Chapter 70 - Cooperation

Dorian's Thunder Hammer struck for the last time, smashing the head, covered in thick carapace, and half the chest of the last stubbornly resisting Tyranid Warrior into a bloody pulp embedded in the ground. He breathed heavily, not from exhaustion, but from the exhilaration of battle. The edge of his Storm Shield was covered in viscous dark green and dark purple blood, slowly dripping down its curved surface.

Gaius flicked his Power Sword "unyielding will", shaking off non-existent grime, its ethereal blue energy field still humming steadily. His gaze swept around; the garden's edge was already covered in a thick layer of Tyranid limbs and torsos, and the air was filled with a strong smell of char, acid, and the unique stench of Tyranid blood.

"Cleanup complete," Luna's calm voice announced. Her servo-arm retracted, the barrel of her plasma pistol still radiating faint heat. She glanced at her tactical display. "New Tyranid units are approaching from the rear, unknown in number, but moving very fast."

"We cannot linger," Gaius immediately decided. "Luna, block the path!"

Luna nodded, her servo-arm quickly retrieved a spherical melta bomb from her utility belt and accurately threw it in the direction they had come from, the gap where the Tyranid swarm was most likely to pour in.

The melta bomb landed in the narrow pass of the ruins, and after a brief delay—

"Boom!!"

A muffled explosion, not earth-shattering, yet it unleashed unimaginable high temperatures! A blinding white light illuminated the area, followed by a gush of scorching, lava-like viscous material that quickly covered the pass, melting and bonding rocks and metal debris together, forming a temporary but extremely effective barrier of fire and lava. The scorching hot air even made Gaius and the others, dozens of meters away, feel hot.

The vanguard of the approaching Tyranid swarm crashed into this sudden wall of lava, instantly turning into smoke and char in the high heat. The subsequent swarm was also temporarily blocked by this terrifying temperature.

"Go!" Gaius roared. The three of them, without hesitation, immediately turned and sprinted towards their final objective—the Eldar sanctuary where the holy relic was housed.

For the last less than a kilometer, they traversed through an even more dilapidated and dangerous urban area. Above them, spore sacs continuously fell, and Gargoyles and Eldar fighter jets clashed. Beneath their feet, the ground shook incessantly, and the distant footsteps of bio-Titans struck like a death knell in the hearts of every survivor.

When they finally reached the area of the sanctuary, the sight before them caused even a resolute mind like Gaius's to sink.

The sanctuary itself was a magnificent wraithbone structure, somewhat damaged by the war, but its main structure remained intact, radiating a faint psychic glow, like a final lighthouse in this ruin. However, around the sanctuary at this moment, it was no longer a tranquil holy place.

Large numbers of Eldar civilians—pale-faced elders, terrified and helpless women, and many weeping children—crowded the plaza in front of the sanctuary and the surrounding ruins, their faces etched with despair and fear. Eldar Warriors, robe-clad Warlocks, and agile Rangers had built a crude but layered defense line around the sanctuary, with vehicle wreckage and temporary psychic barriers forming the last line of resistance.

Clearly, this sanctuary, along with the energy core beneath it, had become the last refuge and hope for the city's remaining populace.

Gaius immediately spotted Warlock Kolesa, busily directing the crowds. Her once magnificent robe was covered in dust and bloodstains, and her face showed undeniable fatigue, but her eyes remained firm as she loudly directed Striking Scorpions and Eldar Warriors, guiding more civilians into the sanctuary and organizing everyone who could still fight, distributing weapons, and reinforcing the defenses.

When she looked up and her gaze met that of Gaius and his two companions, who had just arrived at the outer perimeter of the defense line, the fatigue in her eyes was instantly replaced by an uncontrollable fury!

She immediately parted the crowd and strode to the edge of the defense line, glaring at Gaius through the nervous Eldar Warriors who had raised their weapons, her voice trembling with agitation and anger:

"You! How dare you come here?!"

Her voice, clear even amidst the chaotic sounds of battle, was filled with grief and accusation:

"Look around! Humans! Look at this dying city! Look at these lives, which in your eyes might be 'aliens,' but are equally flesh and blood, capable of fear and pain! Their numbers are still in the tens of millions!"

She pointed to the civilians huddled together, looking with fearful eyes at the Astartes giants, and to the Eldar Warriors at various points along the defense line, preparing to meet the Tyranid swarm with a desperate will.

"Our Warriors are fighting to the death with blood and lives for the continuation of our race against this Tyranid catastrophe! You, the powerful Astartes of the Imperium of Man, not only have failed to offer even a shred of help in the face of this common threat, but instead... instead, at this final moment, you seek to kick us when we're down! To mercilessly snatch away our... the last hope of these tens of millions of lives?!"

Her accusation, like a heavy hammer, struck the air. Even Dorian, who usually had little fondness for aliens, looked at the apocalyptic scene and the terrified civilians before him, and unconsciously tightened his grip on his Thunder Hammer, but said nothing.

Gaius was silent. He removed his "pig-snout" helmet, adorned with a laurel, revealing his resolute and handsome face, now etched with complex emotions. He gently placed his Power Sword on the ground beside his feet, indicating a temporary, non-aggressive stance.

"Lady Kolesa," Gaius's voice was still steady, but it had lost some of its previous coldness, gaining a subtle hint of gravity. "We... did not come to bring destruction. We are following orders."

He tried to find a possible compromise: "I understand your current predicament. Perhaps... we can request instructions from our superiors. After you... overcome your current difficulties, then we..."

"Enough!"

Warlock Kolesa sharply interrupted him, her face filled with extreme disgust and distrust for such "hypocrisy" and "scheming" from humans.

"Instructions? Waiting? What beautiful lies! Humans, I have long seen through your true nature! Shameless! Heartless! For your so-called 'Imperial interests,' you can sacrifice the existence of any alien race without hesitation! For ten millennia, you have always been like this!"

Her gaze was as sharp as a blade, as if to pierce Gaius's heart: "You will not take this holy relic! It is already intertwined with the fate of Aisha's Tears! To take it, you must step over all of our corpses! Now, before we change our minds, leave this place immediately! Otherwise, I won't mind eliminating you, these thorns in our backs, before confronting the swarm!"

Her stance was utterly unyielding, leaving no room for negotiation.

Gaius looked at Warlock Kolesa's body, trembling slightly with anger and despair, at the Eldar Warriors behind her, who, though fearful, still clutched their weapons, and at the countless pairs of eyes further away, filled with despair and supplication.

He took a deep breath. The "courtesy" phase of diplomacy had ended.

He picked up the Power Sword he had just laid down, but did not immediately raise it. His gaze once again became sharp and cold, and his voice regained its previous composure and resolve:

"Lady Kolesa, I understand your position. But I must also reiterate our mission."

He raised a hand and pointed to the sky, stained dark red by the war.

"In orbit above, three strike cruisers belonging to the Ultramarines Chapter are currently hovering. They are armed with macro-cannons and cyclonic torpedoes capable of utterly eradicating this area from the planet's surface."

His tone was calm, yet carried an undeniable weight.

"Furthermore, the main fleet of the Ultramarines can respond to a summons and arrive in this star system at any time."

He paused, not uttering the most cruel consequence, but the implication of the threat, like tangible ice, permeated the air between them.

"If..."

He said no more. But the possibility after that "if" was clear to every Eldar—if they persisted in obstructing, then humanity would not hesitate to proceed, with devastating orbital bombardment, to personally turn this last refuge, along with all the Eldar civilians and Warriors within it, into cosmic dust. In human eyes, the survival of an alien race, compared to a holy relic that might be vital to the Imperium, the answer of which was more important seemed self-evident.

Hearing Gaius's naked, undisguised threat of force, the color instantly drained from Warlock Kolesa's beautiful but weathered face. Her body swayed, as if struck by an invisible heavy blow.

She looked at Gaius's cold and resolute gaze, at the silent but imposing figures of the other two Astartes, and then back at her people behind her, trembling in desperation and placing their last hope in the sanctuary... An unprecedented sense of powerlessness and sorrow, like a cold tide, instantly overwhelmed her heart.

She poured her heart and soul into the survival of her people, fighting alongside her Warriors until the very last moment. She thought facing the Tyranids was the ultimate despair... yet, she never expected that at this final juncture, the most fatal blow to her and her people would come from these incomparably ruthless "Angels of Death," who called themselves "humans."

She slowly closed her eyes.

A crystal-clear tear, mixed with endless exhaustion, anger, despair, and sorrow, uncontrollably slipped from beneath her long eyelashes, tracing a clear wet path down her smoke and dust-stained cheek.

This tear, as if weighing a thousand pounds, fell upon the scorched earth below, and also upon the cruel reality of racial survival.

