CHAPTER 128 — THE SKY STRIKES BACK
The first round struck the SAM vehicle, shredding it in an instant. Metal fragments mixed with the remains of the crew inside the SAM vehicle. The remaining rounds tore through the unit, and the missile payload exploded in a secondary blast that destroyed the remaining structure entirely.
Debris and blood flew through the air, a grim testament to the overwhelming power arrayed against the humans.
The Ultramarines advanced. Their movements were deliberate, coordinated, almost elegant in their deadly precision. Bolters fired in rapid succession, the Dreadnought's Gatling cannon spun relentlessly, and the street became a battlefield dominated by forces far beyond anything Earth had prepared for.
Military resistance collapsed locally. The city itself seemed to tremble under the presence of these armored figures.
Back in the Joint Operations Center, the President and General Reeves watched helplessly. The screens showed devastation beyond imagination. Every plan, every calculation, every defensive measure was irrelevant in the face of this force. They had underestimated the power, the coordination, and the resilience of the Dreadnought and its companions.
And yet, through the fear, one truth emerged, the attack was unstoppable. The human brain sought order, tried to find patterns, but there were none. Conventional weaponry had no effect on these Individuals.
~~~
The Dreadnought stood amidst the ruined street, surveying the aftermath of its strike. The SAM vehicle lay in twisted metal across the pavement, black smoke rising from its remains. Concrete and debris littered the ground, and small fires flickered in the craters left by the missile's impact.
The battlefield was quiet now, but the Dreadnought's sensors were far from idle. Every movement, every disturbance in the air, was detected.
Above, the Dreadnought's optics caught something new. A rotary-winged aircraft moved across the sky. Its shape was unfamiliar, its speed steady, its intentions hostile. The Dreadnought did not need to identify it. Recognition was unnecessary. All enemies were threats, and threats were to be eliminated.
The massive armored figure turned toward a parked civilian car nearby. With a single, controlled motion, it gripped the vehicle with its Powerfist.
The car creaked and groaned under the enormous pressure but remained intact, held securely. The Dreadnought's sensors calculated trajectory, distance, and speed in milliseconds, tracking the airborne threat as if reading a map in its mind.
Then, with a grunt that reverberated through the street, it hurled the car skyward. The vehicle rotated perfectly, aligning with the Apache's path.
The Dreadnought shouted in a booming, metallic voice that echoed off the nearby walls:
"FOR THE EMPEROR!"
The car struck its target midair.
The Apache exploded in a violent eruption of fire and shrapnel. Twisting metal, black smoke, and flames rained down on the street below. The crew inside was gone in an instant. Windows rattled, and debris scattered across the pavement.
The shockwave knocked soldiers and rubble alike off their feet.
The Dreadnought did not pause to admire the destruction. Its optics swept across nearby buildings. Shadows shifted behind crumbling walls, soldiers attempting to hide among the concrete ruins. They thought themselves safe. They were wrong.
It lifted one of its ranged weapons and aimed carefully at a reinforced building. A single burst struck the structure, and concrete exploded, sending chunks flying in every direction. Soldiers behind it were crushed, eliminated before they could fire again.
A faint hum of satisfaction ran through the Dreadnought's systems. Luckily, no civilians had been harmed, the area had been forcibly cleared by the army.
Then, from above, the air itself seemed to split. A blur of blue and red descended with incredible speed.
Superman hit the Dreadnought mid-flight, slamming into its chest with enough force to send the giant staggering backward. The armored giant's legs braced against the street as it stabilized, halting its assault temporarily.
Titus and the Bladeguard froze. Bolters rose, aimed directly at the newcomer, who hovered just above the battlefield. Superman's eyes glowed red, his body tense with anger.
He scanned the destruction below: the craters, the ruined SAM launcher, the shattered vehicles, and the bodies of soldiers. His fists clenched. This devastation will not go unchallenged.
"Who are you?!" Superman shouted, voice cutting across the street.
