Day 272, Year 986, 41st Millennium
Upper Hive
Eric's POV
The sounds of the heretics below were like a raging herd. Footsteps, laughter, and insane growls filled him with fear. He held his breath and prayed silently, "...
Please, just let them pass... please...
But then, one of them stopped. He turned toward the building, as if it had been drawn by a lucky draw. He sensed something was wrong. He pointed up,
and his voice cracked, like his throat was full of rust.
"...There's... up there..."
Shit was going crazy. Before he could think any further, the entire herd had turned.
"SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THRONE!!!!"
The sound was so loud it felt like the walls were shaking, and he let out a scream, completely unfiltered.
"F_ck! No, no, no, don't!" The herd of heretics charged toward the building. They ran so fast, it seemed as if the sight of blood had made them even more frantic. Their weapons ranged from bloodstained axes to rusted chains. Some had claws, while others had faces made of scrap metal instead of skin. It made him feel even more disgusted and scared. He feared them more than the zombies (poxwalkers).
"Shit! They've seen us!" Vann cursed immediately.
Celianne didn't wait for anyone to regain her composure. She grabbed a bolter (which looked like a grenade launcher with a magazine, in Eric's mind) and commanded with the firm voice of a nun who had been through a hundred battles.
"Everyone! Move to the back of the building now!" Sister shouted. Castra jolted awake from the shout.
"Erica! What's going on?" Castra, who had just woken up, asked sleepily.
"We have to get out!" Eric said, using his left hand to sling his bag and pull out his lassgun, adjusting the sling so it could be fired easily with one hand. Hearing Eric's words, Castra was shocked and immediately stood up.
"Hurry up, Erica!" Vann's voice boomed, and Eric shouted back.
"I know! I'm going—!" he said loudly as he led Castra out of the room. A loud "Bang, bang, bang!" came from downstairs. They began climbing, breaking, and slamming the door in a way that made him want to vomit.
Eric peeked down briefly and saw it.
A cultist stood in the doorway, covered in blood and wearing a metal skull mask, wielding a large axe capable of easily splitting him in half. Without waiting for him to think, he charged at him with such speed that Eric could not help but scream in surprise.
"Aaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!!! This idiot!" he said, using his lassgun to shoot the creature, knocking it to the ground.
Finally, he reunited with Sister Celianne and Vann, who were waiting in the back building. Suddenly, a heretic appeared. And several more appeared and ran this way.
"Erica, run!" Celianne shouted. He didn't need to be told again. Everyone rushed towards the back door simultaneously, with Vann firing his lasgun to stall for time as he slowly retreated. A loud "Pew!" echoed throughout the building.
He shouted to Eric as he ran.
"Are you okay?!" Vann asked in a flat tone.
"I'm okay! I'm just—!" Eric replied, trying to sound as normal as possible. Running so fast or anything like that was making his chest hurt like hell, where his ribs were broken. But before he could finish,
Smack!
A cultist axe was thrown, barely missing Eric's head. It pierced the wall, shattering a deep dent in the stone. Eric gasped, unable to think of anything except...
"Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!!" "Fuck! I hate this damn place so much!!" He shouted in shock, kicking a heretic who had emerged from around the corner. He missed and was about to fall to the ground, then shot him in the head with his gun. Celianne grabbed my arm and pulled me along. She shielded me and Castra, not even caring that she had no armor. The screams of the fanatics grew louder. The sound of chains, axes dragging on the ground, and crazed religious shouts grew louder.
"Kill that Emperor-worshipper!" one of the heretics shouted before he saw his sister raise a grenade-like gun and shoot him dead.
Bang!
The sound was loud and the resonance clearly shook Sister's shoulders. Eric tried to ignore why she'd fired the gun. Judging by its caliber and magazine size, it must have had enormous recoil. How could she have fired it? Or perhaps her toned muscles would explain it.
The four of them finally managed to escape the back door.
Vann jumped out last, closing the door and blocking it with scrap metal. He breathed heavily, looking at everyone.
"Get to that alley!" Vann shouted loudly. Eric grabbed Castra's arm and led her. Celianne ran ahead of Vann, guarding the back. They ran deeper into the narrow alley, pursued by a horde of Khorne followers frantically.
