The voice from the comms caused Calgar's expression to change.
He rushed to a balcony overlooking the surface.
Looking up at the sky, the ground anti-air fire had stopped, and the void shield had vanished without a trace.
The rumbling explosions sounded again, causing the area he was in to shake violently once more.
"Doriel," Calgar called out to the tech-priest accompanying him, "Report the current situation."
"Energy pipelines destroyed, the energy reactor has cut power to the void shield, the void shield has fallen. Power supply units destroyed, overloading the generator arrays for the artillery."
A cold, mechanical voice came through the comms.
"Can it be repaired?" Calgar demanded sharply.
His tone was filled with anxiety and a hint of dread.
"Difficult, my lord. Seventy-five percent of our power is offline, the main energy control system is destroyed," the voice replied.
More explosions erupted from within, the rumbling tremors continuous, giant statues toppling in the blasts.
A group of Cadian Shock Troopers, unable to escape in time, were directly crushed into a bloody pulp.
Alarms blared everywhere, and comm channels were filled with calls for help and status reports.
"Energy lines have caused a chain reaction of overloads, and energy nodes are exploding everywhere, my lord," Doriel said.
"Damn it," Calgar's voice was filled with fury, "Shut down the power generation systems. All forces are to withdraw to the core area in sequence, contracting the defense line."
After giving the order, Calgar looked up at the sky.
The void shield had disappeared, and the tyranids were no longer facing any obstacles.
Swarms of winged beasts circled and plunged towards the hive city, biological plasma and venom bombs raining down upon it, entire defensive positions overwhelmed by enemy fire.
Large spore cysts fell from high altitude, landing on the ground with earth-shattering roars, and giant creatures crawled out of them, their deafening roars striking fear into the hearts of the defenders.
The communication network continuously emitted beeping sounds, all requests marked with the most urgent crimson.
Opening any random channel revealed reports of critical situations.
"My lord, our positions are surrounded by the tyranids."
"The fighter formations are unable to defend."
"The artillery positions are under attack, my lord."
Continuous rumbling sounds came from the sky as swarms of tyranids blotted out the heavens above the hive city.
A trace of despair appeared on Calgar's face.
With the void shield destroyed, they would face the biological tide of the tyranids head-on, one of the most terrifying nightmares this world had ever seen.
Countless biological artillery shells raged through the hive city, shattering the stones brought from distant worlds and carved into statues of Imperial heroes.
Fires raged intensely throughout the city.
On every level of the towering hive city fortress, the fires of war were rampant.
The tyranid aerial swarms and long-range firepower, now that the void shield was down, could move freely and unleash the ordnance they had held back for so long.
Meanwhile, on the crisscrossing ground highways of the hive city, vast numbers of tyranids surged into the city along the roads.
Giant tyranid creatures smashed through the colossal triumphal arches used for decoration.
Lithe genestealers climbed buildings, attacking the loyal defenders from all sides.
Winged tyranids continuously swooped down, landing on the battlefield and unleashing terrible slaughter.
Despair spread among the Imperial defenders, accompanied by death.
Against the terrifying, flood-like offensive, humanity was so fragile, desperately holding on with only remaining courage and the will to sacrifice.
Yet the universe was so cold.
And fate was just as cold.
It would not grant victory or success based on who was braver or who was stronger.
Under the tyranid assault, the Imperial defenders were forced to retreat step by step.
The light points representing units disappeared one after another, signifying total annihilation.
The Knights faced the same predicament.
Countless tyranids swarmed them, using overwhelming numbers to pin the Knight Titans to the ground, and using sharp limbs to dismember them.
They dragged out the naked pilots lying in their nutrient tanks, dismembered and butchered them.
"Die!" Aluken roared.
Pain and exhaustion surged continuously through his neural network.
The Warlord-class Titan he controlled bore terrifying wounds.
"The defenders of the Imperium never fear!"
Aluken roared.
He was the Emperor's sword, the Primarch's war machine.
An Angel of Steel of the Holy Imperium of Man, he had sworn to protect his people, and would never fear death.
"All forces retreat in sequence."
The voice from the rear command post came through the comms.
But Aluken moved against the tide of retreat, charging towards the enemy.
The core area was too narrow, and the Imperial forces were concentrated there, leaving no space for Titans to maneuver.
He had only one task left.
That was to assist other friendly units in their retreat.
Command had not given Aluken such an order.
But the final mission was known to every pilot.
This was their highest honor.
Every pilot was taught how, in dire circumstances, they needed to buy time for other units to withdraw and secure the greatest benefit for the Emperor.
"In this dark, desperate, futureless galaxy, we are all merely currency, used by the Emperor to purchase humanity's survival."
Aluken recalled a sentence his teacher had said during his student days.
At that time, he didn't understand.
Now, he understood.
Unfortunately, he could not go back, nor would he ever see that mentor again.
Looking at the biological Titans charging towards him, he knew he would die here; this was his final battle.
"May our souls all stand beneath the Throne."
Aluken switched communication channels and spoke to his crew members who had been with him for many years.
They likewise returned Aluken's final blessing.
"Let me see what you've got," Aluken murmured.
The Warlord-class Titan took heavy strides, charging towards the enemy first.
Its heavy, mountain-like body crushed smaller tyranid creatures in swathes.
Several Titans that were being surrounded were saved as a result.
"Withdraw, your mission should not end here. Guard the final positions and await the Primarch's arrival," Aluken said.
The Warlord-class Titan swung its iron hand, like a mountain, sending a group of tyranid creatures flying.
A dying Knight Titan was saved.