Warlock Kolesa felt a sudden dizzying sensation, her vision darkening. Long hours of frontline command, overdrawing her stamina to maintain the defensive line, coupled with the immense shock of human treachery and the pressure of her race's survival, finally pushed her already exhausted body and mind to their limit. Her body went limp, and she began to fall backward.

"Warlock Kolesa!"

Two Striking Scorpions who had been guarding her immediately stepped forward, their heavily armored arms steadily supporting her weak body. Their gaze towards Calgar and his two companions was filled with almost overflowing rage and hatred, but at this moment, protecting the weakened Warlock was a higher priority.

Calgar watched the tear of despair slide from Kolesa's eye, and her weak figure being supported by a Warrior. His brow, hidden beneath his helmet, furrowed slightly. In that instant, Eilaas's small face, always bearing a vibrant and cunning smile, flashed through his mind. If... if Eilaas were also in such a desperate situation... But he quickly forced down this untimely thought. He was an Ultramarine, an Astartes Monk; his duty was to obey orders and complete the mission. Personal emotions and pity had to give way before the interests of the race and the Imperium. This was a creed etched into their very bones from the day they became Space Marines.

He re-donned the helmet, a symbol of honor and duty, concealing his resolute face behind the cold metal. His voice, transmitted through the vox-caster, regained absolute calm and decisiveness:

"Let's go."

Without any superfluous words, he waved his hand, signaling Dorian and Luna to follow. The three ignored the fearful, hateful, and pleading gazes of the surrounding Eldar civilians, ignored the fiery stares of the Eldar Warriors along the defensive line, and with heavy, determined steps, walked directly towards the tightly shut, faintly glowing great doors of the Sanctuary.

They knew clearly that once the holy relic, which served as the energy core, was removed, the system sustaining the last vestiges of life in this Craftworld city would instantly collapse. Gravity simulation would fail, the atmosphere would dissipate, and the energy barrier would crumble... This massive Wraithbone structure would disintegrate in space or be torn apart by the planet's gravity, and the tens of millions of Eldar lives upon it, both Warriors and civilians, would face utter annihilation.

Their hearts, even as genetically modified superhumans whose emotions were deliberately suppressed, were not entirely cold and unfeeling. A faint, almost imperceptible current of "human" instinct—pity and a sense of gravity—occasionally flickered through them. Dorian watched the crying Eldar children, his heavy breathing echoing inside his helmet; Luna's bionic eye scanned the trembling civilians supporting each other, and her data processing speed seemed to slow for a moment.

But they did not stop.

They were Warriors. Obedience to orders was a Warrior's highest calling, an absolute law inscribed in their gene-seed. Chapter Master Marius Calgar's command was clear and unambiguous: recover the holy relic. Company Commander Cassius's instruction was unequivocal: the survival of the Eldar city was irrelevant to the mission.

They had no choice. The interests of the Imperium superseded the survival of any xenos race.

Just as they were about to reach the Sanctuary doors, and Luna had already taken out the small but extremely stable stasis field generator—specifically designed for storing high-risk relics—from her Tech-Sergeant equipment pack, preparing to bypass the psychic lock on the door—

"Stop!"

A furious and resolute roar, like a clap of thunder, exploded before them!

The Striking Scorpion Exarch, Karion, who had confronted Calgar earlier, stood like an iron mountain that had suddenly risen from the ground, blocking the Sanctuary doors with over a dozen scarred but murderous Striking Scorpions!

Bishop Karion's ornate armor was covered in deep claw marks and acid burns, stained with the viscous, dark green and purple blood of the Tyranids. In some places, it was even faintly smoking. The Power Sword in his hand was activated, its psychic field emitting a sharp hum, and its tip pointed directly at Calgar's chest, a stance filled with an unyielding determination to fight!

"Humans! You shall not take another step!" Bishop Karion's voice, distorted through his helmet, was hoarse with extreme, suppressed rage, "To defile our Sanctuary, to steal our last hope, you will have to step over our corpses!"

The Striking Scorpions behind him all took a step forward, their power weapons glowing, forming a steel bulwark forged of determination and death. They might not be able to withstand orbital bombardment, but at this moment, they would use their lives to buy their people behind them a sliver of slim hope for survival, or... a dignified end.

Calgar faced the battle blade pointed at his chest without any retreat. He slowly raised the master-crafted Power Sword, "unyielding will," in his hand, its ethereal blue energy field reflecting and opposing the psychic glow of the opponent's blade. At the same time, the "Eilaas" pattern Power Fist on his left arm emitted a low, powerful charging hum, like a steel behemoth poised to strike.

"Move aside." Calgar's voice, cold as iron, came through his helmet, devoid of any emotion, "This is your final warning."

"Damn xenos!" Dorian could no longer hold back. He slammed his Thunder Hammer onto his shoulder, his Storm Shield striking the ground with a resounding *clang*, and roared at the Striking Scorpions: "Those who block the way die! Get out!"

Luna said nothing, but the actions of her bionic arm spoke volumes—she quickly grabbed a cylindrical melta bomb from her equipment belt, her finger hovering over the detonator. The terrifying power of melta weapons was enough to instantly vaporize the strongest armor and psychic barriers. Her meaning was clear: if words failed, she wouldn't hesitate to "open" the path to the Sanctuary by the most extreme means.

The atmosphere instantly tightened to its extreme!

On one side were three elite Astartes, armed to the teeth and determined to carry out their orders; on the other, over a dozen Eldar elites, resolved to die, guarding their last hope.

Swords were drawn, bows were strung, and killing intent permeated the air!

Battle seemed poised to erupt in the next second! Blood and death were about to stain the entrance of this last refuge!

However, at this critical juncture—

"Whoosh—boom!!"

"Hiss-ga—!!!"

From the outer perimeter of the Sanctuary's defensive line, there suddenly came a rain of Eldar shuriken weapon fire, explosions, and the Tyranids' characteristic, hair-raising, frenzied hissing and shrieking! The sounds, growing from distant to near, surged like a tsunami!

The main force of the Tyranid swarm had finally breached the outer layers of interception and launched a full-scale assault on this last Eldar stronghold!

"Report! Eastern defensive line breached! Large numbers of Warriors mixed with Termagants are pouring in!"

"West side needs support! Gargoyles have appeared!"

"Air units! Watch out for spore mines!"

Panicked shouts and even more intense sounds of combat instantly filled the entire area!

Warlock Kolesa, who had just been helped aside and was barely managing not to faint, heard the sound of the full-scale attack, like a death knell, and her face grew even paler. Fighting off dizziness and weakness, she forcefully pushed away the Warriors supporting her and, with all her strength, shrieked at the chaotic defensive line and the panicked civilians:

"Hold! Everyone! Hold the line! For Aisha's Tears! For our people!"

"Quick! Everyone into the Sanctuary! Quick!!!"

Her voice was so faint amidst the explosions and hissing, yet it carried a heartbreaking resolve.

The Eldar Warriors could no longer spare a thought for the three human Astartes at the door. They all turned, roaring as they charged towards the breaches in the defensive line, forming a wall of flesh and weapons to try and stem the destructive purple tide. The civilians let out even more terrified cries, like a startled flock, desperately surging towards the Sanctuary doors, even jostling Bishop Karion and the Striking Scorpions who were blocking the entrance.

The previously imminent standoff between humans and Eldar was temporarily interrupted by this sudden, larger, and more direct existential crisis.

Calgar, Dorian, and Luna stood rooted to the spot, watching the chaotic scene unfold before them, like hell itself had descended. They watched the Eldar Warriors fall one by one amidst the swarm, and the civilians running and wailing in despair.

Their mission objective was within reach.

But the path to that objective was now blocked by the inferno of war, and... a cruel choice of racial destiny, concerning the survival of tens of millions of souls.

In front of the Sanctum, chaos erupted like a volcano. The Tyranids' full-scale assault was a purple tide of death, relentlessly crashing against the Eldar's crumbling final defense.

The shriek of shuriken weapons, the hum of power weapons, the roar of explosions, and the mind-numbing screeches of the swarm intertwined into a symphony of destruction.

Eldar warriors fell one by one like moths to a flame in the tide of bugs, sacrificing their lives to buy a minuscule amount of time for the civilians to evacuate.

Civilians cried, pushed, and surged into the relatively safe gates of the Sanctum like a breaking dam.

Sergeant Karl, Dorian, and Luna stood at the entrance to this inferno, like three blue reefs, enduring the Impact of the chaotic tide.

Their objective—the relic deep within the Sanctum that sustained everything—was within reach, yet it seemed to be separated by a bloody chasm paved with countless Eldar lives.

Sergeant Karl's face, hidden beneath his helmet, was filled with struggle at this moment.

