Among the many worlds that exist in Ultramar, the world of Sathus is considered relatively prosperous.
It possesses a certain level of industrial capacity, yet unlike the excessively developed industrialized hive worlds, it is not constantly covered by the roar of furnaces and smoke, nor does it lack sunlight or fresh air.
The roads in the urban areas and the factory buildings generally have wide green belts.
At the tops of the towering chimneys, advanced filtration systems are installed that can purify emissions to a nearly invisible level.
The streets are straight and wide; order and rationality permeate everywhere.
During the Great Crusade, anyone who visited any city in the world could feel a positive and optimistic attitude toward life.
The people of this land believe that Guilliman will lead them and realize a brilliantly planned future.
However, before that promise could be fulfilled, slaughter and violence arrived first.
The Shadow Crusade initiated by Angron and Lorgar spread to this world as well.
The Battle of Calth was the event that announced the beginning of Chaos in the Five Hundred Worlds of Ultramar.
The Ultramarines suffered enormous damage from the Word Bearers' betrayal and ambush, and lost the greater part of their fighting strength.
Yet Lorgar and Angron were not satisfied with this.
Thus the Word Bearers and the World Eaters formed a gigantic combined army.
Their Shadow Crusade, like a spear forged from hatred and madness, thrust deep into the core of the Ultramar star systems.
Their descendants used explosives, chainswords, the blood of the massacred, and the screams of the desecrated to spread the power of the Chaos Gods across hundreds of worlds in the infinite star fields.
Sathus is one of the many sacrificed planets.
After breaking through the planet's defense network and eliminating the defense forces…
the World Eaters and Word Bearers carried out inhumane bombardment and slaughter against the cities on the ground.
Trailing crimson contrails, shells rained down from the flanks of the traitor warships anchored in the Sathus Strait.
Each shell that struck the ground raised a mushroom cloud composed of flame, fragments, and evaporated pieces of flesh.
The shockwaves from the explosions surged along the city's straight blue streets.
They uprooted the green belts that Guilliman had carefully planned.
They destroyed the buildings decorated with the symbolic imagery of Ultramar and paralyzed the city's defensive capabilities.
The city burned; the outer walls of the towering buildings bubbled from the high temperatures.
The exposed steel reinforcement melted and flowed down, sizzling when it touched the air.
When it cooled, it became dark iron lumps.
On the wide, straight roads, vehicles overturned by the shockwaves were piled up.
This formed a series of barricades made of twisted metal that constantly produced creaking and rattling sounds.
Mixed with the sounds of explosions and gunfire, the despairing screams of numerous civilians echoed.
A rather well-built man, holding a child and gripping his wife's hand, staggered as he ran through the crowd.
While running, the man silently prayed in his heart.
Your Majesty the Emperor, bless us.
Please keep my loved ones and children alive.
I am prepared to offer my life and soul for you.
...
Guilliman possessed the finest administrative ability among all the Primarchs.
Under his rule, Ultramar harbored an unimaginable capacity for war.
Even after the Battle of Calth, he rapidly reorganized his armies and produced enough military force to oppose the Word Bearers and World Eaters.
A series of counterattacks was launched against them.
The devastated planet Sathus also received support from the Ultramarines.
A battleship flying the Ultramarines' emblem broke through the void battlefield and entered orbit around the planet Sathus.
The warship's airborne-drop decks were already in a frenzy of activity.
Tech-Priests, accompanied by their attendants, were inspecting the drop pods that were about to be used.
The goal was to land the aerial-drop capsules on the ground as quickly and safely as possible.
During this time, Company Captain Cyril delivered a pre-battle speech to the soldiers and raised their morale.
"The betrayal at Calth exacted a heavy price from us."
Cyril's voice was not loud, yet everyone in the cabin heard it and could feel his suppressed anger.
"But if those damned traitors think this means we have lost, they are truly possessed by delusion."
"We must make them understand what happens when they lay hands on Ultramar, what happens when they lay hands on the Ultramarines."
"We must kill every traitor in this war that they started."
