The bridge of the "storm" cruiser was so quiet that the monotonous hum of the life support system could be heard.
A massive holographic star map rotated slowly in the center of the bridge, zooming in to the extreme on a star system marked in deep red.
That was "Nest-7," a name synonymous with "death" and "plague" on Dominion star maps.
General Vance stood before the star map, pointing at several planets in the system with a stylus pen.
"Your Excellency commander, according to the 'Scalpel' plan formulated by the staff, we will employ the fleet's full long-range firepower to prioritize the destruction of Nest-7's third and fifth planets. These two are the primary hatching planets of the Tyranids."
His voice was steady and professional, representing the most orthodox tactical thinking of the Dominion military.
"After destroying their reproductive capabilities, we will conduct orbital bombardment on the main planet, the Hive Heart, for three standard days, focusing on clearing high-density biological signal areas on the surface. Finally, the fleet will establish a permanent blockade line here to starve them out completely. The entire operation is expected to take fifteen standard days, with our combat losses controlled within ten percent."
This was a typical Dominion-style proposal.
Precise, efficient, achieving the goals of expulsion and containment at the minimum cost.
The captains of several other ships present, participating in the meeting via holographic projection, all showed expressions of approval.
Only Reinhardt remained silent from beginning to end.
He simply sat quietly on the commander's throne, watching General Vance's presentation.
Not until Vance finished and turned his gaze toward him, waiting for his final approval.
Reinhardt slowly looked up.
"I reject this plan."
His voice was soft, yet it struck everyone's heart like a heavy hammer.
General Vance's brow furrowed instantly.
"Your Excellency commander, this is the optimal solution derived from dozens of simulations by the staff."
"Optimal?" A cold arc curved at the corner of Reinhardt's mouth. "General, your 'optimal' is built upon a false premise."
He stood up and walked to the star map.
He did not use the stylus pen.
He reached out directly and grasped the ugly planet model covered in red patches that represented the Hive Heart planet.
"Your goal is expulsion and containment."
"But my goal," his fingers closed, and the holographic image of the planet was crushed in his palm, "is extermination."
Extermination.
This word caused the temperature of the entire bridge to drop several degrees.
The faces of the captains in the projection changed slightly.
General Vance's pupils constricted sharply.
"Your Excellency commander! Completely exterminating an intelligent species in a star system does not comply with the Dominion Charter! Furthermore, total war will expand our casualties to an unbearable level!"
"Species?" Reinhardt acted as if he had heard a joke. "General, look closely. Are these a species?"
He waved his hand, and a segment of video footage was retrieved and projected in the air.
It was footage captured by a Dominion drone at the risk of its destruction.
Endless, locust-like creatures writhed on the surface of a planet. They devoured each other and reproduced, turning the entire surface of the planet into a constantly churning ocean of carapace and flesh.
"This is not a species. This is a plague. It is a cosmic cancer cell that must be thoroughly purged."
Reinhardt's voice became sacred and majestic.
"Your Charter is the self-consolation of the weak. Your mercy is cruelty toward your own race."
"I reiterate once more, the sole objective of this operation."
He looked around at everyone, an unquestionable fire burning in those golden eyes.
"Purification."
"Completely erase all non-human life signs within the 'Nest-7' system from this universe. Whether they are adults, larvae, or eggs, leave none behind."
"This is not a conventional war. This is a Great Purge Crusade. In this crusade, casualties are meaningless. Only the Emperor's will is the truth that must be executed."
General Vance opened his mouth, wanting to say something more.
But when he saw the two Cadian Guards standing behind Reinhardt like silent statues, he swallowed his words.
From the eyes of those two guards, he saw a fanaticism he could not understand.
He knew that saying more would be meaningless.
Before this man, Dominion military regulations and humanitarian charters were merely scraps of paper.
"Pass down my order."
Reinhardt's voice echoed in the silent bridge.
"First Purge Fleet, depart."
"Target: Nest-7."
The magnificent "storm" cruiser, like a sleeping behemoth, slowly woke up.
Following it were the three "avenger"-class escorts behind it, five "Lancer"-class destroyers, and over a dozen auxiliary ships.
