Chapter 69 - Tears

After several months of silence, the Ultramarines Chapter, like a dormant lion, was finally roused by a message from a distant star system. Inside Chapter Master Marius Calgar's office, the atmosphere was solemn and focused.

"Based on cross-referencing ancient documents shared by the Adeptus Mechanicus and the Inquisition, we have pinpointed the last known location of an important holy relic," Calgar's voice echoed before the tactical table. A holographic star map rotated before him, finally focusing on a remote star system labeled "Unknown Risk."

"A human creation from the Dark Age of Technology, or perhaps even earlier, said to contain some kind of... stable Warp navigation or protection technology. This might offer new insights into the Imperium's current predicament."

The holographic image zoomed in, revealing a 3D model of a planet. It was a beautiful world, covered in lush, glowing forests, dotted with crystal-clear lakes and winding rivers. On the planet's surface, incredibly elegant architectural ruins, perfectly integrated with nature, could be seen, their lines fluid and imbued with a non-human, ancient sense of beauty.

"Aisha's Tears, an Eldar Craftworld," Calgar pointed out the key detail, "The signal of the holy relic is emanating from there, though extremely faint, it has been confirmed multiple times."

The Eldar. This ancient and mysterious race has always had a complex relationship with humanity, sometimes hostile, sometimes... maintaining a fragile understanding in the face of greater threats.

"The bad news is," Calgar's finger traced across the holographic image, where an unsettling, biological-looking shadow was spreading across the planet's surface, "according to recent reconnaissance signals and vague warnings from the Astropathic Choir, Aisha's Tears is currently under invasion by a Tyranid fleet. The scale... is unknown, but the tendrils of the hive mind have already reached it."

The Tyranids. This scourge, existing purely to devour biomass, is a common threat to all sentient life in the galaxy.

The situation became extremely complex. The target was located on a sensitive Eldar world, and this world was being devoured by the Tyranid Swarm. Any intervention would require extreme skill and... luck.

Calgar's gaze swept over the Company Commanders present—Company Commander Cassius of the First Company, Cato Sicarius of the Second Company, Captain Hek Hansen of the Third Company, Orestes of the Fourth Company, Captain Harvis Bel of the Fifth Company, Hector of the Sixth Company, Captain Cassius of the Seventh Company, Captain Sibilus of the Eighth Company, Talos of the Ninth Company, and Orpha of the Tenth Company.

"Our objective is to recover the holy relic, not to wage war with the Eldar, nor to directly confront the Tyranid Swarm," Calgar said in a deep voice. "Therefore, I have decided to dispatch the First Company's three most elite squads to execute this covert retrieval mission: Sanx, Anris, Vidis."

The three squad leaders, whose names were called, solemnly acknowledged the order through their comms.

"Your mission is to infiltrate Aisha's Tears, locate, and recover the holy relic. Rules of engagement: stealthy, swift. Avoid conflict with the Eldar as much as possible, unless they initiate an attack. As for the Tyranids..." Calgar's tone was cold, "Show no mercy; engage and annihilate upon encounter, but do not get bogged down in combat. Your primary objective is the holy relic."

He looked at Sicarius of the Second Company and Hek of the Third Company: "The entirety of the Second Company and Third Company will board the advance Company Strike Cruisers and await orders on the outskirts of the Aisha's Tears system. Should the First Company squads send a distress signal, or if the situation changes, immediately execute a forced insertion for rendezvous or fire support."

"Yes, Chapter Master!" Sicarius and Hek responded in unison, their eyes gleaming with eagerness for battle. Although they couldn't directly participate in the infiltration, their role as a support force was equally crucial.

"The rest of the Companies are to raise their combat readiness, prepared to respond to any chain reactions that this mission might trigger," Calgar commanded finally.

The Company Commanders acknowledged the order, saluted, and prepared to leave to deploy their respective tasks.

"Company Commander Orpha, a moment," Calgar called out to the Tenth Company Captain who was about to leave.

Orpha stopped and turned to face the Chapter Master.

Calgar rubbed his brow, seemingly trying to dispel some fatigue from administrative duties, and asked a question that seemed somewhat out of place with the current tense atmosphere, yet concerned the daily lives of all Astartes: "Regarding the improvements to the nutrient paste... what is the progress?"

Orpha immediately replied, with a hint of relief in his voice: "Reporting, Chapter Master, the Logistics Department and the Adeptus Mechanicus's food processing division, after... uh, after clarifying the mission priorities, have shown extremely high 'efficiency' and 'creativity.' They have already proposed three preliminary improvement plans and are accelerating the production of test batches using cultivation tanks. Initial taste and nutritional assessments are expected very soon."

Calgar nodded, his face unreadable: "Very good. Tell them I expect... at least palatable results."

"Understood!" Orpha saluted again, then turned and quickly departed.

Orders were swiftly issued. In the First Company's barracks, the atmosphere instantly became tense and orderly.

Sanx Squad, Anris Squad, and Vidis Squad—these three elite squads, composed of the First Company's most experienced veterans and Sergeants—were immediately summoned to Company Commander Cassius's briefing room.

Captain Cassius stood before the tactical board, his expression serious: "You already know the mission details. Aisha's Tears, an Eldar Craftworld, Tyranid invasion, recover the designated holy relic." He emphasized the key points, "Remember, this is not a war of conquest. Our objective is that human artifact. Avoid conflict with the Eldar as much as possible; their attention should be focused on fighting the bugs. But if they obstruct... you know what to do. As for the Tyranids, they are pure enemies; clear all Swarm in your path, but do not get bogged down by them. Find the item, extract immediately, send the signal, and the Second and Third Companies will rendezvous with you."

"For the Emperor! For Ultramar!" the squad members roared in unison.

The briefing concluded, and the Astartes immediately began mission preparations: weapon checks, equipment adjustments, tactical planning.

Dorian was particularly excited; he had finally gotten a real combat mission! He eagerly rushed towards the Terminator armor armory, ready to don his beloved Saturnine Terminator armor, which offered unparalleled protection and firepower.

"Dorian," Gaius's voice came from behind him.

Dorian stopped and turned to look at Gaius.

Gaius's gaze was calm but carried an unmistakable reminder: "The Company Commander emphasized 'stealth' and 'speed.' Do you think you can move silently and quickly through an Eldar forest wearing that Terminator armor?"

Dorian's excitement instantly froze. He looked at his calloused hands, eager to grip a Thunder Hammer, and then imagined himself struggling through complex terrain in heavy Terminator armor, as well as the deafening roar of an assault cannon firing... it certainly didn't align with "stealth."

His face showed an extremely conflicted and reluctant expression, as if he were saying a final goodbye to his closest comrade. Finally, he let out a heavy sigh, like a defeated rooster, and walked with his head down towards his standard Power Armor equipment rack.

"Alright, alright... I'll listen to you..." he mumbled, beginning to change into his Mark X Power Armor, which was fitted with extra armor plates, emblazoned with his personal insignia, and equally polished to a gleaming shine. Though not as bulky as Terminator armor, this Power Armor still offered strong protection and mobility.

He carefully wiped the helmet, which featured an aquila-faced design and a golden laurel wreath personally bestowed by Guilliman on its forehead, polishing it until it shone, as if to compensate for not being able to use his Terminator armor. His Thunder Hammer and Storm Shield were carefully placed on an easily accessible weapon rack, and the assault cannon at his waist was checked and fully loaded. He was already eager to use these weapons to "teach a good lesson" to any interfering Eldar and those disgusting bugs.

Luna silently checked her Tech-Sergeant equipment pack and multi-functional servo-arm, ensuring all tools and scanning devices were functioning correctly. Her tasks might include bypassing any Eldar barriers, scanning for the holy relic's signal, and performing emergency repairs if necessary.

Gaius was as calm as ever. He meticulously adjusted his "Hawkeye" sniper rifle, checked different types of Bolter rounds, and calibrated his scope. At the same time, he also hung the master-crafted Power Sword named "unyielding will" at his waist. As the squad leader, he needed to oversee the overall situation and constantly monitor Dorian's status.

Just as everyone was busy preparing, a petite figure burst into the First Company's preparation area.

It was Eilaas.

Her large, green, Eldar-typical eyes were wide, her face full of eagerness and excitement, and she ran directly to Captain Cassius, who was supervising the preparations.

"Company Commander! Company Commander!" Eilaas looked up, her voice clear, "I heard the mission is to go to an Eldar planet? Is it called Aisha's Tears? Can I go? I promise not to cause trouble! I can help! I can speak Eldar! And I can help you operate their equipment! Maybe I can even communicate with the Eldar there to avoid fighting!"

Her small face was etched with the desire of "Let me go, let me go." For her, an Eldar girl who grew up on a human warship, a real, existing Eldar Craftworld undoubtedly held immense appeal.

Captain Cassius looked down at the small Tech-Sergeant, who only reached his waist. His usually stern face showed no change in expression. He did not answer Eilaas's barrage of questions, nor did he even spare her a second glance.

Under Eilaas's expectant gaze, Captain Cassius merely bent down slightly, extended his massive Power Armor-clad hand, and precisely—grabbed the back collar of Eilaas's protective suit, like picking up a disobedient kitten.

"Eh?! Company Commander! What are you doing! Let me go! I can help!" Eilaas flailed her limbs wildly in the air, trying to struggle, but her strength was negligible before an Astartes Company Commander.