Titus and the Bladeguard remained silent, unwavering. The Dreadnought reoriented itself slightly, its spinning Gatling cannon preparing for action.
Without hesitation, the Dreadnought opened fire. The spinning barrels sent rounds toward Superman, bullets tearing through the air with deadly speed.
He moved with equal swiftness, dodging each round with super-speed. The bullets struck nothing, harmlessly embedding themselves in the street or nearby debris.
Superman accelerated, closing the distance with the Bladeguard. He swung a fist at Titus, who barely raised his shield in time. The shield absorbed the full force of the blow, and Titus was sent flying, sliding across the street before finally coming to a halt.
Meanwhile, the Dreadnought advanced. Its steps shook the ground. Swinging its Powerfist, it struck Superman square in the torso.
Superman, expecting little, did not dodge. The blow sent him flying backward several meters. Minor blood ran from a small cut in his chest. The skin had cracked slightly, but he was otherwise unharmed.
Titus and the Bladeguards looked on, shock evident even through their visors. The Powerfist, though devastating, had caused only a minor wound to the Man of Steel.
Before the fight could escalate further, reinforcements arrived.
Gaius landed gracefully on the street, boots making a muted impact on the pavement. Behind him, Tony hovered, weapons deploying from his armor, scanning the battlefield.
"Superman, they are my warriors," Gaius said calmly, his voice carrying over the chaos.
Superman, furious, hovered and glared. "Why are they killing here?"
Gaius gestured toward the destroyed vehicles and buildings.
"The military attacked from the air. I also summoned my forces to conquer this city and secure supplies. Their presence left me no choice." His tone was indifferent, almost cold.
Superman's eyes glowed brighter, his body tensed. He scanned Titus and the Bladeguard, noticing something strange: two hearts, three lungs in each of them. Their physiology was… different. Barely human.
He suspected Gaius might be an alien as well, he couldn't see through Gaius's armor. He had wondered about this the first time they met, especially given Gaius's towering ten-foot height.
"You're mistaken if you think we're not human," Gaius said, sensing the suspicion. His Powerfist glowed golden, energy radiating from his knuckles. "We are genetically modified super soldiers for the Imperium of Man. We are Space Marines, foremost among the defenders of humanity."
Superman's gaze swept over the battlefield again, as if questioning, "Is this how a defender of humanity acts?"
Gaius gestured to the dead soldiers, the destroyed SAM launcher, and the broken streets. "Those soldiers are dead because they were in the way. They drew weapons. They opposed me. That is all. Nothing more, nothing less."
"Then why did these soldiers oppose you?" Superman asked, eyes narrowing.
"They did not comply with the orders I gave. That is all," Gaius replied evenly, unshaken.
Superman's fists clenched, red light intensifying in his eyes. He floated closer, anger and disbelief rising. Yet Gaius did not flinch. The Powerfist in his hand glowed, golden energy radiating across his armored arm, a clear warning.
Tony interjected, attempting to de-escalate. "Superman, you don't have time for this. We still have to go to the ship."
Superman paused. The internal struggle was clear, he wanted to stop the bloodshed, but time was critical. With a final, tense exhale, he decided. He flew straight toward the scout ship, leaving the battlefield behind.
Small groups of surviving soldiers watched him depart, hope fading instantly. Those who had thought the arrival of Superman might save them now understood the reality, they were entirely at the mercy of the Ultramarines.
On the street, the Dreadnought and Bladeguard remained poised. Their formation was perfect, weapons raised, every movement deliberate. The streets were littered with debris, fires flickered in damaged vehicles, and the concrete was scarred and broken. Conventional military resistance had been mostly destroyed, leaving only a few scattered groups in hiding.
Fear and shock rippled through the remaining humans. They understood, in some part of their minds, that they faced an enemy far beyond their preparedness. Superman's temporary withdrawal offered them no relief, the Dreadnought and its warriors were more than capable of continuing the assault.
~~~
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