Data streams of collapsing outer defenses constantly flashed across his tactical display, and his auditory sensors were filled with the dying wails of Eldar civilians and the final roars of warriors.

He was an Imperial Astartes Sergeant, a war machine rigorously trained with emotions deliberately suppressed.

Completing the mission, retrieving the relic—this should have been the unquestionable, unthinking sole option.

Company Commander's cold words—"What does that have to do with us?"—echoed in his mind like cold program instructions.

But... he was also a human being.

A living person with the ability to think independently, with memories and emotions.

He looked at the crying faces of the panicked Eldar children, similar to human children; he watched the Eldar elders, who should have been graceful and long-lived, now trembling in despair like candles in the wind; he saw the weak figure of the Warlock Koryssa, still trying to organize resistance, with tear stains at the corners of her eyes...

He thought of Eilaas. If Eilaas were here, what would she think? What would she want him to do?

An unprecedented, heavy sense of guilt, like an invisible shackle, wrapped around his heart, making it almost impossible for him to breathe.

Was he really... going to personally press the button for the destruction of tens of millions of lives for that cold relic?

Just as he struggled internally, with reason fiercely battling that faint but stubborn humanity, a voice from the encrypted communication channel temporarily broke his struggle.

"Sanx, this is Vidis." The voice of Vidis's squad leader came through, with obvious gasps and the background sound of weapon fire, "We encountered an Executioner, Aulus is injured, left leg penetrated, but we've shaken it off and are heading towards your position. How are you? Have you entered the Sanctum?"

Vidis's squad had also encountered a strong enemy and suffered casualties. But they were still holding on, still moving towards their objective.

"Received, Vidis. We are at the Sanctum entrance. The situation is complex, the Tyranid swarm has launched a full assault, and the Eldar are retreating. Be careful." Sergeant Karl replied quickly, forcing himself to pull his attention back to the mission itself.

However, just as the communication with Vidis ended, another channel, which had almost been deemed lost, suddenly transmitted a faint and urgent signal, mixed with huge interference noise!

"...San...ks!...Can you...hear me?!...Anris...calling!"

It was Anris's squad!

Sergeant Karl's spirits lifted, and he immediately tried to stabilize the communication: "Anris! This is Sanx! Report your situation and location!"

"...We...crashed in...the center...of the Tyranid swarm!" Anris's squad leader's voice was intermittent, with the deafening, seemingly close-by screeching of the swarm and the frantic Bolter fire in the background, clearly in an extremely fierce battle, "...Endless...bugs!...Surrounded us!...We...will try...to break through...and head...to rendezvous..."

Before he could finish, the communication signal was suddenly cut off as if by an invisible hand, once again falling into a dead silence of static.

Vidis's squad was wounded, Anris's squad was trapped in the center of the Tyranid swarm, their fate uncertain, and the hope of breaking through was slim...

The bad news and perilous situation of his brothers, like the last straw, crushed the wavering balance in Sergeant Karl's heart.

No more hesitation!

He could no longer be held back by the survival of these xenos!

His brothers were bleeding, sacrificing themselves!

For the mission, for the Imperium, and for Anris's squad who might still be fighting hard somewhere, he had to get the relic as soon as possible and end all this!

"...It has nothing to do with me...It has nothing to do with me..." Sergeant Karl muttered Company Commander's cold words repeatedly, as if imposing a psychological shackle on himself, forcibly stripping and sealing away the pity and sympathy that should not belong to an Astartes.

He suddenly looked up, his gaze beneath the helmet becoming cold and firm again, without a trace of confusion.

"Go!" he growled, no longer paying attention to the increasingly brutal battle and wailing outside the door, turned around, and was the first to pass through the magnificent Sanctum gate, carved with ancient Eldar epics.

Dorian and Luna followed closely.

Stepping inside the Sanctum, even those with unyielding will like them couldn't help but be slightly moved by the sight before them.

The interior space was far larger and grander than it appeared from the outside.

The towering dome seemed to reach the sky, and the arched ribs constructed of wraithbone and crystal intertwined overhead, emitting a soft, self-luminous psychic glow.

The interior was not a single floor but presented a huge hollow structure spiraling downwards, layer by layer, with dozens of levels visible, each with exquisite corridors, platforms, and rooms, like a vertical city.

The decorations were extremely magnificent and luxurious, with lifelike bas-reliefs, sparkling gem inlays, and flowing psychic patterns visible everywhere.

However, this sacred and beautiful hall was now filled with the panic of doomsday.

Countless Eldar civilians crowded on every platform and corridor, cries, prayers, and calls for loved ones rising and falling, forming a desperate ocean.

They spoke of fear and pleading in Eldar, and although Luna couldn't fully understand, the despair contained in the tone was enough to penetrate any language barrier.

Luna forced herself to avert her gaze, not to look at those helpless eyes, and focused her attention on the scanner in her hand.

The needle on the instrument's screen jumped violently, finally pointing firmly to the lowest level of the Sanctum—that was also the area where the psychic fluctuations were strongest and completely overlapped with the relic's signal.

"The target is on the lowest level." Luna reported calmly.

Just then, a more intense sound of combat and hurried footsteps came from the direction of the Sanctum gate.

The Warlock Koryssa, under the desperate protection of a group of Striking Scorpionss and warriors, retreated while fighting, finally entering the Sanctum.

She had several new wounds on her body, her face was as pale as paper, but her eyes were still like burning flames.

"Close the gate! Activate the internal defense runes! Quick!" she commanded hoarsely.

Several Eldar war-wizards immediately joined forces, injecting psychic energy into the runes on both sides of the gate, and the heavy wraithbone gate slowly closed, temporarily isolating a portion of the swarm still trying to rush in from outside.

But dense and frantic banging and grating sounds immediately came from the gate, clearly indicating it wouldn't hold for long.

Koryssa glanced at Sergeant Karl and his two companions, who had already gone deep into the Sanctum, a complex emotion flashing in her eyes, but at this moment, she had no time to spare.

She turned to the chaotic crowd and shouted with her last ounce of strength:

"Those who cannot fight! All go to the lowest level! Quick! There is an ancient psychic barrier there, the last sanctuary! Warriors and warlocks who can still pick up weapons, come with me, here! For our loved ones, buy time!"

Her shouts had some effect, and the panicked crowd began to surge like a tide towards the spiral staircase and floating platforms leading to the lower levels.

Almost at the same time, a priority communication request from the orbital Pride of Ultramar sounded in Sergeant Karl's helmet communicator.

"Sergeant Karl, this is Pride of Ultramar." Company Commander's steady but slightly grave voice came through, "We have detected that the concentration of Tyranid biological information on the ground is rapidly increasing at an abnormal rate!

It has now increased by three hundred percent compared to when you landed! And it's still rising!

The Hive Mind seems determined to completely devour this planet, committing far more forces than anticipated!"

He paused, then asked gravely: "Is the mission complete? Repeat, is the mission complete? If not, you must abandon it immediately and execute emergency evacuation procedures!

The scale of the Tyranid swarm has exceeded the upper limit of our reception capabilities!"

Following Company Commander's communication, outside the Sanctum, a dense, yet more muffled and terrifying roar like a hailstorm rained down—that was countless Tyranid spore cysts, like drops of death, pounding the planet's surface with unprecedented density!

Immediately after—

"Bang! Bang bang! Crack—!"

The huge stained-glass window on the side of the Sanctum, depicting scenes of Eldar mythology, was suddenly shattered by several huge, carapace-covered, hideous heads!

Glass fragments poured down like a crystal storm!

More Hormagaunts and Termagants, like a breached flood, frantically surged into the Sanctum through the broken window!

The Tyranid swarm had breached the Sanctum's outer shell!

The last sanctuary was now exposed to the fangs of destruction!

Koryssa looked at the surging Tyranid swarm, at the panicked crowd rushing to the lower levels, a trace of despair flashing in her eyes, but more of a resolute determination to live or die with her home.

She raised her staff, and the psychic light glowed again, uttering a final cry to all Eldar warriors who could still fight:

"For Aisha's Tears! For survival! Fight to the last!"

Inside the Sanctum, the final bloody battle erupted instantly!

Meanwhile, Sergeant Karl and his two companions, in this suddenly descended inferno, went against the flow of fleeing people and rushed towards the lowest level of the Sanctum, which emitted a target signal but could also be the place of final judgment.

The Company Commander's warning about the rapidly escalating concentration of Tyranids, and the cruel reality of the Sanctum's outer wall being breached and the Tyranids pouring in, acted like two heavy hammers, completely shattering any lingering hesitation. Sergeant Karl knew that time was no longer a luxury but the most deadly consumable.