A massive steel cluster deployed its formation in the cosmos.
Inside the ships, Dominion Soldiers and Astra Militarum Soldiers formed two distinct ecosystems.
The Dominion Soldiers were methodically making final preparations for the jump at their respective posts, the air filled with commands, mechanical confirmation beeps, and occasional small talk.
In the compartments and battle stations assigned to the Astra Militarum, however, there was a solemn silence.
They did not talk.
They just silently wiped their lasguns over and over again, checking their equipment with the most devout posture.
By every person's bedside was an double-headed eagle emblem.
From their mouths, they softly chanted the prayers of the Cadian Regiment.
"What the Emperor wills, I shall do."
"Blood for blood, a tooth for a tooth."
General Vance walked through a corridor and happened to witness this scene.
An inexplicable chill rose in his heart.
He felt as though he was leading a group of war maniacs in human skin to carry out a genocide.
He did not know if this was saving the Dominion or dragging it into an even deeper abyss.
"Attention all units, Warp engine starting, countdown thirty seconds."
"Navigator locking coordinates, preparing to enter the Warp."
"Geller Field is active, strength at one hundred percent."
Reinhardt sat on the command throne, listening to the methodical reports coming to his ears.
His expression was as calm as still water.
At the moment the countdown hit zero, the universe outside the window was instantly distorted.
Countless rays of light were stretched and torn, turning into a bizarre and chaotic sea of light.
The fleet entered the Warp.
Under normal circumstances, Warp travel was a form of torture for any sane person.
The malicious whispers from beyond space would drill into your mind at all times, inducing the deepest fears and madness in your heart.
But this time, everyone felt something different.
Those whispers seemed very far away from them.
The Geller Field, the barrier separating reality from Chaos, seemed to have become more solid and stable than ever before.
Some psionically sensitive crew members could even feel that in the center of the fleet, on the bridge of the "storm," there was a mental beacon as dazzling as the sun, emitting a golden, warm light.
That light made all the chaotic murmurs retreat.
They did not know that it was Reinhardt's soul, blessed by the Emperor, unconsciously protecting the entire fleet.
They only felt that this voyage was exceptionally smooth and reassuring.
Seven standard days later.
"Exiting the Warp shortly, countdown ten seconds."
"All units, prepare for impact! Battle stations!"
The moment the fleet broke through the barriers of reality, piercing alarms rang through every ship.
The scene outside the window made all the Dominion Soldiers who had come here for the first time gasp.
They had arrived at an ocean of life.
No, it was a graveyard of life.
Tens of thousands, even hundreds of thousands of biological warships densely filled the outer perimeter of the entire star system.
They came in various forms.
Some looked like giant beetles covered in bone spikes.
Some were like giant jellyfish with countless tentacles floating in space.
They had no metal hulls, only dark red, constantly writhing flesh and chitin.
Their "gun ports" were chambers that constantly opened and closed, oozing green acid.
The moment the Purification Fleet appeared, this "ocean" came alive.
Countless biological warships turned around, swarming toward the fleet like sharks smelling blood.
"My god..."
On the bridge of the "storm," a young Dominion navigator turned pale as he looked at the radar screen, which was instantly covered with red dots.
"Detected enemy unit count... exceeding three hundred thousand... still increasing!"
"They're rushing us!"
General Vance's fist clenched instantly.
He knew the Hive's numbers were vast, but the sight before him still exceeded his worst estimates.
In the face of such numbers of enemies, any tactics seemed pale and powerless.
"All ships! Deploy defensive formation! Vanguard fleet, activate interception fire nets! Do not let them get close!"
He issued the most standard defensive command.
In an instant, the turrets of the Dominion warships began to turn, and countless blue-white plasma beams and blaster bolts shot toward the surging Tyranid swarm.
The fire of explosions connected into a single sheet in the void.
But their firepower, compared to that massive base number, was like a drop in the bucket.
Countless small Tyranid warships braved the gunfire, rushing forward without fear of death.
The shields of a "Lancer"-class destroyer were exhausted in just a few dozen seconds by countless suicide rammings and acid sprays.
Alarms blared frantically on its bridge.
