The skies above Macragge were ablaze with unnatural, corrupted fire. Wounds that defied the laws of reality—rips in the veil between dimensions—opened up in the cold, dark void, spilling out bizarre colors and the foul power of the Empyrean.
The Despoiler was dead set on grinding Macragge into dust, just as he had Cadia. Leveraging the Warp's transit advantage, he had thrown every available Chaos force from various conflict zones straight at Macragge. The loyalist fleet was getting absolutely hammered, holding on by the skin of their teeth.
Chaos vessels were dropping Hell Talon fighters and Dreadclaw drop pods onto Macragge's surface, swelling the ranks of the heretic ground forces. They were laying siege to Hera's Fortress, aiming to destroy the stasis chamber—the last lifeline keeping Guilliman viable—to ensure the Lord of Ultramar would never make a comeback.
Standing on the bridge of the Imperial Glory, Daniel watched the swarms of red contacts and breathed a sigh of relief. He was cutting it close. If he hadn't made it in time, the resurrection of Guilliman might have gone sideways, just like he'd feared. Abaddon was throwing even more terrifying military assets into the mix to stonewall Cawl's efforts.
Under Sha's focused command, the fleet carved a path straight into the blazing heart of the battle. Swarms of torpedoes trailed long, fiery wakes, and macro cannon shells detonated with deafening fury, momentarily lighting up the black cosmos. Laser batteries lashed out in perfectly straight, dazzling beams.
Suddenly, a brilliant flash drew everyone's attention: an Imperial warship's void shields blinked out. The massive hull was slammed by multiple torpedoes, and its reactor detonated, going full supernova and illuminating the entire sector in its final, massive conflagration.
"Holy smokes, is this what a void battle looks like?" Spaceking gaped at the viewscreen. "The scale of this makes modern warfare look like a playground fight. It boggles the mind how much processing power this game must have to run simulations this detailed!"
Warmaster stood ramrod straight, staring out at the void with a curious expression. "Maybe this game isn't as high-tech as we think it is."
Mordecai rubbed his face, floating a new theory. "The game company probably has some kind of reality-bending dream-cognition technology. When we log in, our brains immediately buy into the reality of this world, making it the bedrock of our perception. That's why we don't notice the glitches; our subconscious fills in the blanks, making everything feel 100% real."
"What about the pain, though?" Warmaster asked.
"The pain and the sense of touch are just simulations," Mordecai explained. "They just tap into existing brain information or feed new sensory data in. It's a snap."
"Spoken like a true doctor, that makes perfect sense," BaldCustodian commented, giving a thumbs-up.
"It's nothing," Mordecai replied, waving a hand. "Just something I like to chew on."
The others nodded in agreement, profoundly struck by the theory. Maybe it truly was all just dream-cognition technology.
"Heads up!" Spaceking's warning snapped everyone back to attention. "We've got two Slaughter-class cruisers and a mess of escort ships coming in hot!"
They all rushed to the viewport, their eyes widening at the sight. Indeed, two Chaos Slaughter-class cruisers, flanked by escorts and swarms of fighters, were making a beeline for the Imperial Glory.
The Slaughter-class is a specialist vessel, built around the core concept of punch in the mouth—detonate—bug out. It's equipped with experimental Skitarii engine rings, giving it high speed, and it mounts a heavy concentration of powerful but short-range lances and macro cannons.
Due to a design flaw, its Gellar Field generators are notoriously glitchy, often developing holes. If the Gellar Field fails mid-Warp, the entire crew is doomed to instant corruption. The Imperium shelved the design, making the cruisers the exclusive domain of Chaos warbands, who have a much higher tolerance for minor defects like crew corruption.
As soon as they were in range, the enemy opened fire. A dense torrent of laser fire and missiles slammed into the Imperial Glory's void shields. The shields shimmered and crackled with purple lightning, diverting the incoming energy into the rolling currents of the Empyrean. But the ship shuddered violently under the impact. Red warning lights flashed and spun inside the bridge as the alarm blared.
"Target the Slaughter-class cruiser on the port side," Sha ordered calmly over the comms. "Concentrate the lances on a single quadrant to knock out its void shields."
Lance batteries are among humanity's most powerful weapons, firing long-duration, high-output beams of energy. After its upgrade by the Sha (Sha's people), the Imperial Glory's lances were significantly more potent.
As the order was carried out, blinding beams shot out from the ventral turrets. The Imperial Glory possessed six lance turrets—four on the broadside batteries and two mounted on the ship's dorsal spine. They adjusted their trajectory, focusing all six beams onto a single point.