Captain Cassius ignored her protests, carrying her with steady strides, and walked directly towards the exit of the preparation area.

"Your post is on the Macragge's Honour, Tech-Sergeant Eilaas," Captain Cassius's voice was unwavering. "This mission does not require a 'diplomat,' nor an unauthorized Eldar equipment operator. Stay here and do your assigned job."

With that, he walked to the entrance of the preparation area, gently placed the still-flailing Eilaas outside the door, and then nodded slightly to the two First Company Astartes standing guard at the entrance.

The two Astartes immediately understood, stepped forward, and politely but firmly blocked Eilaas, who was still trying to rush back inside.

"Tech-Sergeant Eilaas, please return," one of the Astartes said.

Eilaas watched the preparation area door slowly close, and Captain Cassius's unyielding back behind it. She stomped her foot in frustration, her small face puffed up like a steamed bun.

"Hmph! If I don't go, I don't go! What's the big deal!" She made a face at the closed door, but still turned and left dejectedly. She knew that in the face of the Chapter's discipline, any of her clever tricks were useless.

In the preparation area, the small interlude ended, and everything returned to normal.

Three squads of Ultramarines elites were ready. The deep blue Power Armor gleamed coldly under the lights, the crisp sounds of Bolters being cocked rose and fell, and the hum of Power Weapon energy fields was low and dangerous.

Gaius checked the squad members' equipment and status one last time, his gaze lingering for a moment on Dorian's eager face, secretly raising his guard. He looked at Captain Cassius and nodded.

"Sanx Squad, ready."

"Anris, ready."

"Vidis, ready."

Captain Cassius's gaze swept over these loyal and powerful warriors, and he said in a deep voice, "Board the ship. May the Emperor guide your path."

The warriors saluted by thumping their chests in unison, then turned and walked with neat and firm steps towards the passage leading to the hangar. They would board disguised fast assault craft, infiltrate the Eldar world threatened by the Tyranid Swarm, and carry out a covert mission that concerned the interests of the Imperium, yet was full of unknown dangers.

The unyielding will was about to be cast into the xenos' purgatory.

The First Company's dedicated strike cruiser, the Pride of Ultramar, silently slipped into synchronous orbit around the planet Aisha's Tears. The warship's sensor array was fully active, cautiously scanning the planet below and the surrounding airspace, avoiding encounters with any potential Eldar fleet or the main force of a larger Tyranid Swarm.

From orbit, this Craftworld, which should have been beautiful, was now scarred. Large areas were covered by a disgusting, purplish-red biological tissue, like a living mycelial carpet—the hallmark of Tyranids modifying a planet. The once glowing forests were now in many places ablaze or withered and dim, and many of the elegant crystal buildings were damaged, some even covered or replaced by huge, twisted hive structures.

Even more unsettling, fierce aerial combat was unfolding at the edge of the thin atmosphere and on the planet's surface. Huge Tyranid bio-ships, like flying castles, entangled and tore at the Eldar's streamlined, phantom-swift fighters, energy beams and biological acid barrages weaving a net of death. One could even vaguely see, somewhere on the surface, a mountain-sized Tyranid bio-Titan made of chitinous armor and living tissue—a fearsome entity known as a 'Bio-Titan'—wielding massive bio-cannons and scythe-like appendages, fiercely battling several tall Eldar Wraithguards radiating cold psychic light. Each collision caused the earth to shake, and the light of psychic shockwaves and biological explosions was clearly visible even from space.

This was a purgatory.

Inside the bridge of the Pride of Ultramar, the atmosphere was heavy. They had successfully infiltrated orbit, but the chaos below was far greater than expected.

"Signal source location further refined, located in the planet's northern hemisphere, beneath a large Eldar architectural ruin complex, coordinates transmitted to the assault craft," the navigator reported.

"Tyranid Swarm density is extremely high, Eldar resistance is fierce. The assault craft's descent will be extremely dangerous," the sensor officer added.

Chapter Master Calgar's voice came through: "Proceed as planned. May the Emperor protect."

The order was given. Three Ultramarines assault craft, treated for low detectability, like three falcons leaving their nest, quietly detached from the Pride of Ultramar's launch bay, adjusted their posture, their engines spewing blue exhaust flames, and plunged towards the war-torn planet below.

Inside the assault craft, the atmosphere was equally tense. The warriors were strapped into their seats, checking their personal weapons, and through the narrow observation window, they could see the rapidly passing clouds outside and the constantly enlarging, death-filled landscape below.

Dorian looked at the hellish scene outside the viewport, especially the huge Bio-Titan, and couldn't help but smack his lips: "Damn it, these bugs are really big." Then, as if remembering something, he turned his head and asked Luna, who was sitting opposite him, in a gruff voice: "Luna, you said... why did our holy relic come to this Eldar stronghold?"

Luna was adjusting the scanner on her servo-arm. Hearing Dorian's question, her mechanical bionic eye flickered with a faint red light, and her gaze towards Dorian held a hint of helplessness, as if she were looking at a slow-witted student.

"Dorian," her voice was calm, with the rationality characteristic of a Tech-Sergeant, "have you never carefully looked at the trophy display cases in our Chapter's Hall of Heroes?"

Dorian was stunned for a moment, scratching the back of his helmet-encased head: "Trophies? I've seen them, all those xenos heads and weapons..."

Luna sighed, prompting: "I mean, those non-combat spoils of war. For example, those ancient Eldar spirit stone fragments embedded behind force fields? Those ancient devices covered with Eldar runes, their energy long depleted? Or even... some artworks whose style is clearly not human?"

Dorian tried to recall, and it seemed... there really were such things, which he habitually categorized as "shiny xenos junk."

"Uh... I think so..." he said uncertainly.

"So," Luna concluded, "in ten millennia of conflicts, raids, and skirmishes, it's not uncommon for items from both sides to fall into the hands of the other. This holy relic was very likely acquired by the Eldar in a raid or trade at some unknown time and brought back to this Craftworld. It's only because of the current Tyranid invasion, which has weakened the planet's barriers and psychic cloaking, that we were able to detect its faint, dissipated signal."

Dorian suddenly understood, slapping his thigh with a clang: "So that's what happened! These damned pointy-ears stole our stuff!"

Sitting in the front row, Gaius, who was observing the external environment through the craft's sensors, now turned his head. His face, encased in a "pig-snout" helmet, showed no expression, but his voice came through the communicator with calm analysis:

"Luna is right. Furthermore, precisely because this holy relic is currently in Eldar-controlled territory, the likelihood of conflict with the Eldar when we try to retrieve it... is extremely high. They won't easily allow a human relic containing potentially powerful technology, especially one under their 'custody,' to be taken away by us. Prepare for battle, Dorian, but remember the Company Commander's orders: the priority is recovery, not slaughter."

Far from being nervous, Dorian became even more excited. He gripped the Thunder Hammer in his hand and chuckled, "Understood! As long as those pointy-ears don't block me from getting my stuff, I won't bother them! But if they're unreasonable... Hmph!"

As they spoke, the three assault craft had already penetrated the upper atmosphere and entered the more dangerous low-altitude region. Scattered small Tyranid flying units began to appear, swarming towards these unwelcome intruders like a disturbed beehive.

"Attention! Engaging Tyranid aerial units! Gargoyle swarm!" The calm voice of the assault craft pilot sounded over the comms channel.

No sooner had he spoken than the viewport was shrouded by a dark, oppressive mass of ugly creatures resembling a combination of bats and insects! They were the Tyranid's low-level aerial units—Gargoyles! They emitted piercing screeches, frantically slamming and tearing at the assault craft's outer armor with their sharp claws, teeth, and bone spurs on their tails! The sharp screeching of metal being scraped and torn instantly filled the entire cabin!

"Hold steady! Energy shields up! Evasive maneuvers!" The pilot yanked the control stick, and the assault craft rolled and swayed violently in the air like a drunkard, trying to shake off the Gargoyles clinging to its hull. The other two assault craft encountered the same situation, and all three were instantly surrounded by the Tyranid Swarm.

The sound of Bolters firing erupted from the assault craft's defensive turrets, attempting to clear the encroaching Gargoyles, but their numbers were simply too great, seemingly endless.

"This won't do! Shield energy is dropping rapidly!" the pilot reported anxiously.

To make matters worse.

Just as the pilot was fully engaged in dealing with the clinging Gargoyles, a massive shadow suddenly rose from a fungal-covered valley below! It was a Tyranid creature resembling a giant ray, its belly covered in pores—a Harpy!

Its huge, pupil-less compound eyes locked onto the struggling assault craft, and a pore on its belly suddenly opened, spewing a thick, foul-smelling, dark green acid like a high-pressure water cannon, accurately striking the tail engine of one of the assault craft!

"Evade! Hard to port!" the pilot roared, desperately pulling the control stick.

But it was too late!

The viscous and highly corrosive acid, like a maggot clinging to bone, instantly enveloped the assault craft's starboard main engine!

"Screeech—!!!"

A teeth-grinding sound of corrosion erupted. The engine casing rapidly dissolved and smoked at a visible rate, the internal plasma flames instantly became unstable, and then abruptly died! The thrusters and control lines near the engine were also corroded and paralyzed!

"Right engine failed! Control system damaged! We've lost power!" The pilot's voice held a tremor of despair.