The Khorne followers' footsteps followed like boulders rolling over metal. They shouted incessantly, like a raging storm.
Eric gasped. He let go of Castra and motioned for her to be near Sister Celianne, his left hand gripping the gun. The laser gun he was carrying was tight, and his broken right arm hung at his side. But it still "stings" every time I moved violently. When would he finally get a break from all this? Couldn't he just rest and recover?
"Erica! Watch out to the left!" Vann shouted from behind. He was stopping and shooting the heretics who got too close. He caught a glimpse of one of them approaching. Eric gritted his teeth, raised the gun with his left arm, trembling from the weight and stress, and pulled the trigger without aiming.
Pew! Pew! Pew!
The laser beam from his gun had almost completely pierced the heretic.
"Ouch... Why does it hurt so much now..." He nearly cried out as the pain in his ribs rose. Vann stayed close to the group, fearing he'd get lost or even killed. The four of them started running.
"Don't push too hard! Just a little more! We're almost out of the alley!" Celianne shouted, turning to me with a worried expression, but her legs kept running. Eric didn't know how many meters "a little more" Sister Celianne said, but it felt like over a kilometer. Castra ran beside Eric, her small hands gripping my bag tightly. She was panting, her shoulders shaking, but she didn't let go of the bag for a second. The four of them ran out of the narrow alley and into a slightly wider street. I was about to twist to fire another shot, but then a voice called out ahead.
"Stop! Imperials! Drop your weapons and get to safety now!" The voice came from another direction. Enic almost tripped, not in shock, but out of fear of the sight. The others reacted similarly.
Several PDF soldiers in armor similar to Vann's emerged from the corner of the building ahead. They stood in formation, armed with armor and lasguns. They initially aimed their guns at Eric's men, but they seemed to falter slightly when they saw Sister Celianne.
"Sister, we're from Saint Lucia! Get behind the lines!" one of them shouted again.
Celianne flinched for a moment, but then saw the Ecclesiarchy insignia on the unit leader's sleeve. She let out a breath, and the heretics trailing behind her were within sight. The PDF soldiers immediately formed a firing line. They fired in unison, effectively intercepting the heretics.
"They're friendly with us! Go!" Sister Celiane shouted. Eric didn't wait for another word. He and Castra ran into the PDF line, practically rolling. The PDF's lasgun fired back and forth behind him in a series of more orderly bursts than I'd ever fired a gun in my entire month.
"Hah! So tired…" Eric grumbled as he gasped. Vann followed, breathing heavily as well. But it didn't take long for him to get up and help the PDFs fight. Castra, by now, seemed exhausted.
Sister Celianne looked back at the PDF line, then back at Eric. She looked at him and said in the same warm voice she'd used when she'd carried him earlier.
"You did great, Erica… Did you hear that? Great." He wanted to say "yes," cutely, but he was too tired to speak. The PDF soldier's flashlight was shining directly at me. I closed my eyes before I heard a man speak.
"Sister, which church are you from?" a PDF soldier asked Sister Celianne. She was silent for a moment before answering.
"I'm from the church, in District 15. There are no survivors there. We're under attack by heretics and mutants," Sister Celianne replied, half-explaining. The PDF soldier nodded before walking out to reinforce the defenses and line of fire. In no time, all the heretics were dead or some had escaped.
Sister Celianne then spoke with their leader, though Eric wasn't entirely sure what they were talking about. Soon, the PDF soldiers took them to a hidden location where a truck was being stored. They then traveled back to the church or some sort of defense line.
.
.
.
.
After about an hour or two of driving,
with Castra leaning against something beside him, crammed with other soldiers, they passed through a fortified barrier built from rubble and guarded by a handful of PDF soldiers. Finally, he began to see the details of his destination. It was a magnificent Gothic cathedral, primarily black and gold in color. The surrounding area was lined with various gun turrets and defensive barriers, which looked incredibly solid. He felt a slight sense of relief.
Soon, he was ordered to get out of the vehicle and head to the back of the station for immediate screening to ensure they were safe and allowed to remain. The PDF officers led the four of them to the back of the church, into a hallway at the back of the church that had been converted into a survivor screening area.