"Mission continues! Dorian, Luna, keep up!" Sergeant Karl's voice, transmitted through the communicator, was decisive and unquestionable. He was the first to charge towards the spiral staircase leading to the bottom, the heavy footsteps of his Power Armor sounding particularly jarring amidst the cries and shouts of battle.

Dorian let out a low growl and followed closely, taking one last look at the Aeldari warriors battling the surging Tyranids, a complex emotion flashing in his eyes, but it was immediately overridden by the belief in mission priority. Luna, silent, adjusted her scanner and kept pace.

The trio descended rapidly along the magnificent and complex spiral structure. They swept past platforms crowded with terrified civilians, ignoring the outstretched, pleading hands and desperate eyes. At this moment, their eyes were fixed only on their objective—the sacred relic at the very bottom, which sustained the city's survival but also represented the Imperium's interests.

The descent was not smooth. The Tyranids, like an omnipresent plague, had already infiltrated the Sanctum. Sporadic Hormagaunt and Termagant swarmed from the shadows of corridors and from behind damaged decorations, attempting to hinder the three blue invaders. But these low-tier units were quickly eliminated by Sergeant Karl's precise focused fire, Dorian's furious hammer blows, and Luna's efficient weapon support, unable to delay them even for a moment.

However, as they descended to roughly the middle level and passed through a relatively wide circular corridor connecting to the main staircase, an extremely dangerous aura locked onto them.

At the end of the corridor, a massive figure blocked their path. It had a tank-like, enormous physique, covered in thick, despair-inducing chitinous armor. Its front was a huge bone structure like a battering ram, and several pairs of relatively short but incredibly powerful limbs extended from its sides, supporting its heavy body. It was a heavy siege unit of the Tyranids—the Executioner.

And beside it, guarding it, were several slightly smaller but equally heavily armored Tyrant Guard, exuding an elite aura.

They were clearly drawn by a deeper target—the energy emanating from the sacred relic, or simply the presence of these three Astartes.

"Attention! Executioner!" Dorian immediately raised his Storm Shield, and electricity began to gather on his Thunder Hammer.

Sergeant Karl quickly scanned the environment. This corridor was one of the essential paths to the lower levels; a detour would consume a lot of time, and time was precisely what they lacked most.

"No time to get bogged down!" Sergeant Karl made an instant decision, "Dorian, block them with me! Luna, you continue down, find the sacred relic, and retrieve it immediately!"

"Understood!" Luna didn't hesitate. Her mission was to secure the sacred relic. She immediately adjusted her direction, attempting to bypass through a smaller passage on the side of the corridor.

But the Tyranids clearly had no intention of letting anyone escape. The leading Executioner let out a low, threatening hiss, and two Tyrant Guard beside it immediately charged like unleashed hounds; one rushed towards Sergeant Karl, while the other, with a speed unbefitting its size, slammed into Luna, who was preparing to turn!

"Your opponent is me!" Dorian roared, taking a mighty stride, using his massive body and Storm Shield like a moving wall, blocking the Tyrant Guard charging at Luna!

"Boom!!!"

A dull impact, like a giant bell tolling! The Tyrant Guard's heavy charge was completely absorbed by Dorian's Storm Shield; the energy field on the shield's surface flickered violently, and tiny cracks appeared in the wraithbone floor beneath Dorian's feet, but he did not retreat a single step!

"Damn xenos! Take a hammer from your grandpa Dorian!" Dorian, leveraging the rebound force of the impact, put his waist into it, and his right hand's Thunder Hammer, carrying immense power, slammed upwards into the connection between the Tyrant Guard's lower jaw and chest!

"Boom!!" The terrifying kinetic energy and raging electricity contained within the hammerhead instantly erupted! The Tyrant Guard's thick carapace dented and shattered with the blow, dark green blood and charred tissue splattering everywhere! The impact zone instantly became scorched black, emitting a foul odor.

However, the Tyranids' vitality is extremely tenacious, especially for elite units like this. Despite suffering such a heavy blow, the Tyrant Guard not only did not die immediately but was instead completely enraged by the intense pain! It let out a furious shriek, ignoring the injury to its lower jaw, and suddenly opened its massive, fanged maw, clamping down on Dorian's Power Armor-clad right arm, which held the hammer, like hydraulic pliers!

"Screech—!" The piercing sound of metal deforming under immense biting force rang out!

At the same time, its tail, flexible and powerful like a steel whip, suddenly lashed out, whistling through the air, and precisely struck Dorian's left hand, which held the shield!

Dorian felt a sharp pain and numbness in his left hand; the Storm Shield actually flew out of his grasp, clattering to the ground in the distance!

On the other side, Sergeant Karl also engaged the other Tyrant Guard and the massive Executioner. He utilized the relatively complex terrain of the Aeldari corridor, constantly dodging and weaving, his master-crafted Power Sword, unyielding will, carving out deadly blue trajectories, attempting to find their weaknesses.

He seized an opportunity, sidestepping a lunge from the Tyrant Guard, and the Power Sword slashed down, precisely cutting into the joint of one of its supporting legs!

"Snap!" The carapace and ligaments at the joint broke with the sound! The Tyrant Guard let out a cry of pain, its body swayed, temporarily losing its balance.

But just as Sergeant Karl was about to press his advantage and finish off this Tyrant Guard, the constantly menacing Executioner launched its attack! Its battering ram-like head suddenly thrust forward, not a direct impact, but from a hole at its apex, it suddenly ejected a large spore mine, enveloped in acidic spores and biological bone spikes!

The spore mine was extremely fast and had a wide area of effect. Although Sergeant Karl tried his best to dodge, he was still caught by the edge of the explosion!

"Boom!" The spore mine exploded, and the acidic spores and shockwave sent him flying, slamming heavily into the corridor wall! Although his Power Armor absorbed most of the damage, the violent concussion still made his blood churn.

Even worse, in the smoke and dust of the explosion, a biological bone spike, about the thickness of a fist and incredibly sharp at its tip, shot out like a sniper bullet from an emission port on the Executioner's side, taking advantage of Sergeant Karl's unstable footing!

"Thud!"

Sergeant Karl only had time to slightly turn his body, and the sharp bone spike instantly pierced through the Power Armor on his left shoulder! The immense kinetic energy carried his body backward a few steps before he managed to steady himself. Intense pain radiated from his left shoulder, and the Power Armor's damage alarm blared inside his helmet; the movement of his left arm was clearly affected.

Dorian had lost his shield, and his arm was bitten; Sergeant Karl's shoulder was injured, facing two elite Tyranids and a massive Executioner, the situation instantly took a turn for the worse!

Just at this critical moment, a dense burst of shuriken fire and the hum of Power Weapons sounded from the direction they had come from!

Bishop Karion, leading dozens of blood-soaked Striking Scorpions with severely damaged armor, burst into the corridor like divine soldiers descending from the heavens! They had evidently fought their way through the surging Tyranids on the upper levels, tracking them to this point.

"For Aisha's Tears!" Bishop Karion roared, his Power Sword striking with a desperate will, fiercely slashing at the Tyrant Guard that was biting Dorian's arm!

The other Striking Scorpions also charged like tigers descending a mountain, engaging the remaining Tyrant Guard and the Executioner, instantly drawing the Tyranids' attention!

Dorian seized the opportunity, roaring, and his Power Fist unleashed its full power, forcefully prying open the Tyrant Guard's massive maw, freeing himself, leaving two rows of deep teeth marks on his Power Armor-clad arm. He immediately rushed to the fallen Storm Shield and picked it up again.

Sergeant Karl, with the pressure suddenly reduced, quickly adjusted, violently pulling out the biological bone spike that had pierced his left shoulder, drawing a stream of blood. He didn't even look at it, casually tossing it away, and raised his Power Sword again, fighting alongside the Striking Scorpions to clear these elite Tyranids blocking their path.

The battle once again became a stalemate, but the path to the lower levels was temporarily cleared.

Just then, Korleisa the Witch, supported by another Striking Scorpions, also arrived on this level. She looked even weaker, as if she might collapse at any moment, but her gaze swept over the fierce battlefield and landed on Sergeant Karl, who was quickly tending to his wounds and preparing to continue downwards.

Her eyes no longer held the previous anger, only a deep weariness and... a hint of almost pitying warning.

She exerted all her strength, her voice faint but clearly cutting through the din of the battlefield, reaching Sergeant Karl:

"Astartes of humanity... look around... the Tyranids... have devoured everything..."

She gasped, and continued:

"If you... do not wish to be utterly consumed... along with this dying city... by the endless Tyranid swarm... then call your warship... and leave quickly..."

"Any later... and it will be too late..."

Her voice, like a final prophecy, slowly echoed in this deep corridor filled with slaughter and despair.

