This is the bonus chapter for reaching 100 Powerstones.
--
Northern High City, First Company assault front.
Abaddon stood atop a destroyed bunker, looking out across the open plains.
At the far end of the plain, the High City's enormous defensive walls were clearly visible.
They stood a hundred meters tall, covered in composite armor plating.
Countless artillery pieces and energy weapons lined the battlements.
At the base of the walls, the false Emperor's army had established its final defensive line.
At least one hundred thousand gold-armored soldiers.
Several hundred armored vehicles.
More than a hundred heavy artillery pieces.
They stood in dense formations, every weapon pointed toward the open plains.
A savage grin spread across Abaddon's face.
"Interesting."
His voice sounded over the company channel, barely concealing his excitement.
"Brothers, do you see that?"
"That's everything the false Emperor has left."
"Once we tear through them, the High City is ours."
"And that bastard Sejanus can finally come home alive."
The warriors of the First Company responded with a deep, rumbling battle cry.
Abaddon leaped from the top of the bunker, landing with enough force to kick up a cloud of dust.
He strode toward the front of the formation, drawing his power sword with his right hand and his bolter with his left.
"Terminator Squad."
His voice thundered across the communications channel.
"With me."
"Let's show these traitors..."
"What real destruction looks like."
Thirty Luna Wolves wearing black Terminator armor stepped forward together.
Their footsteps were heavy, each step leaving deep impressions in the ground.
Their bolters pointed toward the city walls, while the power-field generators in their power fists hummed ominously.
Behind them, the ordinary warriors of the First Company began advancing as well.
The white-armored tide surged forward like a pack of wolves descending on their prey, accelerating toward the final defensive line.
But at the rear of the formation, one particular group was behaving very differently.
[Your Salt, My Vinegar] crouched behind a destroyed armored vehicle, his eyes fixed on the Terminators charging ahead.
One hundred elite Chaos faction players had gathered around him.
And why were they considered elite?
Because every single one of them had filled their inventory with premium equipment from the game store.
Lightweight master-crafted power armor.
Upgraded bolters.
High-explosive grenades.
A few even carried portable melta cannons.
And then there were the secret weapons they'd prepared as their ultimate trump cards.
These hundred players were the Chaos faction's strongest force on the entire planet.
Each had invested at least six hundred thousand Imperial Coins into upgrading their equipment.
And every one of them had already proven their combat abilities during the earlier fighting.
"Brothers."
[Your Salt, My Vinegar] spoke over the Wings of Freedom channel.
His voice carried the grim determination of someone prepared to risk everything.
"When the Terminators charge, we're following them."
"Wherever they break through, we follow."
"Once they tear open the defensive lines, we'll bypass the main battlefield and head straight for the false Emperor's palace."
"Sejanus has to be there."
His eyes swept across the hundred players behind him.
Every face carried the same expression.
Madness.
Determination.
And an almost desperate hunger for victory.
"Once we find the delegation, don't hesitate."
"Unleash everything you've got."
"Every heavy weapon you've prepared in your inventory needs to be fired within ten seconds."
"Melta cannons, Whirlwind missiles, plasma bombs..."
"I don't care what you've got. If it can kill something, USE IT."
"Don't be afraid of dying."
"And don't worry about wasting Imperial Coins."
"Our faction will make up for everything we sacrifice."
He paused, his voice dropping lower.
"Sejanus must die."
"The key events of history cannot be allowed to change."
"Horus MUST fall to Chaos."
"He MUST launch his rebellion."
"That's the destiny of our Chaos faction."
"And it's the entire reason players like us exist in this game."
"Understood?"
One hundred voices answered simultaneously over the channel.
"UNDERSTOOD!!"
[Your Salt, My Vinegar] stood at the front of the formation, tightening his grip on his bolter.
He stared at the towering city in the distance, madness burning deep within his eyes.
"Sejanus must die!"
A faint red glimmer flashed through his pupils.
He murmured so quietly that only he could hear himself.
"Victory to the Chaos faction."
--
On the opposite side of the battlefield, the atmosphere couldn't have been more different.
Garviel Loken stood at the edge of a ruined position, looking toward another stretch of the same immense city wall.
Around him, the warriors of the Tenth Company were making their final preparations.
Checking ammunition.
Adjusting their equipment.
Silently awaiting orders.
Loken's gaze crossed the plains and passed beyond the wall bristling with artillery, as though he were looking for something much farther away.
Sejanus.
You have to stay alive.
Please, just hold on until I get there.
His right hand slowly clenched into a fist before relaxing again.
"Captain."
A deep voice spoke from behind him.
Loken turned.
The speaker was Nero Vipus, an elite sergeant of the Luna Wolves' Tenth Company and a veteran who had fought alongside him for many years.
There was a hint of concern on his weathered face.
"You're rushing things."
Loken remained silent for two seconds.
Then he nodded.
