"Honor the blood of the fallen!"
Boom!
A sound like muffled thunder registered in the sensory systems, and by then, the crimson Angel had already closed the distance.
Slash!
First ca the sound of a power field cleaving through thick carapace, followed by a streak of deep green plasma that brushed past the abruptly halting Angel and shot straight into the sky.
The bloated body of a plasma cannon bug collapsed. Its lethal strike had missed its mark, and its life had co to an abrupt end.
The Hive Tyrant was montarily stunned, staring at the Angel who should have crashed headlong into the plasma blast.
Yet the Angel neither retreated nor displayed any other emotion, rely stepping forward with pure, unadulterated fury.
What a pity, it was completely beyond prediction!
Before those heavily armored Tyrant Guards could surround him, Karna swept his spear upward. Standing before the completely exposed Hive Tyrant, he leaned back, channeling every ounce of his strength into the weapon. Then, he lunged forward, stomping his left foot violently against the ground.
Crash!
With Karna at the epicenter, the molten slag, shredded flesh, and shattered carapace on the ground bounced into the air. Using his left foot as a pivot, he hurled his spear with unbridled ferocity.
Crack!
An explosive sonic boom shattered the air, sending a multicolored shockwave rippling through the atmosphere. The spear beca a teor, piercing forward with unstoppable montum.
The Hive Tyrant stumbled backward in panic. The weapon, wreathed in a power field, pierced through the psychic Force Field, tearing a massive gash into the thick armor of its exoskeleton.
The Angel did not remain idle. Pumping his arms in a frantic sprint, he caught the spear just as its montum waned, seamlessly transitioning into an endless, punishing barrage of thrusts and slashes.
Already flustered by the sudden ambush, the Hive Tyrant simply could not withstand this torrential onslaught and was forced into a desperate, continuous retreat.
It retreated away from the protective swarm of its guards, away from the chaotic main battlefield.
Ultimately, it stepped right into a solitary cage built for a duel to the death.
How had he found his target?
Its thoughts sluggish beneath the tempestuous assault, the Hive Tyrant froze in montary stupor.
The Hive Mind, still busy coordinating its synaptic nodes, had not even registered the threat before the impossible occurred.
The Hive Tyrant acting as the command node had been located. All its camouflage and tactical deceptions had proven utterly useless.
Even the Hive Mind itself had been unable to pinpoint the enemy commander, forced instead to continuously launch decapitation strikes against human frontline officers in hopes of forcing an opening.
So how exactly had this single entity seen through the swarm's disguise?
That was a question that would likely never be answered. At the very least, the Hive Mind had no ti to ponder it now, for it was forced to confront sothing far too real.
Killing intent—a murderous aura practically overflowing with boundless, searing rage.
"Sever, cleave, butcher!"
The crimson Angel was completely subrged in a frenzy of wrath. Any standard combat algorithms or tactical templates paled in comparison to his entirely unpredictable and utterly lethal assault.
"Burn, my enemy!"
His booming roars did nothing to slow his movents. The spear swept horizontally, conjuring a ring-like arc of energy that carved straight through the surrounding swarm.
The Tyrant retreated once more as its loyal guards scrambled to catch up.
Under the imnse pressure of the battle, the already precarious Hive City structures ford deep fissures right down their centers. Towers began to tilt and collapse. As massive architectural modules ripped the ground apart, countless gallons of prothium violently sprayed from severed subterranean pipes.
Trying to survive?
A blurred afterimage pierced straight through the dust cloud.
Karna swung his bladed spear, forcing the Tyrant right off a precipice.
Fine.
He imdiately plumted after the beast, raising the tip of his spear to aim directly for the Tyrant's skull.
Clang!
It was another brutal clash of blades.
The Hive Tyrant managed to block the strike. Its massive, psychically-forged bone sword caught the power-wreathed blade of the spear.
The monstrous creature had finally caught up to the rhythm of the fight.
Swoosh!
Another savage slash ca sweeping in. The behemoth hastily retreated while the Angel stood firmly in place.
The crimson Angel tilted his head slightly as fresh blood trickled down his cheek.
"Roar!"
As if responding to Karna's battle cry, the Hive Tyrant let loose another deafening roar. Its deep green psychic aura grew increasingly profound as the Hive Mind drew power back from its lesser synaptic nodes.
Flicking the blood from his face, Karna stepped forward. His pace quickened with every stride, charging headlong into the baptism of psychic shockwaves. He moved as if completely oblivious to the destructive arcs of energy that were hot enough to lt solid tal.
Humanity had paid an astronomical price to hold the line against the alien swarm. Defensive lines were steadily collapsing, critical infrastructure was lost before it could be salvaged, and countless lives were being extinguished with every passing second.
Against such an onslaught, the only choice had been to retreat!
"Co, face ! Face your inevitable end!"