The assault craft suddenly lurched, losing balance, and like a kite with a broken string, trailing thick smoke, it plummeted rapidly towards a dense, yet equally war-affected, glowing forest below!

"Everyone! Hold on! Prepare for impact!" A calm but urgent voice sounded over the comms channel, overriding the shrieking alarms and the continuous banging of the Gargoyles outside.

The Ultramarines inside the cabin immediately tensed their bodies and secured themselves according to emergency landing procedures. Dorian let out a low growl, pressing his Storm Shield firmly against his front. Luna quickly retracted her servo-arms, clutching her data-slate.

The other two assault craft attempted to approach and provide aid, but they themselves were hindered by a large number of Gargoyles and spore cannon fire from a distance, unable to provide timely assistance.

A feeling of weightlessness came over them, and the ground outside the viewport spun wildly, growing larger.

"Boom—!!!"

A deafening crash, accompanied by the piercing sound of tearing metal and snapping trees, as the out-of-control assault craft slammed into the surface of Aisha's Tears, plowing a long, smoking, and fiery trench through a ravaged city street.

The crash landing was completed in the most violent way possible.

The assault boat carrying Gaius, Dorian, and Luna crashed into the surface of Aisha's Tears with devastating force. Despite the buffering system and safety restraints, the violent impact still churned their blood and made their ears ring. Thick smoke, flames, and the pungent smell of acid and burning materials instantly filled the twisted cabin.

"Check for injuries! Evacuate quickly!" Gaius's voice, remarkably calm, cut through the pervasive smoke. He was the first to unfasten his safety harness, his Power Armor's servo system emitting a faint hum as it helped him stabilize his posture.

"I'm fine! I'm perfectly fine!" Dorian roared, roughly tearing off his restraints and grabbing the Thunder Hammer and Storm Shield resting beside him. Luna also quickly disengaged her restraints, her servo-arm moving nimbly to scan the cabin's condition while she grabbed her Bolter.

"The hatch is deformed, it can't open normally!" Luna reported swiftly, her mechanical eye locked onto the severely twisted exit.

"Move aside!" Dorian bellowed, stepping forward, shielding himself with the Storm Shield. His other hand, encased in a Power Fist, slammed against the edge of the deformed hatch. All his muscles, aided by his Power Armor, tensed instantly!

"Screech—!!!"

A teeth-grinding metallic tearing sound echoed as Dorian, with sheer brute force, ripped the heavy alloy hatch open and tossed it aside, revealing the chaotic scene outside.

However, before they could clearly observe their surroundings, a cold, murderous aura instantly locked onto them!

Beyond the dust and thick smoke stirred up by the assault boat's crash, a circle of figures had already gathered. They were tall and slender, clad in sleek, colorful Eldar Power Armor, though now mostly stained with grime and blood. Some were Eldar Warriors wielding Shuriken Rifles, their eyes sharp and full of hostility; several others were even taller, heavily armored Striking Scorpions, armed with deadly Power Weapons or Shuriken Cannons. From beneath their helmets, adorned with grotesque masks, emanated the cold aura of battle-hardened veterans.

At least a dozen Eldar standard weapons, their muzzles glowing with psychic energy and their blade tips gleaming, were aimed squarely at the three Ultramarines who had just burst from the wreckage. Any sudden movement from them, and they would be torn apart by concentrated firepower in the next second.

A Striking Scorpion Exarch, clearly the leader, stepped forward with an elegant yet imposing stride. He removed his helmet, which featured insect-like compound eyes, revealing a handsome yet cold Eldar face etched with the passage of time. He spoke, using surprisingly fluent Imperial gothic, though his tone carried the characteristic Eldar lilt and an undisguised hint of sarcasm:

"Astartes Monks of the Imperium of Man..." His gaze, like a cold blade, swept over Gaius, Dorian, and Luna. "At this perilous time, when the Tyranids devour our home, you pilot your warship into 'Aisha's Tears'... What is your purpose?"

He tilted his head slightly, the sarcasm in his voice growing stronger: "Could it be that you wish to 'aid the wicked,' and hasten our demise alongside those swarms that know only consumption?"

His words were filled with distrust. In the long history of the Eldar, conflicts with humanity far outnumbered cooperation, especially in such desperate circumstances where their own survival was at stake. He would never naively believe that these Death Angels of humanity had come to offer aid.

Gaius, Dorian, and Luna stood with weapons in hand, their backs to the smoking wreckage of the assault boat, in a tense standoff with the surrounding Eldar Warriors. Gaius took a step forward, lowering the muzzle of his Bolter slightly, signaling no immediate hostility, but his gaze beneath his helmet remained vigilant, sweeping around.

"We did not come here to be your enemies," Gaius's voice, steady and clear, came through his helmet's vox-caster, attempting to defuse the tension. "Nor do we intend to interfere in your war with the swarm."

"Oh?" The Striking Scorpion Exarch raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Are you here for sightseeing then? Or perhaps, you're lost?"

Gaius's mind raced. He couldn't directly state that they were here to retrieve a holy relic; that would be akin to adding fuel to the fire. He needed to find a plausible excuse, one that could at least temporarily appease the enemy. However, in such a tense standoff, he struggled to come up with a sufficiently convincing reason on short notice. Should he claim to be scouting the swarm's movements? Or searching for a lost contact squad? Such excuses would likely appear full of holes to the Eldar.

Just as the stalemate intensified, the atmosphere grew tauter, and the Striking Scorpion Exarch's eyes grew colder, seemingly ready to order the elimination of these unwelcome guests—

A faint sound, mixed with strong static interference, echoed through Gaius's squad's encrypted communication channel!

"...Sanx! Anris! Can you hear me!... Vidis calling! We... crashed into... the center of the Tyranid swarm! Trying to... break through! Repeat, we crashed into the swarm, breaking through!"

It was the captain of Vidis Squad! His voice was intermittent, with a deafening background of insectoid shrieks, explosions, and the roar of Bolters!

"Proceed with... original plan! Rendezvous at... coordinates! Sanx! Anris! Acknowledge... reply!"

The communication cut off there, clearly indicating that the combat situation for Vidis Squad was extremely fierce, and communication conditions were terrible.

Gaius's heart sank. Vidis Squad had crashed into the center of the swarm; their situation was dire. And Anris Squad... there was no response on the channel. Had they survived the crash? Or had they already... He didn't have time to ponder, immediately responding through the more discreet silent vibration communicator installed in his helmet, at an incredibly fast speed: "Sanx received. My squad has no casualties, but the crash site is within the Eldar Craftworld, surrounded by Eldar Warriors. The situation is not optimistic. Anris Squad has lost contact. Repeat, Anris Squad has lost contact. We will attempt to proceed to the rendezvous point. Good luck."

The brief exchange was completed in an instant. Gaius looked up at the Striking Scorpion Exarch, intending to resume the interrupted negotiation, trying to use the threat of the swarm as common ground to find a breakthrough.

But the Striking Scorpion Exarch had clearly lost patience. He saw Gaius seemingly distracted, interpreting it as the human delaying or preparing a trick. A cold glint flashed in his eyes, and he raised his hand, clearly preparing to issue an attack order!

"Deal with them! We have no time to waste on these humans!" he snapped.

The surrounding Eldar Warriors and Striking Scorpions immediately gripped their weapons, the hum of activated energy fields rose, and a deadly attack was imminent!

Dorian roared, slamming his Storm Shield heavily onto the ground, his Thunder Hammer raised high, ready for battle. Luna also quickly sought cover, her servo-arm's weapon module beginning to charge.

At this critical moment!

"Stop!"

A clear, cold female voice, imbued with undeniable authority, rang out.

Accompanying the voice, a soft psychic glow flashed, and a female Eldar, clad in ornate robes and holding a gem-encrusted staff, appeared like a phantom between the two opposing sides. Her face was hidden in the shadow of her hood, revealing only a delicate chin and lips that emitted a faint psychic light. She exuded powerful psychic fluctuations, far exceeding any warrior present.

The Striking Scorpion Exarch paused upon seeing the newcomer, bowing slightly. Though his face still showed displeasure, he temporarily suppressed the attack order: "Kolesa Witch."

The Eldar Witch, called Kolesa, ignored the Exarch and turned her gaze to Gaius and his two companions. Her gaze seemed to penetrate their Power Armor, looking directly into their souls.

"Put away your hostility, Bishop Karion," she said to the Striking Scorpion Exarch, then looked back at Gaius. "I know why you are here, human warriors."

Her words were direct and certain, startling Gaius.

"You came for that thing, didn't you? That thing you call a 'holy relic,' a human creation, slumbering in an ancient chamber beneath the heart of our city."

She had directly pinpointed their objective!

Gaius remained silent, neither admitting nor denying, but this silence itself was a confirmation in her eyes.

"You cannot take it." Kolesa Witch's tone was resolute, carrying the determination of a guardian. "That holy object indeed contains powerful, stable Warp energy. But when our ancestors discovered it ten thousand years ago, it was almost depleted and extremely unstable. It was we, using Eldar technology and psychic rituals, who reactivated and stabilized it, connecting it to the core energy network of this Craftworld."

Her gaze swept over the ruined but still discernible outlines of the once magnificent city: "Now, it is not merely a relic of you humans; it is the critical core that maintains the energy shield, gravity simulation, and parts of the life support systems of the entire 'Aisha's Tears' Craftworld! Without it, this city will completely collapse within hours. At that time, not only will our remaining kin lose their last sanctuary, but even you... will not easily escape this area surrounded by the swarm."

