"...Therefore, resist, faithful worshippers of the star children. Our salvation will arrive soon…"
The words of Magus Genestealer echoed through the Vox systems of the hive cities, now engulfed in chaos and destruction. The Cult had spread to all layers of society, from the Planetary Defense Force to the Arbiters.
Families, coworkers, long-time friends—no matter the allegiance, at that moment, some turned against others. The shock of the population at having their trust betrayed was replaced by fear as mutant creatures emerged from the various dark passages of the hives.
Purple beings with claws, fangs, and multiple arms; others with swollen and muscular bodies, wielding large hammers and pickaxes; and other variations, using stolen weaponry and modified mining equipment.
From atop their towers, the nobility could only watch as their control of the population, built over centuries, collapsed in a few moments. Astropatic messages were sent, but how long would it take for reinforcements to arrive?
Perhaps not long, for those in the higher sections of the cities glimpsed large objects descending from the sky like meteors, heading towards the Harazor Hive.
-XXXXXX-
CRASH!
The clamor of the mutant crowd below ceased immediately as the drop capsules hit the ground like meteors, crushing some of the cultists, burning others with the heat and shock of the landing.
Those far enough away collapsed from the tremor or were deafened by the roar and blinded by the resulting dust cloud. There was a moment of silence broken by the metallic crack of something hitting the ground and heavy footsteps approaching.
The outline of large figures emerged from the dust, revealing themselves as it settled.
"Greetings, I heard there was heresy nearby, so I came as fast as I could!"
Space Marines, taller and thinner than a normal Astartes, led by their Chapter Master and the Honor Guard composed of Terminators.
"THE FALSE ANGELS! WORSHIPPERS OF THE FALSE EMPEROR! THEY ARE HERE TO PREVENT OUR ASCENSION! KILL THEM!"
The Magus's voice returned with more fervor and a touch of fear. No second order was needed for the shooting to begin—lasguns, autoguns, explosives, and more.
It was a futile effort, as each shot was nothing more than a stone colliding with a relentlessly advancing ceramic wall. Neophytes, Acolytes, Metamorphs—all met their end against the Space Marines' blades.
Gradually, they cut their way through the crowd, leaving a bloody trail on the metallic floor below.
A neophyte screamed with all his might, unloading his rifle against the Chapter Master's chest, only to have his multiple eyes widen in horror at the crack of the empty weapon and the fact that there wasn't a single scratch on his enemy.
Whether out of fear, bravery, or stupidity, he drew his combat knife and closed the distance, delivering a swing that never hit its target, as its head was turned into a purple paste with a simple slap.
The Chapter Master grumbled in disgust, shaking his hand to remove the filth, preferring to focus on the equipment of the dead Genestealers scattered on the floor.
With a simple touch, the rifle and combat knife of the one he killed vanished in a green light. Looking around, he saw one of the Terminators splitting a Metamorph in two with the swing of his Power Sword.
Most of that particular creature's weaponry was biological and useless to him, except for the Hand Flamer, which he made sure to collect.
Then the formation continued advancing, surrounding the chapter master and raising their shields, forming a cube around him, protecting him from the explosions of grenades and mortars, each dissipating in a flash upon hitting enemy equipment.
The Space Marine leader was content with the slow advance, collecting more supplies for himself, such as lasguns and autoguns of various models and some unused grenades, all added to his inventory.
Fear began to grip the cultists, as their enemies seemed invincible. Then, with no other option, they began to retreat, passing through the large entrance gate of the complex behind them, which slowly began to close, threatening to leave them with the enemy.
The mortars stopped firing, the roar of the heavy machine guns mounted behind the sandbags ceased, and with that, only one side was left in the blood-soaked courtyard as the gate closed.
Voices and the sounds of equipment being moved inside the massive structure could be heard; a large manufactory converted into a command center due to its infrastructure.
Without windows and with dark, smooth walls that rose towards the sky, preventing anyone from entering without permission, unless facing such a terrifying enemy.
After a few moments, the door opened again, and on the other side was a Techmarine with a squad of battle brothers armed with Bolters and Chainswords.
"Haratekius."
"My Lord."
Exchanging a nod, the Astartes gathered and stormed the industrial complex, analyzing the combat taking place inside. Away from the public eye, the Space Marines and Genestealers clashed; the light from their weapons and explosions illuminated the dark corridors, walkways, and assembly lines that seemed to stretch eternally, shining like small stars.
The Chapter Master looked at the Battle Brother beside him, watching how he fired the Bolter with absurd precision, little emotion, and unnecessary gestures. Those familiar with such a weapon would realize that its noise and recoil were far less than those of a normal Bolter.
"So, Haratek, how was analyzing and improving the Imperial technology?"
