accidentally stepped on the corpse of an unfortunate and pathetic PDF soldier who had been shot and crushed by a tank. His body was now flattened and mashed up.
Bang! Clang! Boom!
The sound of enemy artillery shells raining down on the thick armor of the tank in front of him created a whirlwind of sparks like deadly fireworks. A shell ricocheted past Eric's ear. He automatically recoiled, a shiver running down his spine, but he kept running.
"...Isn't there a better way?" he sarcastically remarked, his gaze sweeping around. His fellow PDF soldiers running beside him wore similar expressions—maniacal, empty, terrified, and exhausted. When the tank slightly shifted to open a firing angle, he thought this tactic was quite wasteful of soldiers. It was a crude fighting strategy, even though it seemed to be targeting a specific defensive point. But judging from the state of things, it seems the commander who gave these orders has probably thought it through.
Hopefully.
After walking a little further, the scene suddenly became clear through the smoke. The colossal cargo elevator, once the heart of transportation in Hive City, was now almost unrecognizable. It had become a small, ugly, and terrifying fortress. Rusty steel plates, wrecked cars, and rubble were crudely welded together to form thick walls. Heavy machine guns and gun emplacements, and rocket launchers, protruded from gaps in the rubbish like sharp thorns of a beast. The flashes of gunfire emanated from the junk fortress incessantly, like hundreds of demonic eyes staring at them. Eric unconsciously slowed his pace, his eyes widening beneath his helmet. Worry was evident on his soot-stained face.
_That's... a hellish pile of garbage..._ he thought to himself, swallowing hard. The courage he had gathered moments before began to waver.
"Do we really have to storm that thing? Just seeing it makes me feel like we're going to be crushed before we even get to the gate... Someone tell me this is just a nightmare." Despite his incessant grumbling, Eric tightened his grip on his gun, took a deep breath into his dust-filled lungs, and continued running after the tanks... towards the shadowy fortress ahead.
While many continued running and advancing, and tanks still drove on, some hesitated, overcome with fear and apprehension, including himself. It was terrifying. Suddenly, they were within range of the cannons, and every gun on this small, dilapidated fortress unleashed a barrage of fire on the advancing PDF forces.
Many tanks were destroyed instantly, including armored vehicles that exploded and burst into flames. Many PDF soldiers were killed on the spot, while others likely took cover behind the wreckage of tanks or those still operational to protect themselves from the fortress's gunfire. Eric was one of them, hiding behind a tank wreck, his hand gripping his gun tightly. It was terrifying suppressive fire; the continuous barrage of artillery combined with machine gun fire. He barely dared to move. Dust and dirt covered him. When the gunfire subsided for only a few seconds, he quickly looked up and aimed his gun at the dilapidated fortress.
He picked up his binoculars and peered cautiously, spotting a mutant manning one of its cannons. The cannon was shielded with thick steel plates and had a small viewing window through which he could discern the mutant. He carefully raised his own rifle, aiming at the mutant. From this distance, he wasn't sure if he'd hit anything, nor was he certain his own Lassgun could reach it. He was even uncertain about its range, as previous battles had always been at distances of no more than 100 or 50 meters. Eric held his breath before pulling the trigger.
Pew!!
A red beam of light shot towards the mutant's head, narrowly missing it by the small opening. Its head exploded, and its body slumped limply. The cannon was temporarily disabled until a new mutant took over.
It seemed the PDF forces were regaining their composure. Numerous tank cannons bombarded the fortress, inflicting some damage on the main gun emplacements, but it wasn't significant. Each time one cannon was destroyed, another would take its place. But it seemed the bad luck wasn't over yet.
The fortress gates swung open, revealing numerous tanks, either captured by the mutants or manufactured in factories on the other side, moving out and fiercely battling the PDF tanks.
Suddenly, a tank battle erupted in a confined space. The hideous fortress, made of mutant junk, ceased its barrage of fire and switched to providing friendly support.
This caused many PDF soldiers to hesitate, filled with fear and anxiety. Then, a figure in armor entered the battlefield. Eric recognized the details of the armor and the name of this space marine: Chaplain Samael. He walked in with a large hammer in his hand and a staff, the Corzius Arcanum, shaped like a two-headed eagle with its wings half-folded. His demeanor was calm and unfazed by the tanks and artillery fire directed at the PDF forces. Three other space marines followed closely behind. As he advanced towards the front, many PDF soldiers looked at Chaplain Samael with eyes filled with courage and hope. If Eric's understanding was correct... They revere space marines as angels sent from the Emperor, angels of death, which seems plausible.
"Look up! Imperial soldiers! What are you looking at!?" Chaplain Samael stopped in front of the line of soldiers, ignoring the artillery and machine gun fire that had just come, and spoke in a heavy, fierce, and chillingly powerful voice. His voice was amplified by his Vox-caster, echoing through the surrounding ruins. Even in the midst of the fighting, many soldiers paused, listening to what the chaplain was about to say, but they didn't lower their guard and continued to fire.