Bishop Karion and his Striking Scorpionss bought Gaius and Dorian precious time and space with their blood and lives. Facing the tank-sized Executioner and the ferocious Tyrant Guard, the Aeldari elite warriors displayed moving courage and self-sacrifice.

Power Sword clashed against thick bio-armor, sending up dazzling sparks and dark green ichor. The shriek of shuriken cannons intertwined with the dying screams of the Tyranids. One Striking Scorpions, to create an opening for the Bishop, took a heavy blow from the Executioner's tail whip directly with his body; his chest plate instantly shattered, and he was sent flying, his fate unknown. Bishop Karion seized the opportunity to surge forward, his Power Sword glowing with brilliant psychic energy, precisely piercing the Executioner's relatively vulnerable neck joint like a hot knife through butter, and tearing savagely!

"Hiss-ga—!!!" The Executioner let out an unprecedented shriek of agony. Its massive body twitched and rolled violently, smashing the railings along the corridor's edge to smithereens, before slowly ceasing its movements in its death throes.

The remaining Tyrant Guard were also dealt with one by one under the encirclement of the other Striking Scorpionss. With the battle concluded, this corridor leading to the lower levels was temporarily cleared, but the Striking Scorpionss had paid a heavy price; less than half remained standing, all wounded. Bishop Karion, leaning on his Power Sword, breathed heavily, his armor covered in cracks.

The moment the dust settled from the battle, Witch Koraisha, who had been struggling to watch, suddenly slammed her staff onto the ground! She closed her eyes and chanted ancient and obscure Aeldari incantations. Her remaining psychic energy, like a trickling stream, was desperately squeezed from her nearly depleted body, converging into the gem at the top of her staff.

A soft, yet resilient, pale purple psychic barrier rapidly expanded from her, like a translucent cover, covering the main passage entrance to the lower levels. This barrier was not thick, but it effectively blocked the sporadic Hormagaunt and Termagant constantly surging from the upper levels, buying a moment of respite for the last refuge below.

However, forcefully activating this last power exacted a huge toll on Koraisha. The moment the spell was completed, her body went limp, and she suddenly spat out a mouthful of blood, staining her already soiled robes. Cold sweat poured like a waterfall from her pale forehead; she could barely stand, relying on a warrior beside her for support. She looked at Gaius and Dorian, who were also seriously injured—Gaius's left shoulder wound was still seeping blood, and unstable electrical sparks flickered from the damaged parts of his power armor; Dorian's arm armor bore terrifying bite marks, and his shield-wielding left arm seemed to be somewhat impaired.

Just then, Luna's voice crackled through Gaius's helmet communicator, the signal weak due to depth and interference:

"Gaius, I've reached the lowest level. I've found the target relic... but it's enveloped by an extremely powerful energy barrier, its energy structure originating from the relic itself. I cannot break through it. Inside the barrier... there are many Aeldari children, they..."

Luna's voice carried a rare hint of solemnity and... a subtle touch of emotion. Even with a Tech-Sergeant's composure, facing the Aeldari children huddled together behind the barrier, looking out with fearful and bewildered eyes, it was difficult to remain completely unmoved.

The situation had become even more complex. The relic was within reach, yet protected by a powerful barrier seemingly bound to it, and within the barrier were unarmed Aeldari children.

Gaius immediately tried to contact the Pride of Ultramar in orbit via an encrypted channel:

"Company Commander, this is Gaius. We have located the relic, but it is protected by a powerful energy barrier originating from the relic itself, making a forced breakthrough impossible. There are many Aeldari civilians, primarily children, inside the barrier. Requesting further instructions! Repeat, requesting instructions!"

He threw the dilemma and moral quandary he faced to his superiors.

However, only an unsettling static silence filled the communication channel. No response. The Company Commander's calm voice did not sound as usual.

Witch Koraisha weakly raised her head, looking at Gaius. Her voice was barely a whisper, yet carried the serenity of one who had seen through destiny: "Without... my psychic guidance... the barrier will not deactivate... you... cannot take it..."

She gasped a few times, as if gathering her last strength, a hint of determination flashing in her eyes, and proposed an unexpected trade:

"But... I want... to make a deal with you..."

Her gaze swept over the remaining, scarred warriors around her, and the faint sounds of children weeping from further below.

"This city... is finished... The Tyranids... will not stop... I need you... in the name of the Imperium of Man's Astartes... to take away... as many of our civilians... especially the children... as possible..."

Her tone held a plea bordering on humility, a stark contrast to her previous angry rebukes.

"I beg you... to lend a hand... even if... you can only save a part..."

She looked at Gaius, speaking each word distinctly:

"In exchange... the relic... after the civilians are safely evacuated... I... will personally... hand it over..."

This proposal stunned both Gaius and Dorian. Trading assistance in evacuating Aeldari civilians for the relic?

Gaius was silent for a few seconds, his gaze beneath his helmet as sharp as a blade, fixed through his visor on Koraisha's weak and pale face:

"What... makes us believe you?" His voice was cold, filled with the inherent distrust of xenos. "Once the civilians are aboard, what if you renege, or if this is a trap to begin with?"

A bitter and desolate smile appeared on Koraisha's face. She looked at Gaius, her eyes clear yet filled with despair: "I... swear on the life of the last governing Witch of Aisha's Tears... on my personal soul to the God of Life... this... is the last thing... I can do... for my people..."

Her words were filled with sincerity and tragedy, but Gaius's vigilance did not lessen. In the long history of hostility between the Imperium and xenos, perfidy was all too common.

"Xenos," Gaius's voice grew colder. He slowly raised the Power Sword in his hand, its ethereal blue energy tip precisely pressed against Koraisha's slender, fragile throat. The cold energy field even made the skin on her neck tingle. "Your life... in my eyes, is worth nothing!"

This sudden action instantly caused the remaining Aeldari warriors around to erupt!

"Stop!"

Bishop Karion's eyes widened in fury. Despite his severe injuries, he struggled to raise his Power Sword, pointing it at Gaius! Dorian also immediately raised his Thunder Hammer, his Storm Shield protecting him, forming a tense standoff with the glaring Aeldari warriors.

The atmosphere became charged again. The relationship, which had just slightly eased due to their common enemy, instantly plummeted back to freezing point, or even worse.

Gaius ignored the weapons pointed at him. His gaze was fixed on Koraisha's eyes, trying to find any hint of deception or trickery. But Koraisha, despite having a blade at her throat and her life hanging by a thread, showed no fear or retreat. She merely met his gaze with eyes full of weariness, sorrow, yet abnormal calm, as if to say, these are our final terms, and our only hope.

Time ticked by in the stalemate. The sounds of the Tyranid swarm impacting the barrier from above grew more frequent, and the barrier's light began to flicker slightly, clearly unable to hold much longer.

Gaius felt anxious. He tried again to call the Company Commander, to call Lieutenant Golden, and even tried to contact Vidis's squad, who might still be nearby.

However, all communication channels were like stones sinking into the sea, with only a desperate, interfered noise.

He realized that it wasn't that the Company Commander hadn't replied, but that communications... were very likely completely cut off due to the Tyranids' constantly strengthening bio-interference field and the complex psychic environment deep within the temple!

They had lost contact with orbit, with the Chapter!

Now, all the pressure of decision-making fell on his shoulders, the squad Sergeant deep behind enemy lines and in a desperate situation.

Should he stick to the original orders, trying to break through the barrier and seize the relic at all costs, potentially leading to a firefight with the remaining Aeldari forces, or even detonating the energy core in a mutual destruction?

Or... should he risk trusting this xenos Witch's dying bargain, attempting to evacuate a portion of the Aeldari civilians before the swarm completely overwhelmed them, in exchange for the relic?

And how were they themselves to survive in this hell that was about to completely collapse?

Communications severed, the path ahead unknown, the burden of choice, like the weight of an entire planet, pressed down on Gaius's shoulders.

In the northern reaches of the Imperium, a planet far from major shipping lanes, almost forgotten by star charts. Here there were no azure oceans, no lush vegetation, only an endless, barren land covered by permafrost and exposed rock. The biting cold wind, like the wailing of vengeful spirits, swept across the surface year-round, kicking up fine ice crystals, making visibility extremely low. The light of the star, filtered through the thin and turbid atmosphere, cast a bleak and cold halo, unable to bring the slightest warmth.

At the edge of this forbidden zone, beneath a sheltered rock face, there was a faint, anachronistic sign of life. A small patch of earth had been meticulously tended, covered with a thin layer of humus collected from an unknown source. Several tenacious and peculiar cold-resistant strains, emitting a faint blue luminescence, were slowly growing, breaking through the frozen soil.