"Hmph! I can hardly consider something so diminutive of my effort, but, as you demanded, I improved the Imperial technology using Imperial technology to prevent the possibility of someone opening the weapon and finding something that shouldn't be there. Modesty aside, I believe I created the best Bolters in the entire galaxy, my Lord."
"That I can agree with. You did a great job."
The Techmarine nodded, appreciating the compliment, then both continued their advance, dealing with the fools who tried to stop them.
A squad of Neophytes on combat bikes advanced through the wide passages, the engines of their vehicles roaring as they fired their lasguns, trying to take down those who dared interrupt their glorious revolt.
Each beam of red energy dissipated upon striking the advanced armor, and seeing that a confrontation would be futile, the motorcycle squad split up, clearing a path for the heavy vehicles that came crushing and overturning the machinery in their path.
A Rock Crusher Goliath, accompanied by two Goliath Trucks and three Achilles Ridgerunners. A steel wall of mining lasers and their heavy variant, mortars, missile launchers, heavy machine guns, autocannons, seismic cannons, excavator blades, and cleanup incinerators.
Surely, such heavy weaponry would be enough to turn their enemies to ashes. The vehicle drivers shifted into the nth gear and floored the accelerator, their blood boiling with the desire to avenge their fallen brothers.
The Terminators advanced and formed a shield wall, blocking the rain of destruction sent their way. The chapter master simply extended his hand, now holding a green cube in his palm. He pressed the button and hurled the object toward the vehicles, enveloping them in a blinding light, and when it faded, only the strange object remained.
The Space Marine raised the cube in front of his helmet, observing with satisfaction the new addition to his growing collection.
"ENOUGH, YOU WON'T TAKE ANOTHER STEP, HERETIC!"
The Magus's voice returned, shouting through the manofactorum's loudspeakers, accompanied by the roars of the massive cargo elevators moving. The floor in the center of the complex opened, bringing forth from the depths of the lower levels the elite of the cult.
It was a swarm of monsters: Genestealers of Purestrain accompanied by massive Aberrants and Abominations, Hybrid Acolytes wielding modified mining equipment, psychic Familiars, Sanctus Assassins, Kelermorphs, Benefctus, Genestealer Primus, and more.
Behind this mass of flesh that moved and roared, stood the great Patriarch, accompanied by the Magus and his Locus bodyguards. For a moment, the advance ceased; all the cultists stood still like statues as the patriarch brought one of his claws to his temples, connecting both parts with a thin line of psychic power.
It was possible to see his brain pulsing beneath his skull as the message he wished to convey was dictated by countless mouths in perfect synchronicity.
"INCONSEQUENTIAL FOOLS! YOU ARE POWERFUL, BUT WE ARE MANY! SURRENDER AND JOIN US! WE WILL SHOW YOU WONDERS BEYOND YOUR IMAGINATION! OR FIGHT AND BE TORN APART BY OUR CLAWS!"
There was no immediate response; the Chapter Master stepped forward and spoke.
"Unfortunately, I must decline. I value my individuality; besides, I am sparing you and the entire planet from a worse fate, so I can only thank you all for being in the same place."
At that moment, the cult realized something was wrong. All their elite resources had been diverted to face a small but strong enough force of Space Marines worthy of their attention; however, those before them were not Astartes.
The reality on the ceiling of the manofatorum rippled, revealing gigantic centipede-shaped machines, each the height of an Imperial Knight, but as long as a titan. The large green eye on the front of their bodies gleamed with an intense light, the power of the Exile Cannon being unleashed towards the cult below.
There was a deafening cacophony of screams and roars that ceased in less than a second, leaving behind a scalding molten hole that stretched to the depths of the hive.
"A pity, I wanted to add them to my collection."
"What shall we do now, my Lord?" The Techmarine asked the Chapter Master.
"Now, we will search for the tomb and hope we were quick enough to end the cult before a Hive Fleet discovered the planet's location."
-XXXXXX-
It was a miracle; it could only be a miracle. Amidst the streets engulfed in combat, filled with corpses, destroyed vehicles, and flaming rubble, the defense forces and loyal Arbiters watched as the horde of mutants panicked.
The Patriarch was dead, their divine leader was gone, and with that, the psychic shockwave caused by his death spread through all his followers, now consumed by despair and fear, completely losing the will to fight.
The turnaround was total; the Genestealers had to choose between fleeing or fighting, and the first option proved more favorable than the second. And so they did, traversing alleys and sewers, disappearing into the darkness to return in the distant future.
That same darkness soon faded into a deep green, and the last thing the cult's remnants glimpsed in the depths of the hives was a legion of metallic skeletons and their gleaming weaponry.
Simultaneously, on the surface, a vox message echoed across the planet.