"I know."
His voice was calm, but the anxiety in his eyes was impossible to hide.
Vipus said nothing more.
He simply stood beside Loken, looking toward the enormous city in the distance.
Not far behind them, another group wearing Imperial Army uniforms was watching the same destination.
[I Want to be the Imperial Regent] crouched behind a pile of rubble, observing the enemy positions through his scope.
Nearly two hundred Imperial faction players had gathered around him.
Everyone was quietly checking weapons, adjusting equipment, and waiting for the moment to arrive.
"Brothers."
He spoke over the channel.
"Loken's about to move."
"We're following him."
"Protect Sejanus. Eliminate the Chaos faction."
"UNDERSTOOD!"
A chorus of voices answered.
[Loken Did Not Betray the Luna Wolves] tightened his grip on his bolter, his gaze settling on the white-armored figure in the distance.
Garviel Loken.
He silently repeated the name.
Captain of the Luna Wolves' Tenth Company.
A member of the Mournival.
A loyalist hero of the Horus Heresy.
Someone who ultimately died on Isstvan III.
Right now, you have no idea what fate has waiting for you.
But I do.
And I'm going to keep following you.
I'll protect Sejanus.
And I'll protect you too.
It's the least I can do for the Loyalists in this game.
The wind across the plains fell still.
The air seemed to freeze.
The false Emperor's soldiers stationed along the walls appeared to sense that something was about to happen.
Gold-armored infantry tightened their grips on their weapons.
Artillery crews adjusted their firing angles.
Red-robed priests began frantically chanting prayers.
And then...
Loken moved.
He didn't issue a command.
He simply began walking forward.
His white power armor gleamed coldly through the smoke, the wolf-head emblem on his shoulder plate seeming almost alive in the shifting light.
His steps weren't particularly fast.
But there was something unstoppable about the way he moved.
After ten paces, he stopped.
He raised his head and looked toward the towering city.
His lips parted slightly.
His voice was barely more than a whisper.
"Sejanus."
"Wait for me."
"I'm almost there."
The next instant, he raised his right hand and swept it forward.
"Tenth Company."
His voice thundered across the entire communications channel.
"WITH ME."
The warriors of the Tenth Company roared together and charged after their captain, launching their assault against the final defensive line.
The white-armored tide surged forward like a freshly drawn blade, driving straight toward the heart of the false Emperor's defenses.
Behind them, more than two hundred Imperial faction players charged as well.
[I Want to be the Imperial Regent] sprinted forward with his bolter raised, shouting into the channel as he ran.
"BROTHERS! KEEP UP! DON'T FALL BEHIND!"
"LET'S SHOW THOSE CHAOS FACTION BASTARDS WHAT REAL LOYALTY LOOKS LIKE!"
"We're not just keyboard warriors who talk about loyalty online!"
"We're going to prove it to those Chaos idiots through our ACTIONS!"
"When we say we're loyal, we actually SHOW UP!"
"CHARGE! CHARGE! CHARGE!"
--
Meanwhile, north of the city, Abaddon's Terminator Squad had already smashed into the false Emperor's defensive lines.
It was like watching a pack of steel monsters charge into a flock of sheep.
Thirty black-armored Terminators advanced in a single line, their bolters roaring furiously.
Every swing of a power fist crushed another cluster of gold-armored soldiers into bloody pulp.
The false Emperor's troops fired desperately.
Energy beams rained down on the Terminators' armor like a torrential storm.
But it did absolutely nothing.
Beams that would have been instantly fatal to ordinary humans left only faint scorch marks on Terminator armor.
"CRUSH THEM!"
Abaddon's roar thundered across the battlefield.
With one punch, he shattered the turret of an armored vehicle.
Then he reached out with his other hand, seized a soldier attempting to attack him from the side, and hurled him into the enemy ranks like a piece of garbage.
The Terminators advanced steadily, every step leaving another pool of blood behind them.
The false Emperor's defensive lines were as fragile as paper before their overwhelming strength.
But while the enemy was busy trying to stop the Terminators, a hundred figures were quietly slipping away from the main battlefield.
[Your Salt, My Vinegar] led his hundred elite Chaos players around the heaviest fighting, using the confusion to advance rapidly toward the false Emperor's palace on the eastern side of the High City.
They had already equipped their white lightweight power armor.
Enhanced by their suits, they moved with lightning speed, weaving through the ruins and avoiding the false Emperor's soldiers who were still desperately resisting the invasion.
"FASTER! FASTER! FASTER!"
[Your Salt, My Vinegar] urged them over the channel.
"BEFORE THEY FIGURE OUT WHAT WE'RE DOING!"
"GET INSIDE!"
"FIND SEJANUS!"
A hundred figures vanished like ghosts into the ruins beyond the High City's shattered gates.
They had only one destination.
The false Emperor's palace.
The place where the false Emperor and Sejanus were located.
--
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