"Shields down! Port armor damaged thirty percent! They are eating our hull!"
Just then.
A cold, emotionless command was transmitted through an encrypted channel to another destroyer, the "Pride of Cadia."
The fire control system of this destroyer was taken over by Astra Militarum Soldiers.
"Target: ahead of the 'Lancer', coordinate grid 77-9-12. Concentrated fire."
"As you command, my Master!"
The reply was an equally cold and fanatical voice.
All the main guns of the "Pride of Cadia" fired simultaneously with an incredible synchronization rate.
Over a dozen thick beams did not scatter in the slightest, condensing into a single destructive pillar of light that precisely hit the void in front of the besieged "Lancer."
That was exactly where the Tyranid small warships were most densely packed.
There was no violent explosion.
Wherever that pillar of light passed, all biological warships were instantly vaporized and decomposed into basic particles.
A massive, fan-shaped vacuum zone was forcibly cleared out.
The captain of the "Lancer" stared dumbfounded at this miraculous scene, unable to speak for a long time.
This was... the power of the Purification Fleet?
Reinhardt's command had only just begun.
"'avenger' One and Three, turn left thirty degrees, use your prows to ram a path open for me."
"'Titan's Fist', main gun overload one hundred twenty percent, target: enemy mothership-class units, fire at will."
"'storm', all point-defense guns, switch to auto-target mode, fire at will."
One after another, calm, precise, and even somewhat insane commands were issued from his mouth.
Vance listened with a pounding heart.
These commands completely violated the combat regulations of the Dominion Navy.
Ordering escorts to ram?
Ordering a cruiser's main guns to fire at will? This would cause friendly fire!
But he soon realized he was wrong again.
Under Reinhardt's command, the entire fleet seemed to turn into a red-hot, indestructible Warhammer.
They were no longer passively defending.
They formed a sharp, unstoppable spearhead, actively and ruthlessly smashing into that boundless Tyranid swarm.
An escort belonging to the Astra Militarum was surrounded by three Tyranid motherships much larger than itself during the thrust.
Its engines were destroyed, and its hull was on fire in multiple places.
While all the Dominion officers thought it would send a distress signal or attempt to retreat.
The captain of that escort, a Cadian veteran with a face full of scars, broadcast his final voice over the public channel.
It was a hearty laugh.
"Brothers! The Emperor is watching us!"
"For the Emperor! For Terra!"
Then, he piloted the warship, which had already turned into a fireball, and rammed it into the largest Tyranid mothership without hesitation.
A violent explosion bloomed in the universe like a silent but incredibly brilliant flower of destruction.
That massive Tyranid mothership was snapped in half.
General Vance and all the Dominion Soldiers who witnessed this scene fell silent.
Their hearts were filled with shock.
It was a kind of madness they could not understand, called "Loyalty."
Reinhardt's face showed no expression.
He just looked at the fire of the explosion and nodded slightly.
"A qualified soldier."
This tragic and efficient breakthrough battle lasted for a full two hours.
When the fleet finally bored through that defensive line composed of flesh and death, three of the eleven warships had been left behind forever.
But they succeeded.
Ahead of them appeared a massive, ugly planet that looked like a beating heart.
The main planet of Nest-7.
The entire surface of the planet was covered in a thick, constantly writhing layer of biological tissue. Massive, volcano-like vents were constantly spewing new Tyranid units into space.
This planet itself was a living, giant weapons factory.
General Vance looked at that planet, feeling a deep sense of helplessness.
How many lives would have to be thrown in to purge such a planet?
"Detected ultra-high intensity psionic signals on the planetary surface."
"Preliminary judgment is a Tyranid command unit, an existence similar to a 'Brain Bug'."
The radar officer's voice made the atmosphere on the bridge even more solemn.
Reinhardt stood up.
He walked to the very front of the bridge, before the massive floor-to-ceiling viewport.
He looked at that filthy planet, his eyes devoid of fear, containing only a cold indifference as if looking at a dead object.
"Pass down my order."
"All warships, charge main guns."
"Prepare for orbital bombardment. Target: the entire planet."
"Clear a clean field for the upcoming landing operation."