A tall figure was squatting beside this small mushroom patch. He was dressed in simple clothing made of unknown animal hides and coarse cloth, covered by a heavily worn, thick cloak to ward off the severe cold. He wore no protective gloves, his bare hands, pale to the point of transparency yet revealing strong muscle lines beneath, were carefully loosening the soil around the root of a mushroom with a homemade bone tool.

His movements were focused and steady, as if an experienced old farmer was tending his most precious crops, completely out of place in the surrounding silent and dangerous environment.

However, just as he was about to loosen the soil for the next mushroom, his deep blue eyes, like the most profound night sky, hidden beneath his disheveled black hair, suddenly lifted, gazing at the distant horizon. His sharp gaze seemed to penetrate the howling wind, snow, and rugged rocks.

His keen, almost premonitory intuition, caught an unusual movement. It was neither the wind and snow, nor the rare and hidden cold-resistant creatures of this place. It was a disturbance… carrying the scent of gunpowder, desecration, and blood, heading towards his humble abode.

Uninvited guests.

He slowly stood up, his tall figure like a silent mountain in the wind and snow. He put down the bone tool, leaning it gently against the rock face, then turned and walked with steady, silent steps towards his extremely simple dwelling built against the rock face nearby—it could barely be called a house, more like a shelter roughly pieced together from several large stone slabs and crude wooden boards.

When he lifted the thick animal hide serving as a door curtain and entered the dim interior, 'people' were already waiting inside.

There were five warriors clad in dark Power Armor. The style of their armor differed from the mainstream designs of the current Imperium of Man or Chaos Warbands; it was older, with smoother and more eerie lines, painted in a deep, dark blue that seemed to absorb light, and adorned with bat-wing-shaped decorations on their shoulder pads. They stood silently in the shadows, like sculptures merged with darkness, only the faint red glow occasionally flashing in their helmet visors indicating their living presence. They were his sons, remnants of the Eighth Legion, the Night Lords Primarch's guards, the Black Guard.

And opposite them stood several other uninvited guests.

These three warriors wore Power Armor as black as ink, adorned with numerous pale or dark gold skull markings, twisted runes, and the abhorrent Chaos Eight-Pointed Star. They exuded a dense, blasphemous aura of fear, tyranny, and prolonged immersion in slaughter. The leading warrior was particularly burly, clad in a heavy and ferocious blasphemous Terminator Armor, with curved horns decorating both sides of his helmet, like a demon that had crawled out of hell.

When the tall figure, dressed in simple animal hides, walked in, all eyes in the room focused on him.

The leading Black Legion Terminator, upon seeing him, immediately stepped forward, clenched his right fist, and heavily struck the Chaos starburst on his left chest, producing a dull metallic clang. His posture was very low, even carrying a hint of imperceptible… awe? Although his voice, emanating through the demonic helmet, carried the twisted and hoarse quality characteristic of Chaos warriors, his tone was exceptionally respectful, clearly uttering a name that could cause ripples within both the Imperium of Man and the Eye of Terror:

"Lord Curze."

Konrad Curze.

Once the Primarch of the Eighth Legion, the Night Lords, the Lord of Night who wielded fear as a weapon and enacted cruelty in the name of judgment. Now, he was hidden on this forgotten, barren planet, like an ordinary hermit, cultivating mushrooms.

Curze's deep blue eyes, like cold searchlights, swept over the Black Legion warriors, finally resting on the leading Terminator. There was no expression on his face, neither surprise nor anger, only a profound calmness, as if he had seen through the vicissitudes of ages, and… a hint of imperceptible weariness.

"Black Legion," Curze's voice resonated, deep and cold, like the howling wind outside, cutting directly through the noise and clearly reaching everyone's ears, "What brings you here?"

He did not ask how they found this place; for these experts in spreading fear and destruction across the galaxy, tracking and finding was not difficult.

The Black Legion Terminator maintained a respectful posture and replied, "Lord Curze, we are here by the command of Warmaster Abaddon to cross the stars, to pay you our highest respects, and to convey the Warmaster's invitation."

He paused, his tone becoming more solemn, even with a hint of seductive fanaticism: "Warmaster Abaddon sincerely invites you to return, to join the great Black Legion! With your supreme wisdom and power, reclaim your loyal sons, and together with Warmaster Abaddon, for the glory of Chaos, for the overthrow of the false Golden Throne, embark on a grand endeavor! The galaxy needs your return!"

His words echoed in the simple stone house, full of temptation and ambition. The Black Legion, one of the most powerful and influential Chaos Space Marines, Warmaster Abaddon, a terrifying entity who had launched countless Black Crusades. Their invitation carried significant weight for any Chaos faction yearning for power, destruction, or revenge.

However, Curze's reaction was like a bucket of ice water poured on the fire that was trying to ignite.

He listened quietly, his face still unruffled. Only after the other party finished speaking did he slowly open his mouth, his voice still flat and cold:

"Tell Abaddon, I appreciate his 'kindness.'"

He refused directly.

"But I am… no longer involved in these matters." Curze's gaze seemed to penetrate the walls of the stone house, looking towards a distant and ethereal place. "The so-called 'great endeavor,' the so-called 'glory'… are merely another bloody farce in an endless cycle. You, go back."

His refusal was swift and decisive, leaving no room for negotiation.

The Black Legion Terminator clearly did not expect such a direct refusal. In his view, how could a Primarch lost for ten millennia, a warlord who once ruled worlds with terror, be content with solitude, growing mushrooms on this godforsaken planet? He must be holding out for a better offer, or requiring more 'sincerity.'

"Lord Curze!" The Terminator took a step forward, his tone becoming a little more urgent, "Please reconsider! Warmaster Abaddon sincerely hopes for your participation! With your power, we will surely be even stronger! The Thirteenth…"

"Enough."

Curze interrupted him, and for the first time, a clear flicker of… impatience and irritation crossed his blue eyes. The abyss-like aura that had been restrained around him seemed to fluctuate, causing the temperature in the entire stone house to drop by several degrees.

"Black Legion," Curze's voice carried undisguised sarcasm, "like Abaddon, you are hopelessly foolish. Immersed in old dreams of destruction and conquest, you believe that violence and betrayal can win everything… yet you fail to see the deeper void and madness that is already destined."

His gaze, like a cold dagger, pierced the Terminator: "I will say it one last time—leave here. Go back to Abaddon, or crawl back to your Eye of Terror."

He tilted his head slightly, gesturing towards the cold ground beneath his feet.

"If you continue to waste my time here, chattering on…"

His tone suddenly became dangerous and cold, carrying a trace of the Lord of Night's soul-freezing cruelty.

"I don't mind… burying you few noisy wastes beneath my mushroom patch… as fertilizer."

As his words fell, the five Black Guard, who had been standing silently behind him, almost simultaneously adjusted their stances slightly. Their gazes, hidden beneath their bat-wing helmets, instantly became incredibly fierce and dangerous, like bloodthirsty bats eyeing their prey, their chilling killing intent unmistakably locked onto the three Black Legion warriors. In the simple stone house, the air seemed to solidify, thick with tension.

The Black Legion Terminator was choked by Curze's merciless rebuke and naked threat. He looked at Curze's calm but terrifyingly powerful eyes, and felt the undisguised killing intent of the Black Guard. He knew that this Primarch was serious. He was absolutely not joking.

However, burdened with Abaddon's personal command, he was still unwilling to give up so easily. He opened his mouth, still wanting to make one last plea…

Time mercilessly slipped away amidst the cold sword's edge and the desperate standoff.

The sounds of the Tyranid Swarm crashing from above grew increasingly dense and frantic.

The faint purple psychic barrier, barely maintained by Witch Korysa, flickered violently, its light visibly dimming, clearly on the verge of collapse.

Every second of hesitation could lead to everyone being completely engulfed by this purple tide of death.

Gaius's gaze, like a sharp probe, was fixed on Korysa's eyes, which were filled with exhaustion and sorrow, yet unusually calm.

He tried to find any trace of deception, trickery, or hesitation within them, but all he saw was a resolute determination to give everything for the survival of her race, and a nearly relieved composure.

This Eldar Witch had staked her personal fate and the fate of this city on this almost absurd deal.

Communication remained a dead static hiss, contact with orbit completely severed.

The Company Commander's orders could not be conveyed, and the Chapter's support was out of reach.

He was now the sole decision-maker in this desperate situation.

No more waiting!

The last trace of hesitation in Gaius's eyes was completely severed.

He slowly withdrew the Power Sword from Korysa's throat, the ethereal blue energy field extinguished, but the cold killing intent had not fully dissipated.

"Witch Korysa," Gaius's voice, low and oppressive through his helmet, was like a final ultimatum, "I, in the name of Sergeant Gaius of the Ultramarines Chapter's First Company, temporarily... accept your deal."