Her words revealed a cruel truth. The holy relic they sought to recover was the very lifeblood sustaining the Eldar city!

"Now," Kolesa Witch concluded, her tone containing an undeniable dismissal, "while the main force of the swarm has not fully encircled this area, leave here. Return to your warship. There is nothing you want here, only war and death."

She waved her hand, pointing in a direction: "Head in that direction, through the ruins. You might be able to avoid the densest areas of the swarm and reach a relatively safe zone. This is the... utmost 'goodwill' I can offer."

With that, she no longer paid attention to Gaius and the others, turning to Bishop Karion and saying, "Gather all warriors who can still fight. We must hold the eastern defense line; a new wave of attacks from the swarm is about to begin."

Bishop Karion glared coldly at Gaius and his companions but still obeyed the Witch's command, leading the Eldar Warriors who had surrounded them away swiftly, leaving only a few Warriors to monitor them from a distance.

Gaius, Dorian, and Luna stood rooted, caught in a dilemma.

The holy relic was within reach, yet its existence was tied to the survival of the Eldar city.

Forcibly taking it would be tantamount to personally destroying the city, turning all Eldar into mortal enemies, and even cutting off their own retreat under the threat of the swarm.

Abandon the mission? What about the Imperium's expectations and the Chapter's orders?

In the distance, Vidis Squad was locked in a bitter struggle amidst the insect tide, Anris Squad was missing, and the rendezvous point remained far away.

The crisis had only just begun.

After the Eldar sorceress Kolesa revealed their intentions and ordered them to leave, Gaius, Dorian, and Luna fell into a brief silence.

The fact that the holy relic was bound to the Craftworld's energy core undoubtedly cast a heavy moral shadow and unknown risks over their mission.

"Damn it! What do we do?" Dorian whispered, his tone irritable, "If we snatch the thing, this broken city is done for, and we might even get buried with it!

If we don't... how do we explain it to the Chapter Master?"

Luna's bionic eye flickered, rapidly analyzing: "If the Eldar sorceress's words are true, forcibly separating the holy relic could lead to catastrophic energy uncontrolled.

Not only would we face the Eldar's wrath, but we could also trigger an explosion or spatial collapse that affects us."

Gaius didn't hesitate.

He immediately contacted Company Commander Cassius, who was still commanding from the Pride of Ultramar in orbit, via an encrypted communication link.

He concisely and clearly reported their recent encounter with the Eldar and the information learned from the sorceress Kolesa regarding the holy relic's binding to the city's energy core.

Silence lasted for a few seconds on the other end of the communication, then Company Commander Cassius's calm, almost ruthless voice came through, still clearly discernible despite some static interference:

"The holy relic is bound to the Eldar city's energy core?"

His tone was devoid of any emotion, as if stating a fact unrelated to him.

"What does that... have to do with us?"

Gaius was slightly taken aback.

Company Commander Cassius continued, his words unwavering: "Our mission is to retrieve an ancient holy relic belonging to the Imperium of Man.

The survival of the Eldar city is their concern, not the responsibility of the Ultramarines.

Are we to abandon a technological heritage vital to the Imperium just because an alien city might collapse?"

His voice carried the Astartes Monks' characteristic disregard for aliens and absolute focus on the mission: "Remember who you are, Sergeant Karl.

You are the Emperor's Angels of Death, the sword of Ultramar.

Execute the order, retrieve the holy relic.

As for the potential consequences... that is a problem to consider after the mission is completed."

He paused, then added: "Try to re-establish contact with Anris and Vidis Squads, confirm their status and location.

If possible, rendezvous and act cooperatively.

But if circumstances don't allow it... your Sanks Squad must also be prepared to complete the mission independently."

"Understood?"

Company Commander Cassius's words were like a splash of ice water, instantly dispelling the trace of hesitation in Gaius's heart caused by the Eldar's survival.

He was right; the struggle for survival between races was incredibly brutal, and mercy towards aliens could sometimes be irresponsibility towards humanity.

The Chapter's orders superseded everything.

"Understood, Company Commander! Sanks Squad will continue the mission!" Gaius responded in a deep voice.

"Very good.

Keep communications open and report progress at all times.

The Pride of Ultramar will continue to provide remote support." Cassius finished and ended the communication.

Gaius turned to Dorian and Luna, relaying the Company Commander's decision concisely.

Upon hearing this, the irritation on Dorian's face vanished, replaced by a sense of relief and eagerness: "It should have been like this all along!

Who cares if the city collapses; let's get our stuff back first!"

Luna nodded silently.

As a Tech-Sergeant, she understood the potential technological value of the holy relic, and despite her hidden concerns about the possible destruction, obedience to orders was an Astartes' sacred duty.

With the decision made, the three no longer lingered.

They observed their surroundings; the Eldar Warriors who had previously surrounded them had already gone to the city's eastern defense line, led by the sorceress Kolesa and Bishop Karion.

More intense explosions and the screeching of the Tyranids could be heard in the distance, indicating that the battle there had entered a fierce stage.

Only a few Eldar Warriors remained, monitoring from afar, but their attention was mostly drawn to the main battlefield's commotion.

"Now's our chance, let's go!" Gaius barked.

The three immediately moved, aided by their power armor, like three blue specters, swiftly traversing through shattered walls and burning forests, rushing towards the previously set rendezvous coordinates.

Their route required them to pass through parts of the city.

The sights along the way were shocking: once exquisite Eldar architecture lay in ruins, streets were strewn with broken crystals and twisted metal, and the remains of Eldar Warriors and Tyranid units that had perished together were everywhere.

The air was thick with the heavy smell of blood, gunpowder, and the Tyranid's unique, foul odor like rotten honey.

In an open area that might have once been a plaza, they encountered a small, fierce skirmish.

A small squad of Striking Scorpions was surrounded by far more numerous Tyranid Warriors—tall, heavily armored elite Tyranid units wielding bone scythe-like appendages.

The Eldar Warriors struggled, relying on their exquisite skill and the sharpness of their power weapons, but every moment someone fell, engulfed by the swarm.

"Go around!" Gaius ordered without hesitation.

Their mission was to retrieve the holy relic, not to act as the Eldar's emergency responders.

Moreover, getting involved in the battle would not only expose their position but also potentially attract more Tyranids or Eldar attention.

The three used the cover of the ruins, keeping low, and swiftly and silently moved past the edge of the battlefield.

Dorian looked at the battling Tyranid Warriors, a glint of bloodlust in his eyes, but he still forcefully suppressed the urge and followed closely behind Gaius.

While moving quickly, Gaius continuously tried to contact Anris Squad.

"Anris, this is Sanks, respond if you receive."

"Anris, please report your position and status."

"Anris..."

Only the static of dead silence filled the communication channel; there was no response.

Anris Squad seemed to have vanished without a trace, completely lost.

An ominous premonition spread through Gaius's heart.

Just then, the encrypted communication channel rang again, this time with a much more stable signal.

"Sanks, this is Vidis." The voice of Vidis Squad's leader came through, with the sound of heavy breathing from battle, but his tone was steady, "We have successfully broken through the Tyranid encirclement and entered the Craftworld area.

We are proceeding as planned to the rendezvous coordinates.

How are you doing?

Any news on Anris Squad?"

Gaius responded while moving quickly: "Vidis, Sanks received.

My squad of three is currently heading to the rendezvous point.

We have tried to contact Anris Squad multiple times, but have been unable to connect; the signal shows a complete Interrupt."

There was a moment of silence from Vidis's end; he clearly realized the seriousness of the problem: "Unable to connect?

We haven't been able to reach them either.

They might have crashed in an area with severe signal jamming, or..." He didn't finish, but the possibility was self-evident—either they were wiped out during the crash, or they immediately encountered an irresistible enemy after crashing.

"We need to confirm their status," Vidis's leader said, "If possible, on your way to the rendezvous point, look for any signs that might be Anris Squad's crash site."

"Understood." Gaius responded, "We will also continue to try and make contact."

After ending the communication with Vidis, Gaius's concern for Anris Squad deepened.

He pondered for a moment and decided to use private communication.

He directly contacted Lieutenant Golden, who was assisting with overall command on the Pride of Ultramar.

"Lieutenant Golden, this is Gaius."

"Gaius, speak." Golden's voice immediately came through, with the characteristic sounds of various instruments on a warship's bridge in the background.

"We have completely lost contact with Anris Squad, and Vidis Squad is also unable to reach them.

Can you confirm the final crash location of Anris's assault boat through orbital reconnaissance or signal tracing?" Gaius quickly asked.

The sound of Lieutenant Golden operating a control console came from the other end of the communication.

A moment later, his reply carried a hint of gravity: "Gaius, we are trying.

But... the Tyranid's bio-interference field is extremely powerful.

Their scattered spore clouds and bio-static severely distort sensor signals on the planet's surface.

Currently, we can only roughly pinpoint a few areas where Anris Squad might have crashed; the range is large, and the images are blurry, making it impossible to confirm the exact location or if there are any survivors."

He paused, his tone filled with helplessness: "The hive mind seems to be intentionally interfering with our reconnaissance; the current signals and environmental interference are very unstable.

We cannot provide more precise coordinates."

