Even though the sky was blanketed in gunfire and set ablaze, to the point that even sunlight was being choked off, you could still clearly see—by naked eye—an immense mass hanging overhead.
It was unmistakably a supermassive space station, or an orbital fortress.
And there wasn't just one.
Now, one of them had visibly changed from the state observed earlier. It looked partially inverted, and it seemed even larger.
That "larger" feeling was not an illusion caused by it flipping so that a broader face was oriented toward the surface.
It was larger because it was getting closer.
Vaguely, you could see flashes across its surface, and it even looked like it had cracked in places—forcing the mind toward the worst conclusion.
That colossal object was losing balance, slipping free of its orbit, and beginning to fall toward the surface.
And judging from its position, it was directly above the person at the center of the current viewpoint.
Meaning… it was going to hit here?
No—there was no "meaning," no "maybe."
It was falling.
Fragments shearing off had already met the atmosphere, igniting into blinding orange-red streaks as they screamed downward.
Those were not aircraft diving through the sky.
Nor was it a weapons drop.
The falling path had the unmistakable look of gravity's natural pull—no evasive intent whatsoever, even under fire from hostile aircraft.
Unfortunately, as the livestream host shifted perspective—moving his own position—it became harder to keep track of the orbital fortress's exact condition.
But one thing was certain.
He had to find a way to survive the impact shockwave of the coming heaven-and-earth collision.
…Ah, here it came again.
That mantis-like monster from before—still clinging like a curse.
[Fallen Angel Kuroneko: This thing is disgusting. Shameless beyond belief!]
[Tendo Civil Security Corporation: Agreed. It's vicious—so it can also do chameleon camouflage.]
This thing was an assassin.
If it were merely an ambush predator, that would be one matter.
But it wasn't satisfied with sneak attacks.
It was using hostage coercion—openly, shamelessly.
It had seized a group of children and slaughtered them right in front of him, forcing guilt into his chest, trying to keep him from running.
Worse still, when it struck him and he dodged, he returned fire—
And the thing threw a child into the line of fire as a living shield.
In short, this bug used humans as meat shields, even as thrown weapons, forcing him to hesitate and restricting his options.
And so—
…Tendo Kisara fell silent.
And he truly showed no mercy at all.
There was reluctance in his heart, but in this situation, his actions were coldly rational—correct.
In an environment more hellish than hell, those children dying cleanly to his gunfire was, in a grim way, release.
Otherwise, they would be seized by monsters, tortured, parasitized, and reduced to nourishment.
Compared to that, a swift death was mercy.
But if this continued—if he kept being entangled by this thing—his own situation would become lethal.
He had already been badly wounded underground fighting that pack of daemons and a traitor Astartes: one arm severed, his chest opened by a horrifying cut.
Now, it was obvious his mobility had fallen sharply compared to the moment he climbed out of that monster's "elevator nest."
…
The mantis-featured creature was a Tyranid bioform specialized in stealth and infiltration.
Its name was the Lictor.
Lictors could move at high speed in utter silence. Their chameleonic carapace concealed them, preventing prey from detecting their presence.
They were intelligent, and possessed highly sensitive sensory organs—able to observe from the shadows, eavesdrop, and "taste" their prey.
Under normal circumstances, with the battlefield in its current state, this thing should have been striking at human strongpoints.
Instead, it was fixated on him.
Clearly, it had marked him—judging that his DNA fragments were worth harvesting.
A nuisance.
So it began secreting pheromones, calling nearby Tyranid organisms to join the hunt.
It was obvious. Tyranids that had been locked in chaotic melee abruptly changed direction and sprinted straight toward him.
If this continued—if more and more joined in—escape would become impossible.
Hm?
It seemed that after its vile "make him pity the children" ploy failed, it simply threw away the last two hostages and vanished into camouflage.
As for the ones Kain shot, he was not truly unmoved.
He was not made of stone.
But what could he do?
In this moment, he could only keep forcing emotion down and dragging reason to the surface.
That was—
From his current position, near what looked like the edge of a cliff, Kain spotted a special aircraft.
It was elegant—almost ostentatious.
A noble's craft.
Seeing its flight path, he retreated without hesitation, then sprinted at full speed. Reaching the edge, he launched himself in a hard leap.
"I knew you'd seize this chance too!"
The pest that refused to let go had followed right behind, pouncing after him—closing even faster.
If this continued, he would be caught before he could land on the aircraft.
Kain curled his lips.
His power armour—everything except the arm and leg assemblies—detached all at once.
Like an Iron Man suit splitting into multiple independent blocks of flying metal, though it couldn't move with anything like that level of freedom.
Still, this was enough.
Those detached armour segments slammed toward the Lictor with deliberate precision.
And the melta warheads mounted on them detonated at the instant of contact.
The result was self-evident.
But there was no time to observe what the creature became.
Right now, he had to secure the aircraft.
The moment he landed, Kain exhausted every last scrap of strength to cling to it. The shriek of metal grinding against metal seemed to drag from the nose all the way to the tail before finally stopping—only then did he manage to hook himself in place.
It looked like a Thunderhawk Gunship, modified into something sleeker—almost like a futuristic strike craft.
But the weapon systems that spoiled the aesthetics had been stripped away.
Kain didn't waste time thinking about it.
He moved straight to the cockpit housing and fired a melta round to cut himself an entry hatch, forcing his way inside.
In the pilot's stunned gaze, Kain threw a single punch—sending the pilot flying and knocking out the lavishly dressed noble beside him as well.
He dropped into the pilot's seat, took the controls, and shoved the throttle to maximum without hesitation.
It surprised him.
With its remodeled outer shell, the craft looked more aerodynamically optimized—faster than a standard Thunderhawk, with sharper agility as well.
Next came the real problem.
The falling catastrophe in the sky.
That more-than-thirty-kilometer-wide mass had already pushed half its bulk into the atmosphere.
By the look of it, it was going to hit the hive city he'd just been standing in.
With the Thunderhawk's speed, escaping the direct impact zone would be easy.
But that wasn't the point.
The point was surviving the world-shattering shockwave and secondary devastation when the hive city was struck.
It was like a shell not hitting your body directly—but exploding beside you.
That was even more lethal.
(End of Chapter)
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