Two hours later, Mike arrived at the starport.
By this time, the starport had long since fallen. Infected humans filled every corner, wandering aimlessly in search of any remaining survivors. Honestly, if you were an ordinary transmigrator encountering a Nurgle plague outbreak, you would likely find yourself in this exact situation.
However, remembering that this plague was engineered by the Zerg Overmind actually offered a strange sense of relief. There is a vast difference between being a guest at the table and being the meal on it. Mike was the meal—no, he was likely just an ingredient in one of the dishes. The Overmind didn't spare a single thought for this insignificant human.
Furthermore, Mike had no way to run. The ships in the starport had been destroyed; there was zero chance of escape.
"Catherine, are there any functional ships left?"
[Negative. All communicable ship signals have already departed the planet.]
"This is bad."
Mike knew he could no longer leave the planet. Although the Hellbats could hold out for a while, he was human; he needed food, and the Hellbats' flamethrowers needed fuel.
"The nobles and high-ranking officials probably fled the moment things went south. Sigh."
Mike sighed. Watching the infected closing in on him, he had no choice but to leave the starport, even though he knew death was inevitable.
But Mike was going to die regardless.
Stationed outside the planet was a small Imperial Navy fleet. They had already taken in many refugees fleeing the surface in small craft. However, it didn't take long for those refugees to turn into the infected once they were inside the ships.
Considerable chaos erupted on board, but the Imperial Navy's equipment was far superior to that of the Planetary Defense Force. Combined with the small number of refugees, the Navy managed to suppress the outbreak. They were now incinerating the corpses—one of the few ways to halt the spread of the Zerg virus.
"Is it cleared out?" an Imperial officer wearing a gas mask asked his subordinate.
"The lower decks are cleared. These xenos appear to be infected humans; it's likely a Chaos plague."
"Burn it all. If anyone shows signs of infection, execute them on the spot."
The officer's order was cold-blooded, but correct. Any transmigrator familiar with the Zerg would have made the same decision: burn everything infected to a crisp.
Once a body is fully transformed by the Zerg virus, it is virtually impossible to reverse. Even Abathur would need a specialized culture vat and hands-on manipulation to undo the process; even then, the result is merely a Zerg in human form, the original genetic sequence long gone. Only a Xel'Naga artifact could directly strip away the influence of the Zerg virus.
Fully aware of the danger, the officer returned to the command hall to meet the Captain.
"The infection on the lower levels has been contained, Captain."
"Good work. I truly don't want to hear any more bad news."
The Captain gazed out at the planet. From orbit, the industrial world looked peaceful, but he knew it had become a living hell. The infected occupied nearly 90% of the Hive City; the fall of the remaining areas was only a matter of time. News was also trickling in from nearby planets that the infected had appeared there as well. They were trying to quarantine, but the scope of the infection was too vast. Because of the prolonged incubation period, many carriers had already reached other worlds, making them impossible to track.
"What about the surface?"
"There is nothing we can do. Sending troops down would only increase the number of infected."
The Captain closed his eyes and sighed. "Waiting for orders from the Departmento Munitorum is far too slow."
Just as the Captain assumed it would take years for the Departmento to reply, a subordinate arrived with news.
"Captain, according to the Astropath, the Departmento Munitorum has issued the order: implement Exterminatus on this planet."
The Captain's eyes snapped open. He looked at the messenger in disbelief.
"Exterminatus? Are you sure?"
"It is the order delivered directly by the Astropath."
The Captain's shock was justified. "Exterminatus" is the ultimate measure of the Imperium of Man, used to respond to irredeemable threats by completely wiping out all life on a planet. Though the world was overrun, the Captain had expected to conduct orbital strikes followed by a ground cleanup. Instead, the order was total annihilation.
His fleet had the capability. Even without Cyclone Torpedoes or Virus Bombs, sustained orbital bombardment was a form of Exterminatus.
"Very well." The Captain took a deep breath. "I shall execute the order. I hereby sign the death warrant of this world and consign billions of souls to oblivion. May Imperial Justice bring balance. The Emperor protects."
The fleet began to turn, aiming their macro-cannons and lances at the surface. This industrial world, which had once contributed countless vehicles and ships to the Imperium, was now being ruthlessly discarded.
But what of it? If it was the Emperor's will, if it was for the future of humanity, the Captain would carry out the task without hesitation.
When the first lance fire streaked down, piercing the atmosphere to strike the Hive City, Mike saw it. The massive beam, dozens of meters wide, bridged the gap between heaven and earth, illuminating the terror on his face.
"Why?" he couldn't understand. "Why bombard the surface? Don't they care about the people still alive?"
[WARNING: HIGH ENERGY SIGNATURE DETECTED!]
The Adjutant's voice urged Mike to run, but he had only just finished transforming his Hellion. A second beam slammed into the ground not far away. The shockwave flipped the vehicle entirely. The transport that had protected Mike for so long tumbled through the air several times before crashing, heavily damaged.
"The second shot..."
Mike's legs were shaking. He knew what was coming next.
Just as he feared, a continuous orbital bombardment began to rain down on the Hive. Each blast pulverized massive sections of the city. Infected and survivors alike were turned to ash.
Mike was no exception. He knew he was dead.
Alongside his sparking Hellion, he tried to flee the city, to flee the danger. But when the thirteenth strike fell, he couldn't outrun it. The intense heat from the macro-cannon blast melted the Hellion instantly. Inside, Mike vanished into ash in the blink of an eye.
Like many conscripted transmigrators who die shortly after arrival, he died without ever truly knowing why.
This is Warhammer 40K—a world like a cesspit.