"By the Emperor, thank you for your help, my lord," a woman's voice came from the Knight Titan.
"Withdraw, leave this to me," Aluken said.
"Thank you," the Knight Titan limped away.
Its adamantium hull was covered in scars, and its hydraulic stabilizers were destroyed.
Its power sword was snapped, and its Titan weapons hung limply from its broad metal shoulders.
The pilot's heart was filled with the joy of survival and the shame of retreat.
This Knight Titan had been allowed to live.
But its destiny had long been sealed: to die on the battlefield.
The reason it was saved was that dying here would not bring the greatest benefit to the Emperor.
As the surviving Knight Titans withdrew, Aluken piloted the Warlord-class Titan to face the converging biological behemoths.
The massive cannons on its back fired instantly, causing a Hierophant Bio-Titan to let out a mournful howl, and then the Warlord-class Titan charged forward.
Its enormous iron hand gripped the thick, sharp horn, controlling it.
The power fist smashed through the Hierophant Bio-Titan's biological carapace like a cannonball.
The fully charged melta cannon was activated, aimed precisely at the wound unprotected by the carapace.
The scorching beam instantly vaporized and charred the flesh, successfully ending the creature.
Other biological Titans also attacked.
Brutal combat ensued.
The battle between the behemoths caused the surrounding area to tremble.
Aluken gave his all, yet victory was decided solely by strength. No matter how loyal or how hard he fought, he could not change his fate of defeat.
The stabilizers at his waist were shattered, and the Titan's legs trembled.
The pistons and hydraulics in his left leg were utterly destroyed and could no longer be repaired.
Cut hydraulic lines and fuel lines, like blood vessels, gushed out hydraulic fluid and fuel like blood.
The massive torque joint was ripped out, just like a spine being pulled out.
"I am the Emperor's sword, the Primarch's war angel."
Aluken controlled the Warlord-class behemoth, pinning down the tyranid behemoth, then activated the building-sized plasma cannon, delivering a final attack that killed the last biological behemoth.
The smell of charring spread, and the mournful howl of the biological behemoth slowly faded.
The Warlord-class Titan staggered to its feet, black smoke billowing from its entire body, its adamantium hull severely damaged, covered in wounds.
Around the battlefield lay several tyranid behemoths.
The tyranid behemoths that had surrounded him were all killed by the Titan controlled by Aluken.
However, his own damage was also horrific.
Through the cockpit's viewport, sparks could be seen flying from various parts of the Titan's body.
Extinguishing agents filled the vast steel body.
The machine spirit was wailing, and the crew had suffered heavy casualties from the recent battle.
The tech-priests responsible for maintenance recited prayers to the Omnissiah, preparing to meet their final death.
Aluken could no longer control the Titan.
He could only stand in place, like a proud warrior, facing the charge of the swarm.
The surging swarm climbed onto the huge steel body.
Sharp limbs pierced the armor, infiltrating the Titan's interior and engaging the crew in combat.
Aluken wanted to get up and join the melee, but several times he was too weak to move due to his severely weakened nervous system.
A small Hormagaunt crawled over and severed the neural nutrient tank, cutting him off.
Crimson blood mixed with nutrient fluid flowed out.
The dead eyes of Aluken stared fixedly at the golden double-headed eagle above the control room.
It seemed as if he was hoping the double-headed eagle would carry his soul from this suffering galaxy to the Emperor's Throne.
The battle in the void was also gradually heading towards defeat.
Facing the increasingly terrifying tyranid fleet, the Imperial fleet suffered ever heavier casualties.
Charred metal skeletons slowly drifted outward into the depths of space.
Battleships over a dozen kilometers long, when they exploded, were like distant supernova bursts, instantly illuminating the entire battlefield with intense light.
Sparse space torpedoes traversed the void, trailing long plumes of fire.
Macro cannon shells, in the dazzling explosions, appeared increasingly ineffective, only adding a few fiery blossoms to the vast swarm.
The thick beams emitted by the laser arrays were also ineffective, unable to achieve a saturation attack.
Aer surveyed all of this, a trace of sadness welling up in his heart.
The Storm Falcons responsible for commanding the void battle had suffered heavy casualties.
His flagship, billowing thick black smoke, was slowly withdrawing, breaking free from the tyranid encirclement.
During the withdrawal, a warship exploded, the intense flash causing the viewport's light sensors to adjust automatically.
The wreckage of the warship was dismembered in the flames.
The dead were thrown out of the warship, their bodies slowly floating.
Aer did not show sadness; when one has lost enough, one no longer feels sad.
Every minute, every second, loyalists were dying.
They played different roles in life.
Friends, lovers, comrades, brothers.
But on the battlefield, they were no different, merely forgotten corpses.
Everyone grieved for what they had lost.
But when too much is lost at once, the human soul becomes numb.
The ground signal was cut off.
The last information from the surface was that the void shield had been destroyed and the tyranids had surged in.
The defense had failed; they could not complete the Primarch's mission.
"Our void shield protection is decreasing."
"A wave of attacks incoming, maneuver immediately."
The crew's broadcast channels were filled with panicked tones.
The flagship's situation was getting worse.
Despair slowly surfaced in Aer's heart.
A violent jolt came, the flagship had suffered another round of attacks, the void shield wavered, and piercing alarms blared everywhere.
"We're finished!!" This thought flashed through Aer's mind.
Suddenly, a clear voice came through the previously chaotic communication channel.
Completely ignoring the impact of overflowing energy from the battlefield on communications, it resonated through the comms of all warships.
"This is the Macragge's Glory. We are about to enter the real universe."