The intermittent flickering of the lumen lamps made everything seem both safe and terrifying at the same time.
The worst part was the three Arbiters standing behind a metal table, fully armored in black, with helmets and face shields, and the sound of metal hitting the floor as they moved… It all made the atmosphere tense and difficult to breathe. He knew what they were like from just one encounter. They had to come straight. No respect, and even more terrifying. They were called in for questioning and screening, one by one. Celianne was questioned first, passing easily. Castra passed.
Vann passed like a soldier accustomed to it. Afterward, they entered another room. Only… he was left. Eric swallowed dryly when his name was called.
"Next… Erica de la Cruz." He took only a few steps forward, but each step felt like he was passing through an execution ground. He tried to smile politely, but his face felt as hard as uncured cement. He knew what these police were like from just one encounter.
One of the Arbites looked down at the data on the datapad.
Another looked at him from head to toe, as if he were being scanned. Another stood with his arms crossed, looking like a steel wall.
"Erica de la Cruz… A civilian from the Lower Hive, huh?" the Arbites sitting behind the desk asked him in an indifferent tone.
"Y-yes… Uh, yes," Eric replied, his voice so soft he could barely hear it. The tense feeling returned, like when an illegal weapon was found in a search. It was like being stared at by a strange gaze in the darkness.
Another Arbites asked, his voice so heavy it shook the air around him.
"Do you have chest pains, baldness, scalp scales, discolored skin, or dreaming or hearing whispers?" he asked. Eric immediately frowned at the question. What kind of woman is bald?
"No, I'm fine... just bruises... broken ribs... broken arm, I guess." Eric tried to speak confidently and without any nervousness. He tried to avoid eye contact, but he knew they were watching his every breath.
"So, what's the situation in the lower hive?" the Arbites asked, his tone demanding an answer.
Eric was quiet for a moment, gathering his thoughts. The situation down there was chaotic and terrible in his mind.
"It was terrible... I was a normal civilian living in Sector Z, and when I woke up about two days ago, everything was in chaos. There were crazy, psychotic people fighting everywhere... bald mutants... and non-humans... I made it out of there with that girl and another smuggler. And then we arrived at Sector E, which was full of walking dead and that smuggler was not spared, and finally, this kid and I were able to make it out," Eric explained, as best he could understand the situation and summarize it. The Arbites nodded slightly before jotting down something.
Until the Arbites holding the datapad put it down and spoke calmly, a voice that nearly stopped Eric's blood for a second.
"Civilian De La Cruz, you must undergo a thorough physical examination to confirm that you are not a Chaos Cultist or any of those mutants," the officer continued to speak in a calm tone. But for Eric,
the world seemed to freeze for a moment.
He gasped, speechless for nearly three full seconds. His mind was screaming, "Oh, no! Not now! Not this body! Not like this!"
He had just showered for the first time in months. He was still embarrassed when he saw himself in the mirror. And he needed an Arbites to give him such a thorough examination!? He was already embarrassed enough to strip off his shirt while alone!
"Um...wait... a thorough... examination... how thorough?" Eric stumbled, unsure. The three Arbites turned to look at him at the same time, as if the doors to the execution grounds were waiting for them. One of them responded calmly, his voice devoid of emotion, making Eric's skin tremble.
"Everything's detailed, civilian." All three looked up at the same time, as if Eric had just said the stupidest thing in his life, and Arbites had given him the shortest, most brutal answer.
Ouch...
Eric almost wanted to disappear right there, knowing he'd have to remove his shirt... or maybe... his underwear, and have three people who looked like iron walls stare at him, unblinking, inspecting every inch of his body... He felt it was a bit excessive... a bit of a violation of his privacy. But he didn't dare object, for he might be suspected, punished, or even shot.
"Yes... I understand."
Eric nearly stopped breathing. Oh, no way...
He just felt safe... oh my god!
His shoulders tensed, trying to compose himself, even though his mind was screaming:
No, Eric, you can't be inspected like this.
______________________________________________
Writer: Done. Eric barely escaped. This time, he would truly feel the imperial power of man, having lived in a place where the Church and Arbites had little access. And now in the church there must be priests with arbites, and you might even meet some normal machanicus.