He paused for a moment, letting the explosions answer, before continuing in a softer but still menacing tone.
"Do you see the thickness of those iron walls? Do you see the fire spewing from the muzzles of those beasts?" He spoke, raising his staff, Crozius Arcanum, high above his head and pointing it at the rubble fortress.
"Remember! They have fear! That's all they have! They hide behind that disgusting pile of scrap metal, knowing their very existence is fragile and repulsive! They are disease! Just tainted half-breeds of Xenos!" "They are merely parasites burrowing into the stomach of this city! ...Since some have come this far, should you hesitate? Everyone here is brave, why not show more courage? Or will you be a coward and die a pathetic death? I will be the one to kill them myself!" Chaplain Samael spoke with harsh words and a voice filled with hatred. Eric flinched slightly at the mention of cowards being killed. He slowly pushed himself up from the ground, crouched, and aimed at the mutants he had targeted earlier. Suddenly, he saw one of the mutants aim a gun at Chaplain Samael, but he dodged and drew his large pistol, firing back and killing the mutant instantly. Eric was stunned, as he had barely seen Chaplain draw his pistol with his eyes. The distance between him and his target was approximately 800 meters.
_If Samael intended to kill him, he wouldn't survive,_ Eric thought to himself anxiously after witnessing Chaplain Samael's pistol shooting skills.
"What are we waiting for?... Look at those heretics, those disgusting weaklings in front of me... They deserve to be eliminated, and they must be eliminated now....
Kill the xenos!!!
Burn the heretic!!!
Purge the unclean!!!!
For the emperor!!!!!!" Chaplain Samael roared loudly before charging towards the advancing Geenstealers and other Space Marines. The human soldiers, hearing the speech, were greatly energized; their faith was rekindled and filled to the fullest.
"For the emperor!!!" All the PDf soldiers shouted in unison before continuing the fight with renewed determination. The tanks accelerated and charged at full speed, disregarding the terrain. The ordinary human soldiers ran after the tanks without hesitation, shouting their prayers as they went.
Tanks from both sides exchanged fierce gunfire. Shouts of overwhelming courage erupted from both sides. As far as Eric could hear, one side consisted of mutants with their twisted beliefs about some kind of four-armed emperor, while the other side comprised PDF soldiers shouting praises to the emperor while firing artillery at the mutant tanks. The ground infantry was equally fierce, fighting with guns and melee weapons. Eric, aiming his rifle, even saw some PDF infantrymen using swords, or even Warhammer weapons. Slashing, hand-to-hand combat, and even bludgeoning enemies to death with rifle butts were rampant across the battlefield. In a short time, massive losses had occurred on both sides. Tank wreckage and corpses littered the battlefield.
It seemed like an eternity.
But this was only the first 10 minutes of fighting in this area.
And Eric, still reeling from the unfolding events, had barely done anything in those 10 minutes. There were some PDFs like himself, hesitant and fearful of the war unfolding before them. They stood in the back lines, taking cover, and some cowardly offered covering fire, as if they were being treated with timid despair. Eric understood that feeling perfectly, because he was in the same situation now.
_Who would be crazy enough to dare go out and fight like this?_ he thought to himself, craning his neck to watch the chaotic, brutal, violent, and rather bloody battle.
"Die, you ugly bastard!" he cursed before seizing a good opportunity to aim his gun at one of the mutants and pull the trigger. It fell instantly. Looking ahead again, he saw that the PDF soldiers charging into close combat with the mutants were getting closer, and it seemed that the armored vehicle and tank attacks had already damaged some of the turrets and cannons.
Eric quickly assessed the risks before leaving the camp and running after the other soldiers. He couldn't stay behind; otherwise, he might be suspected and possibly killed. As he ran, he cautiously looked left and right, periodically taking cover behind the wreckage of tanks. Along the way, he noticed and could feel the despair.
Right now, the area is littered with hundreds of wrecked tanks. Some have burning corpses on board, others have missing turrets, and the ground is covered in the remains of both humans and mutants, with small pools of blood in some areas. Some tanks have been rammed into wreckage, deflected off it without a second thought, and then driven forward only to be shot and explode.
Eric tried to ignore the scene, stopping abruptly and aiming at a mutant attempting to attack him from the side, using the wreckage for cover. He fired two shots, enough to easily kill it. Without hesitation, he sprinted to catch up with the others. Ahead of him...
"Hahaha...Die, you filthy creatures!!!" Lieutenant Rocklin was wielding a pickaxe, which he may have retrieved from somewhere, relentlessly slaughtering the mutants. He was leading his troop, running closer and closer to the fortified position. And several platoons of soldiers, including many tanks, were also present.