The Angel violently tore his way through the psychic storm. The raw energy dissipated the mont it touched him; its extre, blistering heat could only leave glowing, molten scars across his ceramite armor.
Clang!!!
When the two titans clashed once more, the spear slamd into the midsection of the bone sword, forcefully knocking the psychically charged Tyrant backward.
Karna continued his relentless, forward march. Every human sacrifice had been refined into raw, unadulterated emotion, etched permanently onto his handso features.
An emotion known simply as unstoppable, righteous fury.
"Co and face your death!"
"..."
The command center was dead silent.
From an aerial perspective, the path carved by the Angel was nothing short of breathtaking.
A massive, distinct fissure now scarred the Hive City, extending all the way from the edge of the battlefield straight into the vicinity of the Forge World installations.
Along the path baptized by the Hive Tyrant's psychic onslaught, not a single intact structure remained. Yet, amidst the utter devastation, the Angel stood as a blazing beacon. The surging psychic energies had scorched his armor, plating it in glowing, molten fractures that made him look like a brilliantly shining ruby from afar.
The situation on the frontlines also underwent a rapid transformation. The relentless alien offensive that had deeply troubled Romulus suddenly eased. With so much of its synaptic network diverted to a single battle, the surrounding swarm grew disorganized and sluggish, entirely losing its previous deadly edge.
As for the remaining human forces—soldiers who had been fleeing for their lives just monts ago—they exchanged bewildered glances before finally tightening their grips on their weapons and turning back to face the enemy.
"The defensive lines are holding."
Within the 'Broken Sword' command post, Colonel Kovek lowered his Binoculars, then instinctively clutched his right arm with a grimace.
His organic right arm had been cleanly severed in battle, replaced now by a rigid, chanical prosthetic.
Truth be told, he was incredibly fortunate. When Kovek was ambushed by a deadly Tyranid assassin beast known as a Lictor, a squad of Carcharodons had happened to be patrolling nearby.
"Humanity has been gifted another chance."
The Commissar rubbed his temples in exhaustion. Honestly, two straight months of chemical combat stimulants couldn't hold a candle to the morale boost of a single charge by the Angel.
That was the sheer, miraculous power of personal charisma. The exact sa action, perford by two completely different individuals, could yield vastly different results.
So legendary figures could project their unyielding resolve into the hearts of every single soldier through just one simple, decisive action.
And the ssage that the crimson Angel conveyed to them was crystal clear—
Nowhere is safe. The only way to claw back a chance at survival is to stand side-by-side with those who fight. Running guarantees death. Hiding guarantees death. The alien predators will devour every last one of you and pick the bones clean.
The Combat Power guarding the chanicus Sanctum is reserved for far more critical assets; do not harbor the foolish hope that they will ride out to save you.
There is no room for wishful thinking.
Because even the Angel of The Emperor himself has no choice but to lay his very life on the line.
This is a war where absolutely everything must be gambled!
This is a war where there is no turning back!
The tyranid swarm's heavy ranged bioweapons blasted through thick armor plating, sending explosive shockwaves rolling through the spacious interior.
The panicking, chaotic crowds halted almost in unison. They gazed up at the searing contrails lingering in the sky, frozen in place like stone statues.
"They're right. I never should have run,"
A young guardsman muttered as he was the first to turn around. Clutching his weapon tightly, he marched right back into his familiar trench.
Fleeing would only expose the flanks of his brothers-in-arms to the enemy's rending claws. After they fell, his own retreating back would be torn open. And after him would co his family. Everything he was, everything that made him human, would be utterly devoured.
"Damn right! Let's take those alien bastards down with us!"
More and more retreating soldiers surged back to the frontlines and snatched up their weapons. The grim specter of death was already standing shoulder-to-shoulder with them, and all they could do now was sell their lives dearly for a fighting chance.
How much difference could the strength of a single person truly make?
The righteous fury of an Angel could crush a hundred foes and force a Hive Tyrant into retreat. The devastating psychic spells of a sorcerer could sweep away thousands of enemies, forcibly tipping the scales of an entire war.
But compared to the sheer scale of a grinding war of attrition involving countless millions of humans and swallowing up nearly half a Hive City, even those mighty beings were sowhat insignificant.
A true hero was simply a pioneer who seized the absolute perfect mont to lead. Their greatest purpose was to awaken humanity's dormant, primal desire for 'survival', allowing them to wield the collective will of mankind like a colossal hamr capable of shattering any enemy.
It only took a single brilliant act of leadership, a single synchronized shift in montum.
The crumbling defensive lines miraculously restabilized. And a battered, desperate people teetering on the edge of destruction finally clawed back a fleeting chance at 'survival' from the ravenous jaws of the endless Tyranid swarm.
They had no room left to retreat!
Reviews
All reviews (0)