The targeted Slaughter-class cruiser's void shields churned with Empyreal energy, attempting to deflect the lance power into the rolling tides of the Warp. However, under Sha's hyper-precise control, the Imperial Glory's energy allocation was flawless. Furthermore, Sha had already run complex calculus models to pinpoint the shield's weak spot.
As the lances maintained continuous fire, the Slaughter-class cruiser's shield generator overloaded and gave up the ghost. The shield flickered, then vanished, leaving a massive breach in the enemy's defenses. Bright lance beams instantly sliced through the thick armor plating. Torpedoes and missiles rained down through the breach, hammering the vessel's exposed hull.
Under the continuous bombardment, the Slaughter-class cruiser erupted in a catastrophic explosion. The blast wave was so ferocious it took out nearby escort frigates and fighters, dragging them down to hell right along with it.
"That was awesome!"
"Seriously! When do we get our own starship? I need to get in on that action!"
The members of the Hammer Chapter were also glued to the viewport, their eyes full of longing.
"I bet the next update drops after we save Macragge," speculated Dove. "They'll probably let players buy starships and actively participate in the crusade against xenos and Chaos fleets."
Sam nodded. "I'm with you. A plot point this big has to usher in a new gameplay system."
"I can't wait for ship purchases to be unlocked," Warmaster fantasized. "Hammer is going to assemble the first air-to-ground combat unit!" He imagined himself as a fleet commander, moving straight from void combat to ground assault in a giant suit of armor, cutting down enemies one after another in the name of the Omnissiah.
"Now that the Chief mentioned it, I have a crazy idea," Yuji scratched his head.
Rigby and the others looked his way. "Spill it. What is it?"
Yuji chuckled. "Could we reverse-engineer a StarCraft Viking fighter? We could switch from void combat to ground assault in the blink of an eye, tearing up the enemy on both fronts."
"A Viking fighter landing?" Dove gasped, taking in a sharp breath. "It looks cool, but you'll get one-shot by a Zerg Ultralisk!" The group momentarily pictured the Heart of the Swarm cinematic where the Viking transforms into a mech, only to be instantly knocked aside by a massive Ultralisk.
"Let's assume we can build it," Rigby said, hesitating. "The 'Doraemon Workshop' might not be on board."
"If the Doraemon Workshop won't do it, we can figure it out ourselves! The game doesn't forbid Warbands from recruiting Tech-Priests, and with Warhammer tech, we have a fighting chance to reverse-engineer it."
Yuji's words struck a chord.
"You've got a point," Rigby conceded. "The Warband definitely needs to recruit some Tech-Priests and build our own R&D branch. Plus, we need to set up some industries to fund the Warband's development and save up for new vehicle R&D."
"A Tech-Priest, you say?" Sam pointed excitedly. "We've got a ready-made one right here! Let's see if we can grind Cawl's reputation and get him to research a new mech for us."
The others stared at Sam, eyes wide. They couldn't believe the audacity of the guy. Trying to poach Cawl was on par with declaring your love for Yvraine right in front of the Regent.
"What's with the look?" Sam touched his face, thinking he had something on it.
Meanwhile, the other Slaughter-class cruiser hurtled past the Imperial Glory. Through the viewport, the Chaos warship rapidly expanded from a tiny speck into a massive, imposing cliff face. Its prow ram, previously a surgical blade of metal, was now a colossal, thick precipice, the clustered sensor spires and weapon batteries clearly visible. The players could even see the muzzle flash of the macro cannons firing and the electrical overload sparking off the laser array generators.
The two ships passed so close you felt you could leap across the void to the other. This close proximity set the players' nerves tingling.
"Give me a jump pack, and I'd be over there in a second!"
"I'd go full Rambo, fighting seven times in and seven times out!" Warmaster declared, his face burning with anticipation.
The others nodded in enthusiastic agreement.
Back on the bridge, Sha issued a new firing command. "Calculate enemy vessel speed. Portside rudder ninety degrees. Broadside fire, sweep the enemy cluster with sustained fire."
The Imperial Glory's maneuvering thrusters on one side fired up, causing the massive hull to begin a rotational maneuver. Then, the gigantic broadside macro cannons fired sequentially. The immense recoil shook the Imperial Glory's deck. The rest of the fleet followed the lead ship's maneuver, unleashing overwhelming firepower onto the Slaughter-class cruiser's void shields, igniting a continuous storm of explosions.
