Dense artillery fire rained down, engulfing the city in flames.
The roar of war shook the planet, echoing in every corner of the corrupted hive.
The forces of the God-Emperor were hitting the Anas Hive with relentless fury.
Their advance was unstoppable; defensive lines and fortresses crumbled in quick succession.
The rebel leader, Wall, looked at the holographic map with a look of absolute despair.
Originally, their situation was golden—they controlled most of the planet Atomal, and the grand sacrificial ceremony was almost ready.
Just a final push into the inner city of Tyrian Hive, and they could offer the entire world to their Plague God in exchange for eternal blessings.
But fate, she's a fickle mistress.
She can greet you with a smile one moment and throw a wicked curveball the next.
Just as Wall and his followers were about to secure victory for their beloved Father, the Corpse King sent a minion known as the Guide.
The Guide first retook control of low-orbit, helping the remaining loyalists secure the outer districts of Hive Tyrian.
Not long after, they recaptured the Stone Hive and defeated the Plague God's angel there.
Now, the Imperial forces had launched a massive counterattack, determined to wipe out the Pox God's blessing entirely.
"My Lord," a viscous, wet voice sounded.
The Great Sorcerer of the Plague Cult shambled up to Wall, panting heavily.
Blessed by Nurgle, his body was grossly bloated.
A tall, peaked hat, adorned with a brass fly, sat on his head, leaving only his large, scabby mouth visible.
His bloated abdomen swayed as he walked, occasionally oozing pus.
"What was the outcome of the ceremony?" Wall asked, a hint of desperation in his tone.
"Did the Almighty Father, the God of Life and Death, answer our prayers?"
The Great Sorcerer's voice was thick with defeat.
"No, there was no response.
The gods have forsaken us completely."
Though he'd expected it, Wall still looked shattered. Since the Battle of the Rock, the Plague God's angels had gone silent.
No matter how many sacrifices or communication rituals they performed, it was all for naught.
At that moment, an adjutant rushed in.
"My Lord, the Anas 011 Satellite City is lost. The Corpse King's troops are pouring into the Hive through the breach."
"Isn't Antonette there?" Wall demanded.
"He was killed in action.
Fleeing soldiers reported the enemy deployed Astartes," the adjutant stammered.
"Those hulking brutes pierced the zombie tide easily. The defenders suffered heavy casualties, and the defense line collapsed like a house of cards."
The adjutant's report made Wall's already pale face go sheet white.
"What's the play now?" asked the Great Sorcerer.
"We need to fall back to the Setos Hive immediately; it's still ours," the adjutant urged.
"That's all we can do," Wall muttered, filled with reluctance, but with no other options.
To stay here would only mean losing his life for nothing.
He wanted to remain useful and continue serving his loving Father.
Wall and his party moved fast.
After grabbing what they could, they evacuated along the designated route.
However, just as they moved a short distance from the command center, deafening horns and explosions blindsided them.
A massive War Titan suddenly loomed into view.
The Titans used their huge cannons to bombard the fortresses and the tide of zombies.
The already dilapidated buildings were reduced to rubble with their arrival.
They advanced like gods of war, flattening everything in their path, and bearing down on the command center.
"Why are they so fast?" Wall's lips trembled.
"I think you're their primary target, sir," the adjutant said.
"We must hurry!"
"Forget walking.
We have to bolt! Ditch everything and run!" Wall urged his men to abandon all gear and flee with only what they could carry.
They plunged into the rubble, fleeing in panic into the ruins shrouded in toxic fog.
Not long after, they found a few vehicles and managed to drive out of the hive.
As long as they could escape the battlefield, they had a great shot at survival.
Infantry equipped with exoskeleton armor surrounded the Zaku 01 War Titan, operating the mounted machine guns to fire at any approaching enemy.
Their job was to prevent hostiles from getting close enough to use sticky bombs or other means to blow up the Titan's joints.
"We are still one kilometer out from the target.
Step on it!" Rigby scanned the tactical map and saw the objective was within reach.
BOOM!
A rocket flew out of a building, heading straight for Rigby's Zaku Titan.The deflector shield flickered, detonating the rocket and absorbing most of the blast.
