The Greenskins went completely mad.
The first set of interior walls crumbled rapidly under their wild, unrelenting charge. Killa Kans chased down fleeing auxiliary soldiers, crushing them into the permafrost, while the Ork Boys fought over who got to claim the "humie" heads. The Mekboys even began disassembling captured heavy bolters on the spot, eager to see how the "shrimp's" big guns were put together.
Guga the Mountain stood atop the ruins of the collapsed inner wall, crushing a chunk of ferro-concrete into dust with his Power Klaw. He looked around at his minions wreaking havoc, a surging sense of triumph swelling in his massive chest. These "shrimps" weren't so tough after all!
However, as his gaze traveled past his jubilant subordinates to the terrain further back, his excitement was instantly extinguished. Less than a thousand meters behind the ruins of the first wall stood another fortification.
This wall was low—barely over three meters high—hardly taller than Guga himself. It looked simple, constructed from quick-poured concrete panels, but it was dangerously sturdy. Most importantly, the silhouettes of heavy weapons were visible along its rim, their dark muzzles all leveled directly at the breach.
Guga narrowed his eyes. Something was wrong. There were too many cannons for such a small wall. And even to his primitive mind, they looked incredibly powerful.
"A second wall? Tear it down too!" an Ork Nob roared excitedly nearby. To the Orks, this low barrier looked even more vulnerable than the one they had just smashed.
The Nob's roar ignited the ferocity of the surrounding Greenskins. Without hesitation, the bloodthirsty Boys charged toward the seemingly fragile low wall. Guga let out a low growl, intending to shout a warning, but his pride as a Warboss wouldn't allow him to show hesitation in front of the lads.
The frenzied Ork army surged into the second wall's engagement zone. In truth, they had been in the kill zone the moment they entered the "pocket," but the humans had been waiting for them to pack in tightly enough.
Suddenly, the heavy weapons lining the low wall spewed out a synchronized storm of destruction.
The area behind the Forbidden Wall was instantly transformed into a hell of steel and promethium. A metallic storm of heavy bolter rounds acted like a meat grinder, shredding flesh, bone, and crude scrap-armor into a fine red mist. Autocannon fire swept horizontally through the charging ranks, severing tens of thousands of Orks at the waist. Precise, crimson beams from lascannons targeted anything that looked like a leader, leaving smoldering craters in the snow.
But that was only the beginning. With a piercing whistle, a swarm of Hunter-Killer missiles soared into the air, raining down sub-munitions that saturated the entire assault area. The indiscriminate explosions sent Orks and frozen soil flying into the sky. The main cannons of Leman Russ tanks roared with a deep rumble, their shells carving bloody lanes through the densest part of the Greenskin ranks.
In just dozens of seconds, the charging green wave was halved.
However, the catastrophic casualties did not cause the Orks to break. Instead, after the initial shock, the carnage only aroused their primal ferocity. The Boys in the rear stepped over the mangled corpses of their comrades, braving the hail of lead to continue the charge. Outside the breach, a steady stream of Greenskins poured in, filling the void with sheer numbers.
The "pocket" was caught in a strange, violent equilibrium: the humans reaped lives with mechanical efficiency, while the Greenskins sustained their momentum through endless numbers and fearless madness.
Just as the two sides reached a deadlock, a thunderous boom echoed from the clouds. Six enormous figures tore through the smoke-choked sky, descending with an oppressive, godly aura.
BOOM!
Six consecutive impacts shook the ground violently. Orks near the impact points were vaporized by the sheer kinetic force. As the dust cleared, six Imperial Knights stood tall in the center of the slaughter.
Leading the group was a silver-blue Knight Paladin piloted by Quinn St. Gallus, its twelve-meter-tall frame blotting out the sun. Quinn's arrogant voice boomed across the battlefield through his external vox-emitters:
"Let's stop playing around with these pests."
Two dark-blue Armiger Warglaives quickly deployed to protect his flanks. On the other side, Aiden St. Gallus was already piloting his grey Knight into the fray, supported by his own pair of attendants. They were like a silver blade piercing the heart of the green madness.
The Orks were momentarily stunned by the appearance of "tin toys" that were even larger and more imposing than their own walkers. But soon, their fighting spirit reached a new peak. Now dat's a real fight!
Quinn's Knight moved first. He ignored the Grots and Boys swarming around his feet, fixing his sights on a Gorkonaut that was tearing through a human firing position. His Armiger escorts cleared the way with thermal spears and chain-cleavers. His Ion Shield flared, absorbing a continuous barrage of Ork fire.
Quinn's Knight charged with heavy, earth-shaking steps. Sensing the threat, the Gorkonaut roared and swung its massive Klaw. Its Deffstorm Mega-shoota fired wildly, bullets splashing harmlessly against the Knight's Ion Shield.
The silver-blue Knight neither dodged nor pivoted. He unleashed a Thunderstrike Gauntlet, striking with the force of a falling star.
CRUNCH!
The Gauntlet slammed into the Gorkonaut's Klaw, snapping the hydraulic wrist joint before burying itself in the machine's ferocious metal head. With a teeth-grinding screech of tearing steel, the Gorkonaut's head-unit was crushed into the chassis. Quinn didn't stop. The heavy stubbers built into his Knight's frame fired at point-blank range, while his Thermal Cannon hissed to life.
A blinding flash of thermal energy erupted. When the steam cleared, the Gorkonaut's entire upper torso had vanished, leaving only a pair of smoking, mechanical legs standing in the snow.
On the other side, Aiden's Grey Knight engaged the Morkonaut. The Ork walker's Kustom Mega-zappas crackled, firing deadly beams of energy, but the Knight's Ion Shield efficiently deflected the heat. Aiden retaliated with a Gatling Cannon, each high-caliber shell punching charred holes in the Morkonaut's ramshackle armor until the Ork machine finally collapsed into an exploding fireball.
Having eliminated the heavy threats, the six Knights did not push deeper. Instead, they acted as the "Gatekeepers" of the inner wall, sealing the space between the breach and the second line of defense. They ignored the Orks pouring in from the outside, but any Greenskin attempting to break out of the "pocket" or escape back through the breach was met with relentless fire.
The six Imperial Knights became a one-way gate of death.
"Wot's da big tin cans doin'?!" "Dey're blockin' da way out!"
Losing their biggest "idols" and having their retreat cut off ignited a final, desperate madness in the Orks. Guga watched his trump cards being systematically dismantled, his mind reeling. The last trace of his cunning was consumed by a raging fire of hatred.
"DAMN HUMIES!!!" he roared, a heart-wrenching sound that echoed over the din of battle.
His anger and humiliation turned into a singular, obsessive purpose. He no longer cared about tactics or survival. He had only one thought: Charge! Tear dat humie leader to shreds!
"WAAAAAAAGH!!!"
Guga brandished his Power Klaw and charged toward the command sector where Leo and Raynor were stationed. The Warboss's frenzy ignited the bloodlust of every remaining Greenskin. Retreat? There was no such thing. There was only the Waaagh!
The Orks' eyes glowed a feral red. They ignored the flanking fire and the mounting piles of dead. A restless green aura, almost visible to the naked eye, began to emanate from the horde, coiling and amplifying into a savage resonance of ancient, violent souls.
The Waaagh! field had reached its absolute peak.