Even the warship in orbit couldn't accurately pinpoint their location... Gaius's heart sank.

This meant Anris Squad had either crashed deep within a Tyranid-controlled zone or their crash site was covered by some powerful interference source.

"Received, thank you, Lieutenant.

We will continue to try and search.

Sanks out." Gaius ended the communication.

He briefly informed Dorian and Luna of the situation.

"Those guys from Anris... could they have..." Dorian frowned.

Although they often competed, as brothers of the First Company, he absolutely did not want to see anything happen to them.

"Now we can only hope they are safe and sound." Luna said softly, her scanner continuously probing the surrounding environment, trying to catch any abnormal signals.

Gaius said no more, only quickened his pace.

The rendezvous point had not yet been reached, the holy relic had not been recovered, their lost brothers' fates were unknown, and they were still in this alien city's ruins, filled with death and hostility.

The path ahead was fraught with peril.

Gaius, Dorian, and Luna, like three blue streaks of lightning, sped through the ruined, ornate streets of the Aisha's Tears Ark City.

The once resplendent wraithbone architecture was now covered in cracks and scorch marks, exquisite sculptures lay shattered on the ground, and the air, thick with the smell of gunpowder and blood, almost overwhelmed any subtle fragrance the city might once have possessed.

They cautiously avoided sporadic skirmishes.

Occasionally, they would see small groups of Hormagaunts or Termagants pouring through gaps in the defenses, engaging in brief but fierce firefights with the defending Aeldari Warlocks or Warriors.

More often, they saw panicked Aeldari civilians, escorted by a few Aeldari Warriors, hastily retreating deeper into the city towards potentially safer shelters.

Fear and despair were etched on their elegant faces, and the cries of children were faintly audible in the lulls between explosions.

The city's defenses were clearly precarious, the Tyranid Swarm's assault like an ever-rising tide, each wave fiercer than the last, threatening to completely engulf the final resistance at any moment.

"Hurry! We must retrieve the holy relic before the city completely falls or the Aeldari are too preoccupied to assist!" Gaius's voice echoed through the squad's comms, laced with urgency.

According to the coordinates, their target—the Aeldari sanctuary housing the holy relic—was located in a relatively central area of the city.

Using the powerful mobility of their Power Armor, the three deftly navigated through ruins and relatively intact streets, choosing concealed routes whenever possible to avoid unnecessary combat.

After passing through a street formed by a broken crystal arcade, they arrived at a relatively open area.

This place seemed to have once been a meticulously maintained central garden, but now it was unrecognizable.

Strange glowing plants were trampled and burned, the central fountain was dry, and shattered pool edges were strewn with shell casings and Tyranid remains.

And at this moment, this garden was transforming into a bloody slaughterhouse.

On one side of the garden, a small squad of Striking Scorpions was fiercely battling a massive Serpent-like Tyranid.

The Serpent-like Tyranid's multiple segmented limbs frantically clawed at the ground, its barbed tail whipping like a steel lash, attempting to entangle and tear apart the Aeldari elite Warriors.

The Striking Scorpions, with their agile movements and sharp Power Weapons, parried its attacks, each clash sparking with fire and fraught with danger.

On the other side of the garden, near a collapsed pavilion, the situation was even more critical.

Two lightly armored female Aeldari Rangers, armed with long-barreled sniper rifles, were covering seven or eight terrified Aeldari children attempting to evacuate.

Their movements were swift and precise, firing controlled bursts at the occasional Hormagaunt that darted out from corners.

However, just as they were about to cross a relatively open area, something unexpected happened!

A shadow, moving too fast to be clearly seen, lunged out from an area of darkness like a phantom!

The creature had a streamlined, dark carapace, long and powerfully built limbs, and a pair of enormous, glowing scythe-like forelimbs!

It was a Lictor! One of the Tyranids' most deadly assassin units!

Its appearance was without warning, and its attack was as swift as lightning!

"Watch out!" One Ranger only managed to let out half a cry of alarm before the Lictor's massive claw, with a shriek that tore through the air, slashed across her back!

"Rip!" The Aeldari light armor was torn like paper, and blood instantly gushed out!

The Ranger screamed and fell forward.

The other Ranger reacted incredibly fast, instantly raising her rifle to aim, but the Lictor was even quicker!

Another giant claw swung like a blur, and with a crisp "crack," the finely crafted Aeldari sniper rifle was sliced in half!

Despair flashed in the Ranger's eyes, and before she could make another move, the Lictor's other claw darted out like a poisoned barb, instantly piercing her gun-wielding arm's shoulder, lifting her entirely off the ground!

The excruciating pain nearly made her faint, but she bit back a scream, simply glaring at the terrifying monster before her with angry and unyielding eyes.

The Lictor brought the impaled Ranger close to its face; on its carapaced head, three pairs of compound eyes gleamed with cold, greedy light, meticulously examining the "delicacy" it was about to acquire, as if savoring the prey's fear before death.

Its maw, filled with sharp teeth, opened and closed, dripping viscous saliva.

The children, protected behind her, let out terrified screams.

All of this happened too quickly; from the Lictor's appearance to the severe wounding of the two Rangers, only two or three seconds had passed.

The Striking Scorpions battling the Serpent-like Tyranid in the distance, though they saw the crisis unfolding, were tightly entangled and utterly unable to break free to help.

Just as the Lictor's deadly claw was about to finish off the impaled Ranger, or turn its attention to the defenseless children—

"Bang!!!"

A dull yet extremely penetrating explosion suddenly rang out!

Unlike the crisp sound of Aeldari shuriken weapons, or the strange hissing of Tyranid bio-weapons, this was the unique, power-and-destruction-filled roar of a human Bolter!

The sound came from the shadows of the ruins at the garden's entrance.

The Lictor, which was about to enjoy its prey, had its hideous head suddenly explode like a watermelon struck by a heavy hammer!

Dark green blood, shattered carapace, and tissue splattered everywhere!

Its massive body stiffened for a moment, then lost all strength and crashed to the ground, its two giant scythe-claws limply releasing their grip.

The impaled Aeldari Ranger fell heavily to the ground, the impact sending a searing pain through her shoulder wound, causing her to let out a muffled groan and her face to instantly turn pale.

She struggled to raise her head and looked towards the sound of the gunshot—

Through the lingering gunpowder smoke and dust, she saw three tall, imposing figures in deep blue Power Armor standing at the gap in the ruins.

One of them held a uniquely shaped Bolter with a long scope, from whose muzzle a wisp of faint blue smoke drifted.

They were human Astartes! Was it them... who saved her?

Before she could process these complex thoughts, the Astartes who had fired had already put away his sniper rifle and gestured to his two companions.

The three did not hesitate for a moment, nor did they spare another glance at the injured Ranger on the ground or the frightened children.

Just as swiftly as they had appeared, they turned and vanished into the shadows of another street, disappearing from sight.

Their objective was clear, their actions decisive, as if that life-saving shot had merely been a casual removal of an insignificant obstacle.

The surviving Ranger watched the direction they disappeared in, her eyes complex, filled with the relief of having escaped death, but also deep suspicion about the presence of these human Warriors here.

She endured the intense pain, calling to the still-shaken children, and quickly left the dangerous area.

Gaius, Dorian, and Luna did not delay for a moment.

Saving the Aeldari Ranger was merely an interlude; their primary mission remained the holy relic.

"Good shot, Gaius!" Dorian praised as he ran, though he admitted Gaius's shot was indeed clean and decisive, even if he personally found it more satisfying to just charge in and smash the monster with his hammer.

"Save time," Gaius responded simply, his gaze constantly scanning the path ahead and the coordinate readings on his tactical display.

The sanctuary was not far now.

However, the overall battle in the city was rapidly deteriorating.

From the distance came an incessant, earthquake-like heavy thudding, the sound of Tyranid bio-titans approaching, each step making the ground tremble.

The sky grew darker, not because night was falling, but because countless Tyranid spore pods were raining down like dense meteors, and swarms of Gargoyles, blotting out the sun, like clouds of death, constantly shooting down and tearing apart the desperately resisting Aeldari fighters from the sky.

Just as they passed through a narrow alley and were about to reach the area where the sanctuary was located, trouble found them again.

A large group of Hormagaunts, seemingly attracted by the sound of the Bolter earlier or their movement, swarmed out from the ruins and breaches on all sides!

These low-tier Tyranid units were individually weak but astonishing in number, surging forward like a tide, brandishing their sharp bone-blades.

"Hmph! Asking for death!" Dorian roared, facing these smaller creatures, he didn't bother to use his Thunder Hammer.

He quickly slung his Storm Shield behind him and gripped the Assault Cannon hanging at his waist with both hands!

"Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump—!!!"

The Assault Cannon's distinctive roar, like heavy hammer blows, erupted instantly!

Dense Bolter rounds, like a storm of metal, poured into the surging Hormagaunt horde!

In an instant, the Hormagaunts at the very front fell in swathes like harvested wheat, their fragile carapaces and limbs no match for the immense power of the Bolter rounds, exploding into fragments, dark green blood and dismembered limbs splattering everywhere!

However, the roar of the Assault Cannon, in this chaotic and noisy battlefield, was nothing short of a particularly loud declaration.

It successfully cleared the immediate Hormagaunt horde but also completely exposed their position and attracted the attention of stronger Tyranid units from further away.