Chaplain Samael and the space marines led the way. Chaplain Samael and the other space marines fought the mutants, easily and quickly killing them. They fell like leaves, and many fled as they got closer. Erik tried to ignore anything that might distract him; he had to be extremely careful, or he would surely die.
Finally, Erik caught up with his group, which now consisted of only about five people. Finding the others made him feel a little relieved. It seemed that hundreds, even thousands, of mutants were beginning to emerge from the Guru within the fortress walls, each becoming increasingly hideous.
"Don't move!! Don't budge! Form a defensive line, fire short-range shots, and eliminate them all!!!!" Lieutenant Rocklin shouted, wielding his pickaxe to strike one of the mutants on the head, sending its body convulsing one last time before it died. He then pulled the pickaxe from its head. The PDF soldiers in that group then unleashed a barrage of attacks on the approaching mutants. Eric was immediately flustered by the sheer number of them, but he could only show his panic and continue fighting despite his fear.
However, the space marines and some PDF soldiers, filled with unwavering spirit and faith, fought fiercely and with hatred. They managed to break through the horde of mutants, getting closer and closer to the fortress.
It seemed that the PDF tank force had now defeated and destroyed all of the mutant tanks. They had shifted from fighting the tanks to providing full fire support, although only about 50 tanks remained.
The previously dire situation began to improve. The mutants were being pushed further and closer into the scrap-like fortress. Everywhere they passed, corpses lay piled on the ground. Eric ignored them and continued firing at the mutants. Suddenly, something made many of the PDF soldiers stop in their tracks, including Eric. He had never seen such a huge tank before. The design he had envisioned, perhaps the German P-1000 from World War II, wasn't quite as massive, but it was still enormous. It was mounted with twins heavy bolters on each side, and two large turrets above the tracks, each fitted with a large last cannon. At the front, there was a massive main gun and two heavy bolters. Who the hell designed this tank?!
"How the hell did the Baneblade get here?! We're screwed!!!!" Lieutenant Rocklin cursed. Soon enough, disaster struck the PDF side.
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Lower Hive, an area not controlled by the Empire or the Geenstealer cult.
Malakai, the fanatical cult leader, his eyes wide and gleaming a dull yellow under the dim light of torches made of human fat. He stood before a summoning circle painted in blood, a gruesome sacrifice, and forbidden symbols of unspeakable power. Faint but hungry chants echoed from the hundreds of thousands of members gathered around him.
"O Eyes of Truth! Prince of Darkness! Purifier of the world from lies! God of Blood, and God of life and decay! Look upon your faithful servant!" Malakai roared, raising his bone ceremonial knife high before plunging it into the heart of his last victim, crucified on the altar. His emotions surged like never before. The plan he had spent decades structuring and gathering his followers for was finally bearing fruit. He had rebelled in his weakest moment. He envisioned a world liberated from the oppression of the Empire. And most importantly, liberation from the oppression of the Korvax family. He would make this planet his kingdom, under the divine rule of the God of Chaos. 'Power! Power greater than any planetary governor ever! Praise from the Great Angel…and he himself might even become a demon prince.'
The summoning ring began to emit a blinding dark purple light. The air trembled and distorted, like a reflection in turbulent water. The walls of the hall cracked with the tremors. Screams of excitement erupted from the Cultists as the veil of reality tore, and what appeared to be a massive, hallucinatory portal appeared. The scent of ozone, blood, and more, and a scorching mist of chaotic energy erupted. A colossal figure emerged from the portal… nearly 100 Chaos Space Marines in blood-red armor, adorned with sacred inscriptions and oaths in ancient languages. They were the Word Bearers, those who shattered the Empire's faith to spread the truth of chaos! Malachite knelt down in overwhelming joy. These were his angels! They had arrived to guide him to final victory!
"Honorable Archangel!" Malakai shouted with utmost respect.
"The ceremony is complete! We are ready to serve your army!" The remaining Cultists quickly knelt, bowing their heads, awaiting the command and the blessing of chaos… A word bearer, with horns protruding from his shoulders and seemingly the leader, stood still for a moment. He looked up at the vast, trembling assembly of Cultists with profound respect, and then a voice, distorted and hoarse from the communication jamming through his helmet, roared, instantly silencing the hall.
"HYDRA DOMINATUS!!! For alpharius!!!" *Click!!!*
With that roar, he raised the Bolter rifle in his hand without hesitation, quickly cocking it. Malachi and the other Cultists exchanged bewildered glances… "Hydra Dominatus"? That was no praise they had ever heard! And why was their angel aiming a weapon at them? Before the fanatical Cultists could even comprehend the situation, a Bolter gun rang out...
BANG!!!
Malakai's torso, severed from the chest up, fell to the ground, shocking the chaos cultists present. While their surprise hadn't subsided, the armor of these chaos space marines began to change color from blood-red to a sea-blue.
Every chaos space marine raised their weapons, and the massacre began.
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