"For Guilliman, for Ultramar."
"Kill for the living and for the dead, brothers — let us attack the enemy."
At the end of the speech, Cyril raised his hand and let out a victory roar.
The other Ultramarines joined the cry.
"For Guilliman! For Ultramar!"
The Astartes' roar echoed again and again.
The sound paralyzed the eardrums of the Tech-Sergeants and servants who were busy working outside the cabin.
"Let's go. The time has come to make those traitors taste bitter fruit."
Cyril issued the drop order. The Ultramarines formed ranks and headed for the drop pods that had been inspected by the technicians.
The aerial-drop capsules are extremely large; their outer shells are covered with intricate patterns burned into them by friction with the atmosphere during multiple aerial drops.
When Cyril and the others approached, the hatches opened soundlessly to both sides.
The anti-gravity devices arranged in a circle inside and illuminated by dim red light came into view.
Once the airborne troops entered the cabin and fastened the gravity harnesses, they were ready for departure.
The aerial-drop pods were dropped simultaneously along the aerial-drop tunnels on both sides of the warship.
The Astartes wrapped themselves in the zero-gravity harnesses inside the craft and fought against the weightlessness produced by the high-speed descent.
These anti-gravity devices were specially designed for Space Marines, whose physique and weight differ greatly from those of ordinary people.
The metal skeleton cast from high-density alloy can firmly fix the torso and limbs.
The joint portions of the skeleton are covered with extremely thin layers of cushion gel that have been compressed many times and can effectively absorb impact.
The aerial-drop pods drew bright trajectories through the void.
As they approached the atmosphere, the main thrusters ignited.
White-hot flames erupted from the nozzles and accelerated as they plunged into the planet's atmosphere.
The moment the parachutes contacted the outermost layer of the atmosphere,
the front end, composed of multiple layers of ablative material, is designed to withstand even the most intense aerodynamic heating.
It changes to red from the high-temperature friction, quickly turns a vivid yellow, and then becomes a dazzling, blinding white.
The light enveloped the entire drop pod, like a shooting star symbolizing divine punishment.
As the density of the atmosphere increased, the ring of small attitude-control thrusters mounted on the bottom of the drop capsule activated promptly.
They repeatedly fired extremely short explosive pulses and corrected the descent trajectory of the aerial-drop capsule.
The drop capsules were moving at extremely high speed; Cyril and the other Astartes had to endure the impact of the accelerated descent.
The two hearts inside their chests beat at twice the normal rate; blood flowed through the blood vessels at accelerated speed.
The temperature inside the drop capsule also rose within thirty seconds after atmospheric entry to a level at which ordinary people could not survive.
The cushion-material gel used in the anti-gravity devices emitted a very faint, slightly bitter chemical odor characteristic of heated substances.
The internal temperature-control system of the power armor operated at maximum output.
Coolant flowed violently through the pipes, continuously producing a gurgling sound like a stream.
This situation lasted less than a minute; a great "boom" was heard as they slammed violently into the ground.
The released shockwave spread in every direction from the central point of the aerial-drop pod.
The shockwave raced through the still-burning ruins of buildings that remained on the surface of Sathus.
In an instant they collapsed inward, shattered into pieces, and crumbled with a roar.
The tremendous impact caused many Astartes' heads to be violently thrown backward.
The anti-gravity devices performed their role the moment the aerial-drop capsules contacted the ground.
They absorbed the impact of contact to the maximum extent and minimized damage to the Astartes.
The explosive bolts that secured the hatches activated, and the heavy hatches tilted outward.
Heavy metal doors slammed onto the scorched and pulverized ground, raising scorching dust mixed with gravel and ash.
Air filled with the smell of blood and gunfire from the battlefield flowed into the drop pods.
Cyril unfastened himself from the anti-gravity harness and stood up to exit the drop pod.
The other Ultramarines followed immediately behind and stepped onto the battlefield together with their company captain.
The moment they went outside, they saw the World Eaters and traitors massacring innocent civilians.