Almost as soon as the gunfire ceased, from the end of the street and above the ruins of buildings on both sides, came heavier and denser footsteps, along with an unsettling, bone-grinding "click-clack" sound.

Dozens of large, heavily armored Tyranid Warriors, brandishing bone bio-weapons or bio-launchers, appeared as the vanguard, leading a surging tide of Hormagaunts and ranged Termagants, forming a destructive torrent that rushed towards Gaius, Dorian, and Luna's position!

The sheer force of it was far greater than any enemy they had encountered before!

"Situation bad! We've attracted a large Tyranid Swarm!" Luna reported calmly, her servo-arm quickly rising, the plasma pistol at its end beginning to charge, emitting a ghostly blue glow.

Dorian, not yet satisfied, put away his Assault Cannon; facing this onslaught, he knew that remote clearing was no longer efficient enough.

He took a deep breath, and instead of fear, an excited and ferocious grin spread across his face.

He heavily shouldered his Thunder Hammer and raised his Storm Shield with his other hand, positioning himself at the very front.

"Good! Let me stretch my muscles!"

Gaius also quickly slung his "Hawk Eye" sniper rifle behind him, drawing the finely crafted Power Sword "unyielding will" from his waist.

The ethereal blue energy field instantly activated, emitting a pleasant yet dangerous hum.

He stood on Dorian's flank, his gaze cold as he watched the surging Tyranid Swarm.

There was no escape; a fierce battle was now unavoidable.

The three of them stood with their backs against a relatively sturdy Eldar building wreckage, forming a makeshift defensive formation.

The blue figures and the boundless purple Tyranid Swarm were about to engage in a brutal clash of power versus numbers on the edge of this shattered alien garden.

Facing the surging Tyranid Swarm, which resembled a purple tide, Gaius, Dorian, and Luna instantly formed a small yet unyielding defensive formation. Dorian's massive body was like a mobile fortress, positioned at the very front. His Storm Shield thudded heavily on the ground, emitting a dull roar, and his Thunder Hammer rested on his shoulder, its leaping electrical energy reflecting the excited and ferocious look beneath his faceplate.

Gaius, like a drawn sword, was on Dorian's flank. The hum of the azure energy field on his master-crafted Power Sword, Aisha's Tears, complemented Dorian's ferocity with a calm yet deadly precision. Luna was protected between the two of them, her servo-arm acting like a multi-functional turret, calmly scanning the battlefield. Her Bolter and plasma pistol were ready to fill any gaps in firepower and eliminate threats.

The vanguard of the Tyranid Swarm, dozens of tall and ferocious Tyranid Warriors, rushed forward first, bringing with them a suffocating sense of oppression! They wielded massive bone blades, barbed whips, or bio-cannons that sprayed acidic spores, emitting piercing screeches.

Gaius's gaze instantly locked onto the three bone-bladed Warriors charging at the forefront. Their movements, which would be lightning-fast to a normal person, were clearly discernible under Gaius's enhanced dynamic vision and combat intuition.

The first Warrior leaped high with its powerful leg muscles, its two massive bone blades, accompanied by a tearing shriek, scissored down towards Gaius's head from left and right! This strike was powerful enough to cleave open a heavy vehicle.

However, Gaius did not retreat; instead, he advanced! With an incredibly swift lunge, he instantly lowered his body, almost gliding along the ground, narrowly passing beneath the scissoring attack! Simultaneously, the Power Sword in his hand arced upwards from below, tracing a sharp blue light!

"Hiss! Hiss!"

With two soft sounds, the leaping Warrior hadn't even landed when its bone-bladed arms were severed at the elbow joints! Dark green blood gushed out like a fountain!

The Warrior let out a painful shriek and fell heavily, losing its balance. But before it could get up, Gaius had already closed in like a ghost, his Power Sword thrusting upwards!

"Pfft!"

The sword tip precisely pierced the Warrior's lower jaw, penetrating its thick-armored skull and emerging from the top of its head! The blue energy field instantly pulverized its brain tissue! The Warrior's shriek abruptly ceased, its massive body twitched twice, then stopped moving.

Gaius did not pause, withdrawing his sword and turning to face the second Warrior. This Warrior held a bone blade in one hand and wielded a barbed, Serpent-like Tyranid biological whip that writhed like a living creature in the other! Seeing its companion instantly killed, it immediately swung the whip, which coiled around Gaius's arm like a venomous snake!

Gaius seemed to neither dodge nor evade, raising his left arm to block! The whip instantly wrapped around his Power Armor's forearm, the barbs scraping against the metal with a harsh sound. Seeing this, the Warrior suddenly exerted force, trying to pull Gaius down or closer.

But Gaius's strength far exceeded its imagination! The moment the whip tautened, the servo-system in Gaius's left arm emitted a low hum, and he suddenly yanked!

The Warrior felt an irresistible force, and its massive body was actually pulled off the ground by Gaius, flying towards him!

Just as it was suspended in mid-air, unable to brace itself, its eyes still filled with astonishment, Gaius's Power Sword had already swept horizontally!

The azure sword light, like the Grim Reaper's scythe, cut a perfect horizontal line through the air!

"Whoosh—!"

As the sword light passed, the Warrior flying in the air, along with the bone blade and whip in its hands, was cleanly sliced into two halves, upper and lower! Its severed remains, accompanied by splashing blood and internal organs, fell heavily to the ground on either side of Gaius.

The third Warrior, witnessing its two companions instantly annihilated in a flash, let out a furious roar and charged at Gaius, wildly swinging its bone blade, attempting to smash him with brute force.

Gaius calmly sidestepped, the tip of the bone blade grazing his shoulder plate, leaving a shallow white scratch but causing no substantial damage. Simultaneously, Gaius's right fist, like a cannonball, slammed the Aisha's Tears Power Fist heavily onto the Warrior's hideous faceplate!

With a muffled "Bang!", the faceplate shattered, and the Warrior's head snapped back, its movements stalling.

Immediately after, Gaius fluidly transferred his Power Sword to his left hand, and his right elbow, like a Thunder Hammer, leveraging the rotational force of his waist and abdomen, slammed into the Warrior's chest carapace!

"Crack!" The chest armor dented with a resounding crunch, and the Warrior staggered backward.

And just at this moment, two agile Hormagaunts seized the opportunity, leaping from the side, swinging their bone blades and pouncing towards Gaius's seemingly exposed right flank!

Gaius had already sensed them; the Power Sword, now in his left hand, carved a dazzling and deadly blue halo, sweeping like a whirlwind!

"Hiss! Hiss!"

The two leaping Hormagaunts were instantly cut in half at the waist, and the Warrior, which had just regained its footing and was in intense chest pain, was also struck again at the waist by this sweeping attack!

After the sword light, the Warrior's movements completely froze. Its upper body slowly slid along the smooth cut, separating from its lower body, becoming two halves.

Without even looking, Gaius swung his sword with a backhand, precisely severing the head of the Warrior that still had its upper body and was still roaring in vain. The massive head flew into the air, and Gaius then lifted his right foot, delivering a sharp kick like a soccer player, sending the head flying forcefully!

The flying head, like a cannonball, accurately struck a Hormagaunt that was darting out from the shadows of the ruins, attempting to ambush Luna, smashing it into pieces!

Compared to Gaius's swift, precise, and dance-like combat style, Dorian's fighting was filled with the rawest, most primal beauty of power.

He had no complex moves, only the simplest, most direct destruction. The Thunder Hammer, which would require an ordinary Astartes to wield with both hands, was as light as a feather in his grasp, and he could swing it with one hand, generating powerful gusts of wind!

"Boom!!" With one hammer blow, a Warrior attempting a frontal assault, along with its heavy carapace and bio-cannon, was smashed into a meat patty stuck to the ground!

"Crack!" With a backhand swing, another Warrior, pouncing from the side, had its bone-bladed arm and half its shoulder pulverized by the Thunder Hammer. Its massive body flew backward like a broken sack, collapsing a ruined wall.

He saw several Termagants hiding behind the Warriors, attempting to spray acidic spores at Luna, who was protected in the middle, and immediately flew into a rage.

"Luna, fall back!" Dorian roared, planting his Storm Shield into the ground. He gripped the long handle of his Thunder Hammer with both hands, raising it high! On the hammerhead, violent electrical currents, like countless blue electric snakes, surged and converged madly!

Then, he slammed the Thunder Hammer onto the ground in front of him!

"Rumble—!!!"

A deafening roar, like thunder from a clear sky! Centered on the hammer's impact point, a thick, visible ring of destructive electrical energy, like a shockwave, instantly spread forward in a fan-shaped area!

"Crackling—!!"

Wherever the electricity passed, the Termagants hiding behind cover, preparing to shoot, didn't even have time to scream. Their carapaces instantly turned charred and smoked, their bodies rapidly carbonized in violent convulsions, eventually turning into piles of smoking charcoal! At least a dozen Termagants were obliterated by this single strike!

Luna, protected in the center of the formation, was the calm eye and precise support of this bloody close-quarters battle. Her Bolter fired in stable bursts, each bullet precisely hitting the weak points of Hormagaunts or Termagants attempting to approach from tricky angles, killing them instantly. The plasma pistol on her servo-arm occasionally emitted a low charging hum, then fired a searing blue plasma orb, instantly vaporizing distant Warriors attempting to gather or their vital organs.