The shield generator frequently flashed, then overloaded. Plasma and thermonuclear warheads detonated against the enemy ship's hull. As flames erupted from the ship, coalescing into a colossal pillar of fire, its spine fractured. A second later, the reactor exploded, the vessel instantly engulfed in a perfectly shaped yellow sphere—a miniature sun.
"Target successfully destroyed." A voice announced over the comms.
The bridge crew erupted in cheers.
"Incoming communication request," a crew member shouted. "Authentication passed. Commander of the Macragge Garrison Fleet requesting a line."
Sha looked at Daniel, who gave a nod, allowing her to order, "Patch it through."
The projection device resolved into the image of a tall, imposing officer with a cybernetic eye. "Thank you for your assistance. I am Ceryn, Commander of the Garrison Fleet."
"I am Commodore Shalatath," Sha introduced herself.
"Chapter Master Calgar has authorized your landing, but the spaceport is currently under heavy siege. We cannot provide you with a clear path to dock," Ceryn stated. "If possible, you are authorized to airdrop directly onto the surface. Chapter Master Calgar will open a secure corridor for your descent."
After the communication ended, Daniel, Cawl, Amalrich, and the others quickly reached a consensus: abandon the spaceport and airdrop onto Macragge's surface, then proceed directly to Hera's Fortress.
"Go, Master," Sha told Daniel. "I will hold back the villains in the void."
"Thank you, Shalatath."
Daniel turned and left the bridge. He had to lead the landing party, including Cawl, onto Macragge's surface and reach Hera's Fortress to revive the Primarch. This mission was too critical to risk failure.
Under the cover of allied fire, the Imperial Glory reached the designated coordinates. The next second, drop pods and transports rained down like hailstones, plunging into Macragge's atmosphere.
Macragge City was now engulfed in total war. Ground-based anti-aircraft guns relentlessly swept the skies, trying to keep pace with the swirling Hell Drakes and traitor fighters.
The aircraft circled over Hera's Fortress, weaving between soaring statues and colossal buildings, strafing the defenders or dropping tons of bombs onto ground targets. Vast areas were swallowed by fire; magnificent sculptures collapsed, and marble columned temples were reduced to smoking ruins. Loyalist fighters were locked in deadly dogfights, attempting to seize air superiority.
The gunships rapidly lost altitude, speeding toward the area designated by Calgar.
The enemy quickly detected Daniel's arrival. Several Hell Drakes shrieked wildly, beating their wings and rushing in to attack.
Boom!
A troop transport was ripped apart and exploded into a fireball in the sky. Several surviving soldiers screamed as they tumbled toward the ground, to be smashed into a bloody pulp alongside the dead. Blood Pigeon and other players controlling Valkyries and escort fighters tried to intercept the enemy, but the enemy numbers were too great, and the Chaos aircraft were impossibly hard to kill.
Daniel felt the transport gunship shudder violently under the ferocious enemy fire. Concerned for Cawl and the irreplaceable Armor of Fate, he ordered the ramp opened and leaped out, drawing a Power Lance given to him by Cawl.
He unfurled his pristine white wings and, under the gaze of everyone below, surged toward a charging Hell Drake.
The Hell Drake was a blasphemous creation—a fusion of man, machine, and Daemon—with a wingspan far exceeding that of a Storm Eagle gunship. Daniel's Power Lance pierced the armor plating of the Hell Drake's head, revealing the slimy, fleshy cockpit within. A pulsating tumor, studded with mouths and sharp teeth, writhed inside.
That thing had once been a proud Space Marine. But when they abandoned the Emperor and embraced the Dark Gods, the malignant power of the Warp twisted them. The pilots were made ever more hideous and repulsive, their pain, despair, and hatred becoming the very fuel that powered the Daemonic Engine, their flesh and soul fusing with the twisted machine to become the Hell Drake.
"Tearing a Hell Drake apart with his bare hands? Is the Guide's combat power this nuts now?"
"He's a Great Daemon for the Emperor, so he must be the paving stone."
"Paving stone? What's that mean?"
"It means he's got the rocks for it, you dummy."
Daniel couldn't hear the players' crude commentary. After tearing the Hell Drake to pieces, he lunged at the next enemy. After swiftly downing several more of the Chaos aircraft, his performance was dazzling.
The ground forces quickly noticed the anomaly in the sky: a giant, winged figure, over three meters tall, wielding a Power Lance and slaying Hell Drakes.
"Sanguinius?"
In Hera's Fortress, Chapter Master Calgar's face registered profound shock and doubt. Unfortunately, no one could answer his question.