Those damned traitors, like a pack of ferocious hyenas, relentlessly pursued and tore apart innocent people.
The man holding a child and leading his wife saw the airborne troops descending from the sky, and a thread of hope appeared in his eyes filled with despair.
Guilliman's angels had come to save them.
The Lord of Ultramar had not broken his promise.
The next moment, a bolt flew through the air and struck his wife's back.
His wife's weak, blood-soaked body was instantly shattered into fragments.
The man watched his loved one being torn apart — first with terror, then with despair.
It was a despair welling up from the bottom of his heart that emptied his mind.
When he regained his senses, suppressed his grief, and tried to flee with the child,
a World Eater covered in bone spikes and blasphemous runes descended from the sky while brandishing a roaring chainsword.
The World Eater glanced at the man before him and, without hesitation, brought the weapon down.
The chainsword blade cut into the man's left shoulder, pierced diagonally downward through the chest, passed through the right arm that was firmly holding the child, and thrust out from the right hip.
The man and the child he was holding were torn apart by the serrated blade of the chainsword.
"Traitors, your enemy is me — not innocent people."
Company Captain Cyril, clad in Terminator armor, roared in fury.
Terminator power armor is several times thicker and heavier than standard power armor, possesses superior defensive capability, and can be worn only by the most elite Space Marines.
The World Eaters fired at Cyril, but all of their bolt rounds were blocked by the Terminator armor's shields.
Cyril advanced without flinching through the rain of enemy bullets.
The servo system of the Terminator power armor integrates the power refined through countless battles with his own muscles and bones, providing the force for advance.
The World Eater warriors charged while roaring. Their screams of agony were further stirred by the Butcher's Nails and the thirst for slaughter.
Cyril swung the activated power sword in his hand. Its heavy blade was covered with electric arcs emitted from the disruptive force field and produced a low growl.
The first World Eater who charged was shot and killed by Cyril's bolt pistol.
The head was completely shattered into pieces. The headless corpse stood there, staggered a few times, then collapsed to the ground with a thud.
Another traitor charged, but was cut down by his power sword; the collar — the weakest point between the breastplate and the helmet — was severed and the head was cut off.
Bright red blood sprayed onto the ground and rained down on the debris overturned by the shockwave.
Company Captain Cyril mercilessly cut down every traitor he met along the way, using his outstanding combat skills to defeat enemies one after another.
However, the number of traitors far exceeded the number of Ultramarines.
When Cyril felled one enemy, two more leapt out from the smoke and dust and filled the gap.
As the number of comrades decreased, the markers indicating friendly forces disappeared one by one from the helmet display screen.
In the end, only Cyril remained. They were destined to lose this war and could only buy time until reinforcements arrived.
Cyril continuously killed people. Corpses were scattered at his feet.
When he was exhausted, an ear-splitting roar rang out.
A warrior of sturdy build, enchanted, appeared.
His physique was far larger than that of an ordinary Space Marine; his power armor was stretched outward and cracked by something growing from the inside.
Possesseds are Chaos Space Marines possessed by Chaos Daemons.
They are filled with chaotic power and have become one with the daemon.
It possesses terrifying supernatural power, a fearsome physique, and sharp claws.
The surface of the claws is not smooth; it is covered with fine spine-like projections resembling shark teeth.
Once torn, large pieces of flesh will without doubt be ripped away.
Cyril swallowed the blood rising in his throat, gripped the sword with both hands, glared at the opponent, and prepared for a fight to the death.
The Possessed roared again and then charged forward.
He held no weapon; he possessed only a pair of sharp claws covered in scales.
Blade and claws collided, generating sound waves visible to the naked eye.
However, Cyril was ultimately no match for him.
His Terminator power armor was no better than a sheet of paper before the claws of the magical warrior.
After another collision,
the Possessed knocked Cyril's weapon from his hand and, in the process, exposed his left arm.
At that moment, the Possessed's other claw pierced his left flank, tore through the terracotta armor, and ripped away flesh and bone.