His words ignited a faint spark of light in Korysa's eyes and caused the tense Eldar warriors around them to visibly relax slightly, but Gaius's next sentence instantly enveloped that nascent hope in cold reality.

"But," Gaius's tone was decisive and unyielding, "Remember! This deal is built upon absolute obedience and honesty!

If there is even the slightest irregularity—whether you attempt to renege, set a trap, or make any move detrimental to our side during the evacuation..."

His voice suddenly rose, carrying the ruthless coldness characteristic of Astartes Monks towards xenos:

"I promise you!

The Ultramarines Chapter, and the countless Astartes Chapters under the Imperium, will use every force to utterly erase your arrogant and ancient Eldar race from the history of the galaxy!

To reduce you to an insignificant speck in the cosmic dust!"

This naked threat, imbued with the Imperium's endless war potential, struck like a heavy hammer in the hearts of every Eldar.

They had no doubt that if the Imperium of Man truly made up its mind, it absolutely had the capability to achieve this.

Korysa nodded weakly, indicating understanding.

With the warning delivered, Gaius quickly moved to practical matters: "The biggest problem we face now is that I am temporarily unable to contact the warships in orbit, and I've also lost contact with the other two squads on mission.

Evacuation requires transport capacity and rendezvous, but currently, we are isolated and without aid."

He glanced at Korysa, whose aura was growing weaker, and made a decision: "The immediate priority is to first head to the lower levels and rendezvous with my team member, Luna.

And you, Lady Korysa..."

His gaze turned to her, carrying an undeniable pressure: "You are the only key to disabling the relic's barrier.

Until the deal is complete, you must be protected and guarded by us.

We do not wish to see this sole 'key' suffer an accidental mishap in the chaos."

The meaning of these words was clear: they intended to firmly control Korysa, ensuring she would not renege or 'disappear' at the critical moment.

"What?!

That's impossible!" Bishop Karion immediately objected, finding it an unacceptable humiliation for his respected ruling Witch to be controlled like a prisoner by these humans.

"Bishop!" Korysa, however, used all her strength to weakly but firmly stop him.

She shook her head, her eyes filled with helplessness and resolve, "We... no longer have... a choice... For the sake of... the children..."

Bishop Karion looked at Korysa's pleading eyes, then at the scarred, few remaining warriors around him.

Finally, he painfully closed his eyes and nodded heavily, forcibly swallowing the humiliation and anger.

Gaius said no more.

He walked over to Korysa.

Korysa was now so weak she could barely stand, let alone walk on her own.

Gaius did not hesitate, extending his power-armored arm and, in a manner that was unyielding but not rough, scooped up her light body.

Korysa did not resist, merely closing her eyes, as if surrendering everything to fate.

"Go!" Gaius growled, holding Korysa, and was the first to rush towards the stairs leading to the lower levels.

Dorian followed closely, vigilantly watching the surrounding Eldar warriors.

Bishop Karion gritted his teeth, leading the remaining, still-mobile Striking Scorpionss and a few other warriors, and immediately followed suit; they now had to act in concert with these human "cooperators."

The group, following the magnificent spiraling staircase downwards, began a frantic race against death.

As Gaius sped, he relentlessly tried various encrypted channels, calling out to the Pride of Ultramar, calling to Vidis, calling to Anris...

"Pride of Ultramar, this is Gaius, respond if you receive!"

"Vidis Squad, report your position!"

"Anris! If you can still hear, hold on!"

However, what answered him was only the eternal, despair-inducing static noise within his helmet's communicator.

The Tyranid's bio-static interference and the dense psychic environment deep within the sanctum acted like a giant cage, completely isolating them from the outside world.

They descended rapidly, passing layer after layer of platforms that were once magnificent but now empty and silent.

Behind them, above, the fragile psychic barrier finally emitted a mournful, glass-shattering wail under the unbearable strain—

"Crack... Boom!"

The barrier completely shattered!

The unhindered Tyranid Swarm, like a breaching flood, swarmed down the stairs and corridors, hissing and roaring, furiously pursuing them in their direction of escape!

The sound, from far to near, was like the approaching footsteps of death!

"Faster! Faster!" Bishop Karion looked back at the Tyranid Swarm surging like a purple tide and urged them on with a hoarse voice.

Everyone pushed their armor's output to the limit, and heavy footsteps echoed within the cavernous sanctum.

Even while carrying someone, Gaius's speed did not diminish in the slightest.

Dorian brought up the rear, occasionally sweeping backwards with his assault cannon to slow the vanguard of the Tyranid Swarm.

Every second counted!

Every second was a matter of life and death!

Finally, with the nauseating hiss of the Tyranid Swarm almost on their backs, and the claws of the vanguard Hormagaunts almost reaching Dorian's cloak, they reached the end of the staircase and burst into an extremely vast underground space at the lowest level of the sanctum!

"Go!" Gaius roared, rushing in first with Korysa in his arms.

Dorian and the Eldar warriors also streamed in.

After the last Striking Scorpions stepped inside, Bishop Karion slammed his hand on a hidden Eldar rune by the doorway!

"Whir—!"

The massive, heavy gate, forged from an unknown alloy and spirit-bones, emitted a low rumble and began to slowly and firmly close!

A few of the fastest Hormagaunts tried to squeeze through the gap, but were immediately shattered by the Eldar warriors by the door and Dorian's Bolter!

"Boom!!"

Finally, the great door closed completely, sealing tightly, temporarily isolating the endless, frantic crashing and scraping Tyranid Swarm outside!

Dull thuds continuously reverberated, but the door was exceptionally sturdy and seemed impenetrable for the time being.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, but it was only temporary.

They steadied their breathing, which had become ragged from the frantic rush, and quickly surveyed this last refuge.

The space here was incredibly vast, as if the heart of the mountain had been hollowed out.

The dome was high, emitting a soft glow that originated from the walls themselves.

But what was most striking was an object suspended in the very center of the space.

It was an ancient, complex geometric shape, seemingly made of some golden metal and unknown crystals.

It floated silently in mid-air, slowly rotating, emitting a warm and dazzling golden light.

This light was not merely illumination, but formed a solid and massive hemispherical energy barrier, like an inverted bowl, covering the area below.

And within that golden barrier were thousands of Eldar children, as well as some severely wounded Eldar warriors who could no longer fight.

The children huddled together, their faces streaked with tears and fear, while the injured warriors used their bodies to shield the children, their eyes still vigilant despite their weakness.

When the Eldar inside the barrier saw Bishop Karion and the remaining Striking Scorpionss rush in, their eyes, previously dimmed by despair, instantly lit up with a glimmer of hope.

But immediately after, they saw the two massive figures in blue power armor following closely behind—Ultramarines!

And Witch Korysa, weak and unconscious, held in the arms of one of the Ultramarines!

The glimmer of hope was instantly replaced by immense shock, confusion, and deep sorrow.

The children shrank back in fear, and the injured warriors clutched their remaining weapons, their eyes filled with vigilance and hostility.

Gaius ignored those gazes.

He gently placed the unconscious Korysa on a relatively flat surface.

Then he quickly walked towards Luna, who was operating near the barrier.

"Luna, circumstances have changed." Gaius succinctly informed her of the deal with Korysa, the communication breakdown, and their current predicament.

Luna listened calmly, her bionic eye sweeping over the unconscious Korysa and the hostile Eldar around them, then nodded: "Understood.

What do you need me to do?"

"Two things," Gaius quickly instructed.

"First, do your best to stabilize Korysa's injuries; she absolutely cannot die, she is the key.

Second, continue to try all possible communication methods; we must re-establish contact with orbit, otherwise all plans are meaningless."

"Leave it to me." Luna wasted no words, immediately walking over to Korysa.

Her servo-arm extended multiple probes, beginning to scan Korysa's vital signs and attempting emergency treatment.

Simultaneously, the communication module in her helmet continuously sent out distress and identification signals at maximum power.

Gaius then turned around, standing shoulder to shoulder with Dorian, facing Bishop Karion and the remaining Eldar warriors with their complex gazes, as well as the eyes filled with fear and confusion from within the barrier.

Temporary safety brought no relief. Outside, an endless Tyranid Swarm; inside, fragile trust coexisted with hostility. And their only hope—evacuation—became unreachable due to severed communications.

They were trapped in this last sanctuary, which was also their final cage.

The heavy alloy door kept the suffocating hissing and pounding of the Tyranid Swarm at bay. Although the dull thuds still hammered in everyone's hearts like drums, this vast space on the lowest level of the sanctuary had temporarily gained a moment of respite. The air was filled with the smell of blood, gunpowder, the faint, unique fragrance of the Aeldari, and the oppressive scent of something called "despair."

