In orbit above the third planet, thousands of warships belonging to the 63rd Expeditionary Fleet slowly advanced toward the blue-green world.
The massive barrels of their macrocannons began warming up.
Lance batteries started charging.
The armored doors of their torpedo tubes slid open.
Opposite them, the six hundred-plus warships belonging to the third planet had also assumed battle formations.
Two enormous fleets faced each other across the cold void.
Aboard the Vengeful Spirit, Horus stood before the main bridge's immense observation window, looking out at the neatly arranged enemy vessels in the distance.
Behind him, the communications officers worked frantically at their stations.
"Lord Warmaster Horus!"
One communications officer looked up.
"We've transmitted our ultimatum to the enemy..."
"Surrender immediately. Cease all resistance and submit to Imperial judgment..."
"Otherwise, they will face total annihilation."
Horus didn't turn around.
He merely asked, in a quiet voice:
"And their response?"
The communications officer immediately replied, his voice heavy.
"They..."
Before he could finish, countless flashes of light suddenly erupted across the holographic star map.
"They've opened fire..."
Every warship from the third planet unleashed its weapons toward the 63rd Expeditionary Fleet at almost the same moment.
Laser beams.
Plasma cannons.
Missiles.
The attacks came like a torrential downpour, tracing countless deadly paths through the void.
Horus's pupils narrowed slightly.
Then he smiled.
It was a smile cold enough to send a chill down anyone's spine.
"Foolish traitors."
He turned and strode back toward his throne.
A fury capable of burning entire star systems blazed in his amber eyes.
"Transmit my orders..."
His voice thundered across the fleetwide communications network, carrying the authority of the Warmaster and an unmistakable promise of death.
"Full-scale assault."
"Show these traitors..."
"The true meaning of..."
"The Emperor's wrath."
With Warmaster Horus's command, the 63rd Expeditionary Fleet's immense war machine roared into full operation.
Communications officers raced across their holographic interfaces, transmitting the Warmaster's will to the bridge of every warship at the speed of light.
"First Battle Group, deploy along the left flank. Calibrate weapons to coordinates Gamma-7 through Gamma-12."
"Second Battle Group, circle around the right flank and cut off the enemy's retreat."
"Third Battle Group, commence frontal assault. Saturation bombardment authorized."
Orders passed through the chain of command with mechanical precision.
Every component of the fleet moved together like the interlocking gears of an immense machine.
Three minutes later...
Thousands of macrocannons roared simultaneously.
It was a sight nobody who witnessed it would ever forget.
Countless brilliant white streaks erupted from the formations of the 63rd Expeditionary Fleet, filling the void with a dense web of destruction.
Their targets were the six hundred-plus enemy warships arranged in battle formation ahead.
The warships of the third planet were still trying to continue their attack, their weapons beginning another charging cycle.
But it was already too late.
The first macrocannon barrage struck with devastating accuracy.
Three macrocannon shells slammed into the bow of a cruiser simultaneously.
Its adamantium armor vaporized beneath the terrifying release of energy, and the entire ship exploded into two pieces.
The broken sections tumbled through the vacuum, scattering debris and corpses from their shattered hulls.
Elsewhere, a frigate found itself caught in the concentrated fire of a lance battery.
Ten sustained energy beams melted the entire vessel into a glowing mass of molten metal.
A moment later, its internal ammunition stores detonated, blasting the remains into countless fragments.
Another destroyer took a torpedo hit.
The antimatter warhead detonated deep inside its hull.
The entire warship burst apart like an overinflated balloon, instantly becoming an expanding cloud of wreckage.
Explosions lit up the void one after another, like some magnificent fireworks display.
Except these fireworks were fueled by the lives of countless people aboard those doomed ships.
The second barrage followed immediately.
Then the third.
Then the fourth.
After just four rounds of coordinated fire, the enemy fleet of more than six hundred warships had completely lost its ability to fight.
More than four hundred vessels had been destroyed, their wreckage forming an immense debris field stretching thousands of kilometers through space.
Over a hundred of the remaining ships still had their hulls intact.
But their engines were dead.
Their turrets had fallen silent.
All they could do was drift helplessly through the void.
Some were still broadcasting desperate pleas for mercy.
On others, soldiers wearing spacesuits were leaping from ruptured hulls, desperately trying to reach nearby wreckage for shelter.
Nobody paid them any attention.
Aboard the Vengeful Spirit, inside the main bridge's strategium, the red markers representing enemy warships were disappearing from the holographic star map in great clusters.
A communications officer rose from his station and struck his right fist against his breastplate.
"Lord Qruze! The enemy fleet has been routed!"
"Four hundred and twenty-three enemy warships confirmed destroyed! Another one hundred and seven disabled! The remaining vessels are fleeing!"
Iacton Qruze stood before the command console, his stern eyes examining the results displayed across the map.
As Captain of the Luna Wolves' Third Company, he was one of Horus's most trusted commanders outside the Mournival.
He said nothing.
After a slight nod, he turned and walked toward the throne on the elevated platform.
His white power armor reflected the cold glow of the holographic projections, and the wolf-head emblem on his shoulder plate seemed almost alive beneath the shifting light.
Qruze stopped before the throne and struck his chest in salute.
"Father."
His voice was calm and crisp, carrying the unmistakable efficiency of a veteran soldier.
"The enemy fleet has been eliminated as a fighting force."
"Our fleet has suffered zero losses."
Horus reclined on his throne, watching the remaining red markers disappear from the holographic star map.
His expression remained unchanged.
Only a faint glimmer of cold satisfaction could be seen in his amber eyes.
"Excellent."
His voice was calm, yet the authority behind it was almost suffocating.
"Tell Abaddon, Torgaddon, Aximand, and Loken..."
"To prepare for the planetary assault immediately."
He paused, his eyes settling on Qruze.
"The Solar Auxilia and Imperial Army will deploy large numbers of soldiers to support the operation."
"The Mechanicum's Titan Legion will also deploy six Titans to assist the assault."
Horus's voice suddenly turned cold, every word as sharp as a blade.
"And tell them this..."
"I expect them to bring Sejanus back to me."
"Alive."
"And completely unharmed."
Qruze immediately straightened his back and struck his chest again, the metallic impact echoing throughout the chamber.
"Understood, Father!"
He turned and marched away, his black cloak billowing behind him.
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