Some of the explosion's power still penetrated, stripping the paint and leaving a charred mark on the Titan's surface.
Seeing the damage report, Rigby's face hardened.
He swiveled the Titan's massive cannon and locked onto the building that fired the rocket.
"Go to hell, you heretic scum!"
A brilliant light flashed from the thick muzzle. Accompanied by a deafening explosion, the dilapidated building slowly collapsed.
When it hit the ground, the noise was deafening; countless fragments flew, and dust clouds erupted.
"That's what happens when you pick a fight with us." Rigby smiled, confirmed the ruins were clear, and continued moving.
The Titan cluster spearheaded the assault, piercing the enemy line and bearing down on the headquarters.
Tank clusters and infantry poured in like a tide through the gap, further expanding the advantage.
The rebel leader Wall managed to escape the center but was quickly spotted by Rigby and the other players.
Several fighter jets were dispatched, chasing and firing at the fleeing convoy.
Finally, with a deafening explosion, Wall's vehicle was flipped.
Realizing escape was hopeless, he holed up in a plague-infested fortress with his remaining troops.
The Archmage and six Psykers sacrificed themselves, transforming the fortress into a Foul Sanctuary in a desperate last stand.
The Sanctuary pulsed with Warp energy, and a noxious ichor seeped from the cracks in the walls.
Swarms of Rot Flies swirled around the fortress like a black cloud of plague, their buzzing sounding like the wails of the damned.
"We must never surrender to the enemy!" Wall roared a prayer of praise to Nurgle, urging his soldiers and believers to fight to the bitter end.
Knowing the remaining rebels would fight to the death, and that capturing them alive would cost several times the sacrifice, Daniel called off the capture attempt and gave the order to flatten the bunker and everyone in it.
"Your fortress is as ridiculous as you are, traitor! Feel the Omnissiah's wrath!"
Rigby and his companions wasted no time.
They bombarded the Foul Sanctuary with every Hellstrike missile and rocket the Titans carried.
The bombardment lasted for several minutes—a non-stop, deafening barrage.
When the smoke finally cleared, the accompanying infantry advanced to check.
They found the fort had been completely obliterated; the rebel leader and his men had been blown to pieces.
With Wall's death, the rebels in the Anas Hive shattered completely, dividing and fleeing in disarray.
The Imperial steel torrent flowed unimpeded, rumbling over the ruins.
Amid the hum of chainswords and the roar of meltaguns, the fleeing rebels fell like dominoes.
Unlike the battles of Tyrian and the Stone Hive, the Imperial Army had gotten a serious upgrade following the resumption of industrial production.
Ordinary soldiers wore powerful exoskeleton armor and moved quickly.
Coupled with the mechanization reforms, the army's marching speed was greatly increased, and most rebel soldiers were unable to outrun the pursuing Imperial troops.
The fall of the Anas Hive meant the rebels no longer posed a significant threat.
While they still controlled one hive city, much of it was destroyed, lacking a complete Void Shield or defensive firepower.
They were completely outmatched by the Empire's heavy bombardment and armored offensive.
Within days, the last hive city was seized by force.
With the final rebel leader killed, a golden light flared before Daniel, signaling the mission complete.
The sacred 'Wings' he had longed for were finally his.
In the Warp, a Battle-Barge was fighting tooth and nail through a terrifying Aetheric storm.
Without the guidance of the Emperor's Light, they were adrift in the Empyrean, unable to find a way out.
"Captain Thade, the Geller Field generator is at 30% capacity.
If we don't punch through the Warp quickly, we're dead in the water," a Magos in a scarlet robe told the fearless Dreadnought before him.
An old voice came from the armored sarcophagus.
"I figured the Astral Knights would go out in a blaze of glory—tragic, but a warrior's end. I never expected we'd be swallowed by the Empyrean."
A palpable sense of despair filled the Battle-Barge. If the Geller Field failed, their fate was sealed.
Some sailors prayed to the God-Emperor; others secretly hid guns and poison, hoping to meet their end with dignity and loyal to the Emperor.