The battle for the Upper Hive raged on beneath a sky choked with ash and smoke. The soldiers of the First Legion, wholly focused on the war effort, remained unaware of the grim revelations unfolding at the spire.
This was total war. Regint 47, under Klein’s command, had no reason to remain behind guarding the fortress in the Underhive, such caution was deed unnecessary. Instead, they had joined the offensive, driving deep into enemy lines with unrelenting force.
Now, in a district on the eastern edge of the Upper Hive, Klein sat inside a modified Leman Russ battle tank, commanding the battle while keeping his eyes locked on the cracked ferrocrete roadway stretching ahead.
The enemy was breaking; their cohesion shattered. Many had begun a desperate retreat, abandoning fortified positions to vanish into the smog-drenched labyrinth of the hive city.
But a few fanatics, realizing their inevitable demise, chose to make a desperate last stand, strapping explosives to their bodies and launching suicidal charges.
....
Klein noticed a sudden drop in return fire from their forward position.
Then, scattered enemy figures erged from the trenches and buildings, unclipping smoke grenades from their belts and hurling them forward.
Thick clouds of phosphorescent smoke erupted, rapidly blanketing the narrow streets in an opaque haze that shimred under the glow of burning debris.
"Switch to thermals, now."
Klein’s command was swift, though unnecessary.
The veterans of Regint 47 had already activated their Praetorian-pattern helt optics. Augur arrays dissected the battlefield in seconds, rendering the enemy’s smoke screen completely useless.
The enemy’s smoke cover was utterly ineffective. Rather than concealing them, it only made their glowing heat signatures stand out more vividly against the haze.
Oblivious to this, the enemy fighters burst from cover, each burdened with an array of explosives.
So carried lta bombs, others had bundles of grenades lashed together, while a few simply bore sacks brimming with volatile powder charges.
"Purge them" Klein commanded.
The grav-shield drones deactivated their protective barriers montarily, allowing an uninterrupted barrage. Lasguns flared in synchronized volleys, the main cannon of the Leman Russ roared, and the heavy bolters mounted on the tank's sponsons raked the enemy with thunderous precision.
The enemy fell in waves. Bodies tumbled to the ground or were outright vaporized by heavy weapons fire. Their explosives detonated upon impact, triggering violent secondary explosions that shook the ground beneath them.
The deafening blasts would have rendered any unprotected soldier instantly deaf, but the advanced filtering systems of the Praetorian-pattern power armor negated the concussive noise. anwhile, the grav-shields, now reactivated, humd faintly as they deflected the lethal storm of shrapnel and debris.
"Push forward. No delays." Klein’s voice cut through the vox-network.
Regint 47 engaged bio-scanners and pushed forward, swiftly reaching the enemy's forr defensive line.
The fortifications lay at the heart of the district, a jumbled fortress of shattered barricades and heavy weapon emplacents within once grand buildings, opulent structures of the Upper Hive elite were now little more than charred husks and bullet-ridden shells.
But none of it mattered.
Klein paid little attention to the remnants of enemy defenses. His focus was elsewhere. As his Leman Russ hover-skirted over debris, gliding smoothly atop the rubble-strewn road, his eyes locked onto a grand, half-demolished mansion ahead.
Half of it had been obliterated by artillery fire. Its marble façade was cracked open like a split skull, spilling luxury into ruin.
"Check it. See if there are any survivors inside," Klein instructed his soldiers.
"Sir, bio-scanners show—"
"Go check. Now"
The troopers hesitated. The scanners indicated no living presence other than their own, but he noticed sothing off about Klein’s deanor. Without questioning further, he proceeded into the ruins to conduct a manual inspection.
The result was unsurprising.
"Report: No survivors found inside, sir. Only enemy corpses in what’s left of the bedrooms and kitchen."
"Hah…"
Klein let out a slow exhale, heavy with sothing deeper than fatigue.
Hearing the confirmation that there were no civilian casualties, he allowed himself a mont of relief.
"If there are no civilian bodies, that ans they must have escaped, right?"
His tank crew exchanged uneasy glances.
Unlike the rest of the soldiers outside, they knew the truth, this mansion had once been Klein’s family estate.
Before Klein could say anything else, a holographic projection of Qin Mo appeared on the command interface before him.
Klein imdiately straightened, saluting as best as he could within the confines of the tank.
"Lord Commander." he acknowledged.
"I found sothing at the spire," Qin Mo stated. "Sothing concerning your family."
Klein’s heart sank.
"I’m not sure if you’re ready to hear it," Qin Mo added.
Klein clenched his fists. He already knew what was coming. He didn’t need unnecessary details, just a single answer.
"Are they alive?" he asked.
Qin Mo tapped the air a few tis. A data-feed stread directly into Klein’s visor. A silent, unspoken confirmation.
Klein watched.
His grandfather, along with other family mbers, was herded into a cage. Their expressions were calm at first, almost relieved, as if salvation was at hand.
Then, realization dawned.
Their faces contorted in terror as they grasped the truth, their "sanctuary" was a prison.
Fire ignited the air, unnatural and hungry.
The flas shifted from orange to an eerie blue, consuming everything. Within seconds, everyone in the cage had been reduced to ashes.
Klein’s body trembled.
His mouth opened, he wanted to scream, to cry out, to say sothing, but no words ca.
Only a faint, strangled whimper escaped his throat.
His breath grew erratic, his hands clenched so tightly that his gloves strained against his fingers. His rage, his sorrow, both flared, then collapsed inward, leaving only emptiness.
His expression beca blank.
"Exit the tank and prepare for teleportation. Transfer your command to your second-in-command," Qin Mo instructed. "If you wish to speak, I will be waiting in the fortress tunnels."
Klein’s empty gaze flickered, and then—
"They deserved it." he whispered coldly.
The tank crew stiffened.
"Why didn’t they listen to ?" His voice was sharp, bitter. "Why didn’t they co with to the Underhive? Those short-sighted fools deserved this fate!"
The frustration boiled over.
Klein had warned them.
During the pre-war standoff, he had personally returned to his family estate, urging all of them to evacuate to New Kato.
His family wasn’t like the parasitic aristocracy that infested the Upper Hive. They were leaders, generals trained in military academies, engineers skilled in grand construction.
New Kato had room for minds like theirs.
And yet, none of them listened.
Klein had grieved for them as a son and grandson. But now, as a soldier, he saw it for what it was: They had been given a choice. They refused. And they paid the price.
"Are you certain you can still command?" Qin Mo asked.
"I am certain," Klein answered, his tone disturbingly calm.
Qin Mo believed him.
Klein was not one to let emotion dictate his actions. There was no need for further interference.
"Then keep fighting," Qin Mo said, terminating the transmission.
Klein imdiately resud command. His hands moved over the scanning console, expanding the bio-scanner range. He needed full visibility on both friendly and enemy positions.
"All units, continue advancing. Rember the protocol: in urban warfare, the bio-scanner must always move ahead of us," he ordered.
Regint 47 pressed forward.
With bio-scanners active, they swept the streets, securing the next objective.
Enemy fire teams hidden in buildings were swiftly detected, long before they could ambush the advancing forces.
And then, in the blink of an eye, the Thunderborns struck.
Appearing from seemingly nowhere, they smashed through entire structures, pulverizing entrenched defenders before they could react.
As the main force advanced, artillery preemptively reduced enemy fortifications to rubble.
Even without the luxury of teleportation strikes, the First Legion remained an unstoppable force.
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