Luna knelt beside the unconscious Korysa, her servo-arms operating various medical probes and syringes with the precision of the most skilled surgeon. A pale green healing gel was carefully applied to Korysa's forehead and neck to stabilize her mind, which was on the verge of collapse from over-exerting her psychic powers. Microscopic nanite repair agents were injected into her veins, attempting to mend her damaged tissues and organs. Luna's electronic eyes flickered continuously, analyzing Korysa's vital signs to ensure this crucial "key" wouldn't expire before the transaction was complete.

After stabilizing Korysa's injuries, Luna immediately turned her attention to Gaius and Dorian. She first treated the wound on Gaius's left shoulder, which had been pierced by a bio-bone spike, clearing out residual corrosive matter and bone fragments, injecting coagulants and anti-infection nanites, and temporarily sealing the breach in his Power Armor with quick-setting foam. Next, she examined the horrific bite marks on Dorian's Power Armor arm and any potential internal structural damage, providing simple reinforcement and pain relief.

Gaius silently accepted the treatment, his gaze involuntarily drawn to the golden barrier. Thousands of Aeldari children huddled together like frightened birds, trembling, their clear eyes filled with fear of this strange and terrifying world. They watched the tall, blue "giants" outside, especially the unconscious Korysa the Witch, and soft sobs and suppressed whimpers echoed within the barrier. Some severely wounded Aeldari warriors, despite their own precarious state, still tried to comfort the children with their bodies and eyes, their gazes towards Gaius and the others filled with wariness and an unresolvable hostility.

Looking at these children, Gaius couldn't help but think of Eilaas again. If she were here, seeing her kin, who shared her bloodline, in such dire straits, what would she do? This thought was fleeting, and he forcefully suppressed it. What he needed now was calm, and a solution.

As soon as his treatment ended, Gaius immediately moved to a relatively open area, away from the Aeldari, and began attempting to establish communication again. He cycled through all known encrypted channels, maximized his communicator's power output, and even risked wider detection by sending clear distress and identification signals.

"Sanks Squad calling Pride of Ultramar! Company Commander, respond if you hear me!"

"Vidis Squad! Anris Squad! If you can hear me, report your location and status!"

"This is Sergeant Gaius of the Ultramarines First Company, located on the lowest level of the core sanctuary of the Aisha's Tears Craftworld. Requesting emergency communication support! Repeat, requesting emergency communication support!"

He called out again and again, his voice echoing through the speaker in the empty underground space, carrying a hint of imperceptible urgency.

However, the only response was always the irritating and despairing, unchanging "zzzzzzzz..." static interference. The Tyranid bio-interference field was like a giant, living cage, tightly enveloping the planet, cutting off all their contact with the outside world. Hope, like a flickering candle in the wind, grew weaker with each futile call.

Time slowly passed in waiting and anxiety. The pounding outside the door seemed ceaseless, and they could even feel the door trembling slightly. The Aeldari warriors moved restlessly, checking their weapons and the defensive runes at the door, their faces filled with uncertainty about the future. The children within the barrier had cried themselves to sleep, gradually falling into uneasy slumber, but occasional sobs still pierced the ears.

Bishop Karion had been silently standing near Korysa, guarding his respected ruling Witch. He watched Luna treat Korysa, watched Gaius repeatedly try to communicate, and watched Dorian's undisguised impatience with the Xenos. At first, he held a glimmer of hope that these human Astartes Monks could truly contact their battleship and bring about a chance for evacuation.

But as time passed, each of Gaius's futile calls added another crack to his strained nerves. Hope gradually turned to doubt, and doubt bred anxiety and distrust.

Finally, when Gaius once again put down the unresponsive communicator, letting out a suppressed sigh, Bishop Karion could no longer hold back. He strode over to Gaius, and although he was shorter than Gaius, the imposing aura of a Striking Scorpions was no less.

"Human!" Bishop Karion's voice was filled with suppressed anger and questioning, "What trick are you playing? Communication? Or just an excuse to buy time?!"

Gaius turned around, his gaze from beneath his helmet cold as he looked at him: "I am doing what is necessary to ensure the transaction can be completed, Bishop. Without a battleship to rendezvous, none of us can leave this planet."

"Necessary things?" Bishop Karion scoffed, his tone full of sarcasm, "Like endlessly shouting into the air here? Watching those monsters outside potentially break through the door at any moment? Korysa the Witch made a deal with you with her last hope, not for us to sit here and wait for death!"

His voice drew the attention of the other Aeldari warriors, who gathered around, their distrust growing stronger.

"What we need is action! A plan!" Bishop Karion took a step closer, practically pointing at Gaius's chest plate as he spoke, "Not to listen to you perform here!"

Gaius's voice also grew cold: "Watch your words, Xenos. We are trying every possible method. If you have a better idea, by all means, speak it. Otherwise, remain silent and do not interfere with my work."

"A better idea?" Bishop Karion laughed in anger, "My idea is for you to immediately find a way to contact your battleship and complete our transaction, or fight our way out with us! Find other evacuation points! Not to hide here like a coward, pinning your hopes on external signals that don't even exist!"

"Fight our way out?" Gaius's voice carried undisguised mockery, "Look outside, Bishop! That is an endless Tyranid Swarm! With just a few of us, a comatose Witch, and thousands of children, fight our way out? How is that different from suicide? That would truly be the end of your last hope!"

"That's better than waiting for death here!" Bishop Karion roared, "At least we would fight to the last! Not entrust our fate to a group of utterly untrustworthy humans!"

"Untrustworthy?" Gaius's voice suddenly rose, "The transaction was proposed by you! Now, you are the ones questioning trustworthiness!"

Both sides argued, and the crack in their trust rapidly widened under immense pressure, escalating into a fierce dispute. Seeing this, Dorian immediately stood beside Gaius with his Thunder Hammer, glaring at Bishop Karion. The Aeldari warriors also tightened their grips on their weapons, and the atmosphere instantly became tense again.

Meanwhile, in orbit, aboard the Ultramarines' Strike Cruiser Pride of Ultramar, the atmosphere on the bridge was equally thick.

Company Commander Cassius stood before the giant tactical star map, his brow furrowed. The planetary model representing Aisha's Tears on the star map was now covered by a constantly writhing, glaring red layer indicating an extremely high concentration of Tyranid bio-signatures, and its concentration index was still rising frantically.

"Still no signal?" Cassius's voice was deep, with a hint of imperceptible anxiety.

The Communications Officer looked up, his face showing helplessness: "Reporting, Company Commander, all encrypted channels, backup channels, and even wide-area scans have been attempted. There is no response from Sanks Squad, Vidis Squad, or Anris Squad. The bio-interference strength has reached unprecedented levels; our signals can barely penetrate, and their signals likewise cannot get out."

The Tech-Priest at his side supplemented in binary: [According to the last effective signal trace and trajectory calculation: Anris Squad's signal last disappeared at the eastern edge of the Craftworld city, suspected of breaking through the encirclement; Vidis Squad's last known position was near the outer perimeter of the sanctuary; Sanks Squad is confirmed to have entered the interior of the sanctuary. Thereafter, all communications have been blocked by powerful biostatic and psychic composite interference.]

Three of the most elite First Company squads, all lost contact! And in an inferno where the Tyranids had deployed far more forces than anticipated!

Cassius took a deep breath. He knew they could not wait any longer. Every minute of delay meant the squads' chances of survival were rapidly decreasing, and the risk of mission failure was constantly increasing.

He turned, his gaze sweeping over the Astartes Monks standing rigidly on the bridge, finally settling on several Astartes Monks in heavy Terminator Armor in the standby area.

"Transmit my orders!" Cassius's voice regained its usual calm and decisiveness, "Navigation, calculate the optimal bombardment trajectory! Weapons Master, charge all macro-cannons and lance arrays, target—the five-kilometer radius around Sanks Squad's last confirmed position! Execute saturation orbital bombardment, clearing the surface Tyranid Swarm to the maximum extent possible!"

"Yes, Company Commander!"

The orders were swiftly given, and the hum of combat alerts echoed within the battleship as weapon systems began to emit a low charging sound.

Cassius then looked at the Terminator Squad: "Terminator Squad, proceed to the Thunderhawk Gunship immediately and prepare for a hard landing!"

His gaze was sharp as an eagle's: "The orbital bombardment will buy us a brief time window. After the bombardment ends, if we still do not receive a confirmation signal from Sanks Squad…"

He paused, his tone cold and resolute:

"You, as substitutes, will forcefully land in the bombardment zone and enter the core area of the sanctuary."

"Your mission objective remains unchanged: retrieve the holy relic."

"Regardless… whether the original executing squad is alive or dead."