When the opponent withdrew the claw, vivid red blood sprayed.
Indescribable intense pain assaulted Cyril; he dropped to one knee and could not stand.
The Possessed let out a terrifying roar and tried to tear Cyril to pieces.
At this moment the surrounding spatial structure distorted.
At first it was a tiny point invisible to the eye, then it spread outward, created visible ripples, and began to emit light.
Suddenly, a strange telephone box appeared. Its style was completely out of place amid the battlefield ruins woven from scorched black, ash-brown, and deep-red hues.
When the door of the telephone box opened, light overflowed.
A warrior clad in five-colored power armor and wearing a clown helmet hopped out from it.
The appearance of this mysterious warrior instantly drew everyone's attention.
The visitor was none other than Datch.
When he changed from detective attire into battlefield equipment, he put on the clown helmet he had used previously once more.
I think this side is more exciting and looks better.
Cyril stared intently at the suddenly appeared mysterious warrior with puzzled eyes.
Who is the other party?
Are they reinforcements?
However, no Legion with that paint scheme exists in Ultramar.
Not only in Ultramar — such a paint scheme has never once been adopted by any Legion of the Imperium of Man.
Could he be a traitor?
A puzzled expression floated on the ferocious face of the Possessed.
Space Marines who have allied with the gods don't seem to have such eccentric paint jobs, right?
No matter how much chaos erodes the brain, it should not produce something this strange and incomprehensible.
The Possessed let out an ear-splitting roar that drowned out the distant blazing flames and the continuous sounds of explosions.
Then he ran toward Datch.
That terrifying figure made the earth tremble.
"Oh my, traitor — prepare to die."
Datch raised the longsword in his hand and roared.
Ever since obtaining the Emperor's armor and the Tiga transformation device, he had almost never fought as an Astartes.
Yet his skills had not declined; rather, they had improved, because he frequently went online.
The Possessed receives the protection of Chaos, but Datch is a Primaris Space Marine.
Primaris Space Marines are larger in body and more suited to combat than standard Space Marines.
Furthermore, he is secretly receiving the benefits of the Infinity Gauntlet.
The moment the two sides began combat, the Dutch side gained the advantage.
After a fierce battle, the blade gripped in his hand sliced through the neck of the Possessed, and the opponent's head flew off.
After executing the Possessed, Datch stretched out his hand and helped the fallen Company Captain Cyril to stand.
Thank you.
"Cyril said while gasping for breath."
Datch ignored the NPC's question and looked in another direction with a sharp gaze.
At that time, numerous traitors clad in blood-stained armor and with eyes filled with madness surrounded them.
"There are only two of them. There's no way they can stand against all of us!" a Word Bearer chaplain shouted.
"Tear them apart and offer their souls and flesh to the gods."
"That's right — tear them apart."
"..."
Others joined the shouts, and an ear-splitting roar rang out.
"Trying to bully the few with the many!" Datch grinned and looked around.
"This tactic might work on others, but if you try it on me you've got the wrong opponent."
Datch opened the entrance to the Room of Requirement and summoned Mordachi and the other early Space Marines, as well as the undead army controlled by Orikan.
At first everything looked ordinary.
However, when the undead clad in silver garments appeared in ranks, the Undead King at the front shouted slogans such as… "For the Imperium of Man, for the nameless ones, for the Emperor…"
Cyril's mind went blank for a moment.
He was a little confused about what on earth this development was.
Has the charm of the Imperium of Man become so great that even aliens are willing to serve it?
At this moment Cyril's worldview was mercilessly destroyed and reconstructed.
The Horus Heresy was already a sufficiently terrible event by itself.
Now aliens must swear loyalty to the Imperium and fight alongside it.
I cannot understand it — I really cannot understand it.
Is it the world that is crazy, or is it him?
Not only was the loyalist Cyril puzzled; even the World Eaters and Word Bearers showed expressions of confusion.
They had once suspected that Chaos had driven his brain mad. Who on earth is this group of metallic aliens who swear loyalty to the Emperor?
…