"IMPERIAL CITIZENS, FEAR NOT, FOR YOUR CALL FOR HELP HAS BEEN ANSWERED! WE, THE CHAPTER OF THE PHANTOM KNIGHTS, ANGELS OF THE SACRED GOD EMPEROR OF HUMANITY, HAVE COME TO YOUR AID! WE HAVE ELIMINATED THE LEADERSHIP OF THE TRAITOROUS MUTANTS, BUT THIS IS NOT THE END! THEY HIDE IN EVERY CRACK, IN EVERY SHADOW, SO CONTINUE FIGHTING, RISE AND SHOW YOUR BRAVERY, FIGHT IN THE NAME OF HE ON TERRA, MAKE THESE FILTHY BEASTS REGRET LEAVING THE INFERNAL DEPTHS FROM WHENCE THEY CAME! WE ARE THE CHILDREN OF HUMANITY! WHO DO THESE CREATURES THINK THEY ARE, TO DARE TO CHALLENGE US?! SHOW THEM YOUR WRATH AND WHY YOU ARE LOYAL SERVANTS OF OUR IMPERIUM!"
Then the booming voice of the Chapter Master rang out, urging the population to resist and fight, reinvigorating morale. It intensified when the armored angels joined the combat, causing mortals to gaze in awe as they witnessed, for the first time, the emergence of those they knew only from legends and myths.
ALTERNATIVE SCENE: Goddesses of Victory and a Skeleton PART 2
I pointed my gauntlet toward more of those machines, sending a wave of green fire that consumed their bodies, turning them into a mass of molten metal.
More beings, these in the form of flying spheres, approached, raining lasers in my direction. I wasted no time dodging, running out of the way and raising my staff, sending a wave of lightning toward them, which spread from machine to machine in a web, creating a series of explosions in the air when the charge became too great for them to bear.
Approaching from behind, a kind of four-legged spider the size of a tank tried to stomp on me with its front legs, but with a swing of my glaive, I cut them in two, sending the being crashing to the ground, erasing it from existence with a gauss explosion.
A horde of countless metallic bodies turned the corner, closing the distance like a swarm of red orbs. I raised my staff above my head, gathering power and slamming its hilt into the ground. A wave of ice surged forward, consuming the street, vehicles, buildings, and every robot in my path.
When the attack subsided, the various machines found themselves trapped in a pointed iceberg that gleamed in the sunlight.
I would have liked to take a picture, but I soon had to focus on the fight when missiles came from the sky, courtesy of a spider much larger than the others with launchers mounted on its back.
I activated my hyperphase shifter, leaving reality and easily escaping the explosions until I reached the machine in question, piercing the glowing orb in the center of its body.
The creature went limp and fell sprawling on the ground. I had barely finished killing it when I found myself running again, slowing down time to predict the trajectory of star-shaped flying machines.
They dove towards me in suicidal attacks, exploding against the ground in an attempt to hit me. Eventually I stopped and spun on my heels, pointing my staff at them.
The cylinders on the handle of my weapon floated and spun, sending a barrage of Gauss projectiles in their direction. One by one, they vanished, turning to ashes.
Then I continued fighting, slashing with my swords and glaive, freezing, crushing, electrocuting, and disintegrating with my staff, burning with my gauntlet, and punching and kicking whenever one of those things got too close.
Their weapons inflicted minor damage on my body, but nothing compared to their 40k weaponry. When it was all over, there was a mountain of destroyed robots, with me standing atop it, fully repaired and waiting for the next enemy.
"Anyone else?"
There was no response, so I stored the stack of robots in a Tesseract labyrinth for future analysis and turned towards the general direction of the military base, as the fight had taken me far away, but as soon as the remaining soldiers came into my view…
BANG!
CLANG!
I was hit by a hail of bullets. There was no damage, but I don't know why I expected anything different. I sighed, turned my back, and climbed a building, jumping from rooftop to rooftop until I found Sire again.
"That was an admirable fight, my Lord."
"Thank you, Sire. Now let's take a walk. Make sure there aren't any more of those things around."
"Yes, my Lord."
-XXXXXX-
In a dark room, several people watched the scenes displayed on a holographic screen. These men and women were the highest-ranking members of humanity's united forces, billionaires, military personnel, politicians, and religious figures, all united in leading the war against the Raptures.
Their faces were filled with seriousness and concern. The evacuation of civilians in sector 16-P was a success, and casualties were lower than expected, thanks to the bravery and skill of their soldiers.
The video revealed a gaunt, three-meter-tall mechanical being in the form of a terrifying imitation of a human skeleton, as black as night and covered in strange adornments, symbols, and pieces of gleaming gold armor. A green light shone from openings in its body as its cloak flowed in the wind, and its weaponry easily eliminated hordes of raptures.
It slaughtered humanity's enemies, but the motive was unknown. To protect humans? A ridiculous idea, but that didn't change the fact that an unknown element had appeared on the battlefield; its capture for analysis or destruction had to be immediate.
"Send in the Goddess Squad."
END OF CHAPTER