A cunning Carnifex, using the shadows of the ruins and the cover of its companions, silently circled to Dorian's blind spot, leaped high, and its sharp bone axe swung down fiercely towards Dorian's unprotected back neck!

"Dorian! Behind you!" Luna's calm voice rang out, and simultaneously, a launcher on her blessed arm instantly ejected a spherical object, which she accurately threw towards the Carnifex's landing spot.

The moment the sphere touched the Carnifex's body, it erupted with unimaginable heat! Like a miniature sun suddenly appearing!

"Hiss—!"

A blinding white light flashed and disappeared. The elite Carnifex didn't even let out a wail before it was instantly melted and vaporized in mid-air, leaving only a wisp of smoke and scattered ashes! It was a precious individual melta bomb carried by Luna.

Immediately after, Luna quickly identified another gap where Hormagaunts were pouring in. She precisely threw an electro-grenade, which landed in the center of the opening.

"Buzz—!"

The grenade exploded, forming an energy net of deadly, jumping electrical arcs that lasted for several seconds, temporarily sealing off that passage. The charging Hormagaunts collided with the electric net, immediately convulsing violently and falling dead amidst crackling electricity, relieving pressure on Gaius and Dorian's flanks.

The three worked seamlessly: Gaius like a deadly sword dancer, Dorian like a furious Thunder God of War, and Luna as the tech-mage controlling the overall situation. On the edge of this shattered garden, they stubbornly held off the fierce assault of a Tyranid Swarm several times their number, building a temporary death line of steel, lightning, and fire from the enemy's remains and charred corpses.

However, the Tyranid Swarm seemed endless. More screeches came from all directions, and distant Warriors continued to gather. Their ammunition and energy were not infinite; how long could this defensive battle last?

Within the massive hull of the Macragge's Honour, not all areas were as taut as the front lines, with bows drawn for battle. In the relatively rearward technical maintenance areas and some non-core decks, routine maintenance and operations were still proceeding as planned, though the air still carried a faint, Kill aura of a war machine.

Tech-Sergeant Aila Si had just finished analyzing some damaged system data transmitted from the "Immortal Ultramarines," releasing her small frame from the complex control console. She stretched, her nimble eyes scanning the hangar, and saw a clumsy servo-skull moving a batch of standard parts along a predetermined route.

A mischievous thought arose in her mind. She quietly approached the servitor, and while the surrounding Tech-Sergeants weren't paying attention, she quickly entered a few commands into its simple control panel.

The servitor, which had been shuffling towards the correct direction, suddenly began to spin in circles as if drunk, then staggered off in the complete opposite direction from its target warehouse, even knocking over a neatly arranged toolbox with a clatter.

A Mechanicus Priest responsible for this area was immediately alerted, his multiple mechanical eyes flashing red as he locked onto the abnormally behaving servitor, emitting a series of urgent and angry binary commands:

"ERROR! ERROR! UNIT-734 BEHAVIOR LOGIC DISORDER! PATH SEVERELY DEVIATED! JUDGED AS UNDERLYING INSTRUCTION CONFLICT OR MECHANICAL NEURAL NODE FAILURE! IMMEDIATE SHUTDOWN AND INSPECTION RECOMMENDED, MEMORY WIPE AND LOGIC CIRCUIT RECONSTRUCTION IF NECESSARY! REPEAT, IMMEDIATE MEMORY WIPE AND LOGIC CIRCUIT RECONSTRUCTION RECOMMENDED!"

Listening to the irritated binary shriek and watching the Priest frantically try to catch the still-spinning servitor, Aila Si hid behind a large piece of equipment, covering her mouth, her shoulders shaking as she almost burst out laughing.

However, her joy didn't last long.

Two tall and imposing figures, like two moving fortresses, had appeared behind her at some unknown time.

"Tech-Sergeant Aila Si," a steady voice boomed, carrying an undeniable authority.

Aila Si jumped in fright, spinning around to see Captain Harvis Bel of the Fifth Company and Hector of the Sixth Company, their gazes, hidden beneath their helmets, fixed on her.

Captain Harvis pointed to the oddly behaving servitor still being pursued by the Priest, his tone flat but accusatory: "Explain?"

Aila Si's small face instantly fell. She knew denial was useless; the Chapter's Captains were all too shrewd. She lowered her head, poking her two index fingers together, admitting in a voice as soft as a mosquito's buzz: "I... I just... played a little joke on it..."

Captain Hector snorted, his gruff voice coming through his helmet: "A little joke? Interfering with the normal operation of the warship, wasting the Mechanicus Priest's time and resources. Aila Si, your 'little jokes' always seem to challenge the Chapter's disciplinary bottom line just perfectly."

Captain Harvis nodded, delivering his verdict: "Given your repeated disobedience, Tech-Sergeant Aila Si, now, immediately, go to Main Hangar Three, face the east wall, and stand in silent reflection for five standard hours. During this time, you are not to speak to anyone, nor engage in any activity unrelated to your reflection."

Upon hearing she had to face the wall for five hours, Aila Si's small face instantly crumpled into a bitter gourd: "Five hours? That's too long, Captain! I know I was wrong! I promise I won't do it again..."

"Eight hours," Captain Harvis unhesitatingly upped the ante, his tone leaving no room for negotiation. "If you haggle further, or if we find you haven't strictly complied, I won't hesitate to personally take you to see the Chapter Master. I'm sure the Chapter Master, who is in a 'bad mood' due to endless administrative tasks and... nutrient paste issues, would be 'delighted' to personally teach you what Astartes Chapter discipline is."

At the mention of the Chapter Master, whose mood had been exceptionally low recently, Aila Si immediately shivered. She certainly didn't want to face that giant, who seemed ready to explode at any moment.

"I... I'll go right now!" She immediately stood at attention, gave a rather sloppy salute, then dejectedly scurried off towards Main Hangar Three.

Main Hangar Three was one of the larger, commonly used hangars on the Macragge's Honour, and it was relatively quiet at the moment, with only a few ground crew and servo-skulls performing routine maintenance and inspections. Massive Thunderhawk Gunships, Stormraven Gunships, and other smaller aircraft were neatly parked in their respective berths, like resting steel beasts.

Aila Si, following orders, walked to the large, cold metal wall on the east side of the hangar and stood rigidly. At first, she tried to feign an appearance of serious reflection, but after less than ten minutes, her restless nature began to stir.

"Five hours... no, eight hours! This is a waste of life!" she muttered softly, her eyes beginning to dart around mischievously.

She saw a Thunderhawk Gunship, freshly serviced, parked nearby. Its sleek lines and imposing stance reminded her of its valiant charge she had witnessed on the battlefield. Then, her thoughts drifted uncontrollably to a figure she had only met once, but who had left a deep impression on her.

"Oh, I wonder where Raven Lord is..." She sighed, Corvus Corax's jet-black power armor, mysterious beaked helmet, and cold yet powerful aura appearing in her mind. "He's really handsome... much handsomer than these grim-faced Captains in the Chapter all day long..."

Just as she was lost in her reverie of the outwardly cool Raven Lord, the corner of her eye suddenly caught sight of a figure standing silently on the other side of the hangar, near a less-used emergency exit.

It was an Astartes Monk.

He wore power armor, painted in blue and white, which differed from the Ultramarines' deep blue and gold. White occupied more area, giving a more... ancient and austere feel. Moreover, the form of his power armor... Aila Si blinked, looking closely—it wasn't Mark X! The lines were sharper, and the joint design was rougher, full of a certain... retro style. She seemed to have seen similar armor fragments in the Chapter's warehouses, where ancient memorabilia were stored.

Even more surprising to her was that the Astartes' helmet was adorned with a horizontal crest! That was the mark of a Company Captain!

"Huh?" Aila Si was filled with questions. "Who is this Captain? Why have I never seen him before? Captain Cassius, Captain Sicarius... I know all the Captains, don't I? And his power armor is so strange..."

Her gaze involuntarily fell on the shoulder pad of the unfamiliar "Captain." Engraved there was a striking symbol—a stylized, eye-like emblem.

This symbol... Aila Si frowned. She was sure she had seen it recorded in the Chapter's historical documents or in some display case, but she couldn't recall what it specifically represented at the moment. She just instinctively felt that this symbol carried a... distant and heavy aura.

As Aila Si curiously observed the other party, the Astartes in ancient power armor seemed to notice her gaze. He turned his head, his sight crossing half the hangar, landing on the Eldar girl who was alone, facing the wall, but with an unstandardized posture.

When he saw Aila Si, he was visibly startled. Even through his helmet, Aila Si felt as if she could perceive his momentary shock and incomprehension.

Why... was an Eldar girl appearing on the Ultramarines' flagship? And she seemed... quite at ease? In his memory and understanding, while the Ultramarines Legion (his concept still lingered on the "Legion" organization of the Great Crusade and the Heresy) was exemplary in its treatment of Imperial compatriots and mortal servants, it never lacked vigilance, hostility, and even outright destructive measures towards xenos, especially ancient xenos races like the Eldar. To allow a xenos, especially an Eldar, so close to the core warship of the Legion, even wearing a blue and white uniform? This was simply unimaginable!

It seemed... he had been sealed in that cold stasis field for far too long. So long that the outside world, even the mighty Astartes Legions, had undergone such earth-shattering changes. An indescribable sense of detachment and bewilderment surged into his heart.

