Alex Emry finally understood why the streets had been crawling with armed men—the underhive gangs were about to fight over territory.
A hive city was a monstrosity beyond imagination, housing tens of billions of souls stacked layer upon layer.
Planetary Governors often could not—or simply would not—control the lower hive. Where authority withdrew, power rushed in to fill the void. That was how the great underhive gangs were born.
Alex chose to accept the mission.
That was how extraction-game contacts worked: the more jobs you completed, the higher their favour rose—and the better the goods they were willing to sell. Rewards scaled up too.
There was no downside.
"Ten guns, right?" Alex said."I'll check the surface battlefield. Wait for my message."
Nepal put on his standard fake smile.
"May the God-Emperor watch over you, my good customer."
Alex left with the mission, exiting Fertiliser Gang territory and heading for the surface through the steel corridors.
Five minutes later, a green countdown appeared in his vision.
Deploying…Map: Northern War Zone10… 9… 8… 7…
When the countdown hit zero, Alex vanished from the tunnel. His vision went white.
When sight returned, he was standing in farmland thirty kilometres outside the hive.
This was the true strength of the Search-and-Extract system.
Once you chose a raid, you were deployed directly to a secure insertion point, skipping hours of travel.
Extraction worked the same way. That ventilation-shaft exit point was more than twenty kilometres from the hideout in real terms, winding deep beneath the hive.
Running it on foot—especially while loaded with loot—would be pure hell.
Teleporting straight back from the extraction zone was infinitely more efficient.
Raid entered successfully.
Alex surveyed the terrain.
This was a farming compound. Most of the buildings had been wrecked by artillery, leaving only two relatively intact three-storey concrete structures.
He crouched low, used the darkness for cover, and crept closer. He paused, listening carefully.
No movement. Empty.
He climbed in through a window and began looting.
Agri-World 496b had two moons, giving decent nighttime visibility once your eyes adjusted.
By moonlight, Alex examined the room. It was a worker dormitory—sixteen rooms per building, housing labourers who tended the surrounding fields.
He searched thoroughly but found nothing of value. The area had been ravaged repeatedly by both traitors and the PDF. Anything useful had long been stripped away.
But in the innermost room on the third floor, his hand brushed against something beneath the bed.
A crudely carved wooden statue of the Emperor, about the size of a thermos.
"Holy—small gold drop!"
Alex checked the system.
Item: Wooden Effigy of the EmperorRarity: GoldEstimated Value: Priceless
Description:A privately carved devotional icon made by a farmer.The craftsmanship is poor, but the faith behind it is sincere.The effigy retains a faint trace of belief-energy.
Use:Required for Shrine construction in the hideout.
Alex's eyes lit up.
This was a hideout upgrade item.
Once a shrine was built, ordinary water and oil could be processed into holy water and sacred oils.
Drinking holy water could cleanse minor Warp corruption
Sacred oil applied to the face helped resist daemonic influence
Sacred oil applied to melee weapons granted increased effectiveness against Chaos entities
Grinning, Alex stowed the effigy and moved on to the second dormitory.
Nothing.
Not even scraps.
"This place is beyond broke."
Alex shook his head and opened the system map.
Two options:
Trenches, three kilometres north — likely to contain military gear and weapons, but currently held by traitor forces
Grain Station, four kilometres northwest — pre-war logistics hub, now a traitor-controlled settlement with heavier presence
Where to loot?
Alex hesitated. He was armed with nothing but a knife. One armed traitor would be enough to kill him.
His favourite scenario was always the same:Freshly finished battles. No cleanup. Both sides distracted.
And then—
Gunfire erupted from the direction of the trenches. Heavy weapons. Explosions. The night came alive.
Alex immediately hit the dirt, diving into ruined cover, listening carefully.
Most of the gunfire was PDF-pattern autoguns.The explosions weren't heavy artillery—more like a large-calibre autocannon, likely vehicle-mounted.
PDF infantry with armour support.
This was a night assault on the traitors.
Perfect.
Alex didn't move immediately. Timing mattered. Run into the wrong moment and you die.
The fighting lasted over twenty minutes. The autocannon thundered relentlessly—solid rounds, likely 40mm.
A vehicle mounting that calibre?
According to PDF structure—a Chimera APC.
Soon, the sounds began shifting.
That meant one side had broken.
The traitors were retreating toward the grain station. The PDF was pursuing, pushing the advantage.
Alex burst from cover and sprinted for the trenches.
Both sides would be focused on the chase. No one would be cleaning the battlefield yet.
He had to loot fast—before the PDF circled back.
When he reached the trenches, there was no one left.
Only the thick stench of propellant and blood.
PDF troops and the Chimera were already advancing in pursuit. Gunfire echoed farther and farther away.
Alex dropped into the trench.
He yanked an autogun from a traitor corpse, slung it over his shoulder, then grabbed a second… a third.
This had been a company-scale engagement.
The PDF had committed around a hundred infantry and one Chimera, launching a night ambush.
The traitors numbered roughly two hundred. Caught off guard, they'd been slaughtered.
Bodies littered the trench—some killed by kinetic fire, others shredded by autocannon blasts.
Within minutes, Alex had seven autoguns hanging from him, plus twelve spare magazines stripped from corpses.
Total load: 53 kgEncumbrance: YellowMovement Speed: –30%
Seven here, three already stored—enough to complete Nepal's mission.
Alex didn't get greedy.
He turned and ran.