He didn't dwell too much on the Eldar girl's existence, because it seemed insignificant compared to the tumultuous waves churning within him at that moment. He had just awakened from ten millennia of slumber, learned that the Imperium still existed, and the Emperor was still on the throne—at least, that's what the Chapter Master had told him—but he had also learned of... the passage of ten millennia, and the long-settled yet still bloody outcome of the Horus Heresy.

His mind was in turmoil. Countless questions, countless memories, countless pains and struggles filled his mind. He was about to proceed, as commanded, to Terra, the heart of the Imperium, to meet the Lord Regent, and also the former brother of Warmaster Horus—Roboute Guilliman. He yearned to get answers from Guilliman, to learn the final fates of his brothers, to uncover the truth of these ten millennia of history.

He took a deep look at the Eldar girl, who was still curiously observing him, then turned his head, no longer paying her any mind. He cast his gaze out the hangar's massive observation window, looking at the vast starry sky and the distant direction of Terra, falling into silence. His ancient blue and white armor, under the hangar lights, seemed like a solidified monument from a distant past.

Aila Si watched as the strange "Captain," emanating an aura of antiquity and sadness, no longer looked at her, and she withdrew her gaze, but her curiosity only grew stronger.

"Blue and white armor… ancient style… a crown… an eye symbol…" she murmured, trying to search her memory for relevant information. "Who exactly is he? He feels… so strange."

The punishment of facing the wall seemed less tedious because of this little interlude. Tech-Sergeant Aila Si's small head was filled with conjectures and imaginations about that mysterious Astartes, temporarily forgetting her complaints about the long punishment.

In the deepest part of Slaanesh's Palace of Pleasure, the hall covered by Corvus Corax's shadow domain was no longer a luxurious hotbed, but had transformed into a bloody and cruel gladiatorial arena.

Shadow energy and blasphemous pleasure-psyker power violently collided and annihilated each other, throwing the spatial rules of this area into chaos. The living murals on the walls had long turned to dust under the energy's impact, and the luxurious carpet was torn and scorched, revealing the cold bedrock beneath, inscribed with blasphemous runes.

Corvus Corax, the Raven Lord, like a tireless shadow reaper, continuously launched fatal attacks against Fulgrim. No emotion could be seen on his hideous raven-face, only pure, extreme, icy killing intent. Each swing of his Power Claw carried a soul-rending chill, and each surprise attack from the shadows precisely targeted Fulgrim's vital points.

Fulgrim's perfect violet body was already covered with crisscrossing wounds. Some were claw marks deep enough to expose bone, others were scorched black marks left by the erosion of shadow energy, like burns. Dark green Daemon blood continuously seeped from the wounds, dripping to the ground with a "hissing" corrosive sound.

The few Slaaneshi Daemonettes he had been trying to protect in his embrace had long been dragged into endless darkness by the elusive shadow raven feathers, due to the battle's aftermath and Corax's deliberate targeting. Not even a single mournful wail could fully escape before their fate became unknown.

This made Fulgrim feel… "annoyed."

An anger at having something he cherished, an "artwork" used to please himself, brutally destroyed. This emotion displeased him far more than physical injuries.

"Ugh, ah, ah—!!!"

Finally, Fulgrim let out a shriek that was no longer lazy or mocking, but a mix of pain and fury! The sound was no longer pleasant, but instead carried a soul-scraping sharpness!

His massive, shimmering-scaled serpentine tail slammed violently against the ground, making the entire hall tremble! His six slender arms suddenly spread wide, as if embracing some invisible power!

A chaotic energy, far more terrifying and profound than before, surged like a breached flood from the depths of the Warp, from his essential connection to Slaanesh, wildly pouring into his body!

Under the infusion of this power, the hideous wounds on his body rapidly healed at a visible rate! The scorched marks faded, the torn flesh mended, and even the dripping Daemon blood flowed back! In the blink of an eye, his perfect violet body was restored to its original state, as if it had never been injured!

But this was not the end!

A greater, truly overwhelming aura of a Daemon Prince erupted from Fulgrim like a substantial tsunami! On his exquisitely beautiful, almost demonic face, laziness and playfulness completely vanished, replaced by a cold and cruel rage. The flames of desire burning in his eyes transformed into tyrannical infernos that would incinerate everything!

The shadow domain violently fluctuated under the impact of this power, its edges even beginning to blur and become unstable! For the first time, a look of solemnity appeared in Corax's pure black raven-eyes. He knew that in the previous battle, Fulgrim might not have been truly serious. Only now was this fallen purple phoenix truly beginning to display his power as an ascended Primarch, a power capable of making mortal stars tremble!

Fulgrim's massive serpentine body slowly writhed, adjusting its posture. The Daemon blades and claws on his six arms glowed with a more dangerous, sinister light. His newly "perfect" face turned towards Corax, his gaze, for the first time, truly and carefully falling upon that murderous, hideous raven-face.

An extremely faint fragment of memory, buried under ten millennia of pleasure-dust, seemed to be activated at this moment by the intense killing intent and rage, struggling to surface in his mind.

This face… this fighting style hidden in the shadows… and that deep-seated hatred aimed at him… he remembered.

A long, long time ago, during the Isstvan V campaign, known as the "Great Purge"… there seemed to have been a brother like this. A brother who disliked standing in the sunlight, always hiding in the shadows, silent and taciturn like a raven.

He remembered that this brother's Legion at the time… seemed to have been utterly routed by them? Yes, they fled, like stray dogs, into the terrifying Warp storm, and were never heard from again.

A… loser. A… vanquished foe.

A curve reappeared on Fulgrim's lips, but this time it was no longer lazy mockery, but a condescending, cruel smile, recalling past "glories."

"So… it's you," Fulgrim's voice rang out, no longer nonchalant, but with a cold, viper-like hiss. "I remember… on Isstvan V, that… raven… that fled in disarray."

He tilted his head, seemingly trying hard to recall the name he had long forgotten, but ultimately gave up. The name was unimportant; a loser's name wasn't worth his effort to remember.

"It seems that ten millennia of wandering haven't taught you humility, but instead made you even more… ugly and reckless," Fulgrim's gaze swept over Corax's inhuman raven-face, his tone filled with disgust. "How dare you invade my palace, destroy my treasured possessions… you deserve ten thousand deaths!"

Before his words finished, Fulgrim's massive figure vanished from the spot! Not the mysterious merging into shadows like Corax, but by sheer absolute speed, leaving behind a sonic boom-like afterimage!

The next moment, he had already appeared above Corax's head! Four of his six arms, each gripping a Daemon blade or claw, descended upon Corax like a furious storm, carrying the power to tear space! The other two arms were like venomous snakes poised to strike, blocking all of Corax's possible escape routes!

The true battle now officially began!

The power of an ascended Primarch was displayed to its fullest! His strength, speed, and mastery of combat techniques had all elevated to a new, desperate level!

Corax's pupils contracted sharply, and his Power Claws crossed to block!

"Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom—!!!"

A dense, drum-like series of impacts instantly exploded! Each collision erupted with dazzling energy sparks and shockwaves! The ground beneath Corax's feet cracked inch by inch, and he was continuously forced backward by the terrifying force, the servo-systems in his arms humming under the strain!

Fulgrim's attacks were not only immensely powerful, but also contained pleasure-psyker power that twisted the mind. Within the seductive gleam of his blades and the blur of his claws, countless tempting whispers and illusions seemed to try to corrupt Corax's will, making him sink, making him abandon resistance, and instead embrace the ultimate sensory stimulation.

Cold light burst from Corax's pure black raven-eyes, and the power of shadows frantically circulated within his body, forcibly dispelling the mental erosion. His figure sometimes solidified, meeting attacks head-on; other times, he transformed into shadow, attempting to escape the furious onslaught. His Power Claws were like a dance of death, each swing carrying a resolute intent to kill, searching for gaps in Fulgrim's defense.

Their figures rapidly intertwined, collided, and separated within the shadow domain. Fulgrim's face constantly shifted during the battle, sometimes beautiful as a deity, with a cruel smile; other times twisted like a fiend, covered in hideous veins and protruding bone spurs, revealing another side of his corrupted essence. He would tear this "ugly" raven, who dared to challenge him and destroy his pleasures, into shreds, using his wails and soul to compensate for his "losses"!

The intensity of the battle far surpassed anything before! The entire shadow-covered hall trembled and disintegrated under the aftermath of their power!

However, beyond this bloody battlefield, in a dimension of the Warp's essence, immeasurable by distance.

A pair of eyes, or rather, a pure "perception" that transcended the concept of "seeing," silently "watched" everything that unfolded here.

That was Slaanesh. The Lord of Pleasure and Pain, the God of Excess.

In His incomprehensible consciousness, this life-and-death struggle occurring in the heart of His palace was not a threat to His existence, nor a major event warranting His personal intervention.

It was merely a… slightly intense "squabble" between one of His most beloved and beautiful creations—that purple serpentine phoenix—and a somewhat special raven from the shadows that had accidentally trespassed.

Perhaps the pain, anger, killing intent, and ultimate destruction that this battle brought could itself provide a… different kind of "pleasure"?

He indifferently "watched," as if appreciating a struggle between two rare and exotic birds in His own exquisite birdcage.

No favoritism, no intervention.

Only a detached, almost imperceptible "anticipation" of the… new "experience" that the unfolding "outcome" might bring.