Upper Hive, Aru City.
The top-floor conference hall of the Hysman Merchant Guild's Aru City Headquarters.
This was a world entirely distinct from the underhive.
The fifteen-meter-high domed ceiling was painted with a massive mural of the Emperor Unifying Terra. A pure gold-trimmed crystal chandelier illuminated the entire space as bright as day.
At this moment, seated on both sides of the twenty-meter-long obsidian conference table were the representatives of the true rulers of Aurelian IV.
"Fifteen days!"
Busir Hysman, wearing purple robes and sporting a bald head, slammed his palm onto the table, making the crystal glasses vibrate gently.
This Vice President of the Hysman Merchant Guild, concurrently acting as the Chairman of the Aru Pharmaceutical Group, had long lost his usual composure.
"In fifteen days! The one hundred and fifty thousand troops we brought from our respective headquarters have lost a staggering one hundred and three thousand men in the industrial zone! Tanks, artillery, Sentinel mechs... those all cost money!!"
"Chairman Busir, please calm yourself." Across the table, Kans Atens, clad in half-Power Armor, spoke coldly.
The representative of the Atens Knight House had his family crest etched onto the left pauldron of his armor.
His Power Sword leaned against his chair, the promethium crystal embedded in the hilt emitting a faint blue glow.
"In any war, losses are the norm. The Blaec House resisted the Iron Hands Legion for a full seven days back in their days, and didn't they still turn to ash in the end?"
"But we've only held out for fifteen days, and we've lost over two-thirds of our forces!" Busir was practically roaring. "Those blue and red monsters... we can't kill them all! Kill one, and two more pop up! The frontline report from yesterday said that blue, bird-headed daemon used a single mirror to make three companies of our soldiers slaughter each other!"
He took a breath, his voice lowering but carrying an even deeper chill. "Gentlemen, I am speaking as a businessman."
"Investment requires output. War requires victory."
"Right now, our situation in the industrial zone... people back at the family headquarters are already starting to question my competence."
His words plunged the conference room into a brief silence.
Busir had spoken bluntly, but everyone understood the implication.
The internal competition within the four major factions of Aurelian IV was no less fierce than their external wars.
Just securing the qualification to be stationed in Aru City and intervene in this war was a victory in the power struggle back at headquarters.
But if they screwed this up...
"My Psyker squad was completely wiped out on the seventh day."
To the left of the table, a veiled female Psyker, Riley Conmo, spoke softly.
Her voice passed through the veil, carrying an ethereal, echoing resonance—a hallmark of High Psykers, whose voices often created a dual resonance in both the material universe and the Warp.
"That blue daemon... that hound of heresy. It uses knowledge as a weapon." Riley's fingers lightly traced the tabletop, sparking with psychic energy. "Fifteen members of my squad had their brains overload and explode. The rest... all defected."
"Furthermore," she continued, "the Family Council of Elders has slashed my resource quota for the next quarter. The official reason given was 'ineffective response to Warp threats'."
The pressure shifted to the final representative.
Scoria Kane, the branch representative of the Order of the Omnissian Mind. He was a heavily modified cyborg.
His vocalizer emitted a modulated, mechanical voice:
"Data compiled: Within the fifteen-day operational cycle, our losses are as follows!"
The red light of his mechanical eye swept over everyone present:
"Personnel: One hundred and three thousand, seven hundred and twenty-one armed personnel, including one thousand three hundred technical specialists.
Heavy Equipment: Sixty-four Leman Russ battle tanks, twenty-two Hellhound flame tanks, sixty-seven Sentinel mechs.
Artillery Units: Fifteen heavy self-propelled artillery pieces, thirty Minotaur self-propelled artillery pieces, one hundred and thirty-four other towed artillery pieces.
Psionic Units: Forty-seven Official Psykers, one hundred and thirty-three Novice Psykers.
Addendum: The above losses only account for confirmed destroyed units. Missing, defected, or units turned coat after Chaos corruption are not included."
Scoria's mechanical hand projected a holographic battle report onto the table. The grisly red numbers flickered before everyone's eyes:
"And the casualty statistics for the enemy!
Confirmed kills of blue daemon-class entities: four thousand two hundred and thirty-seven.
Red daemon-class entities: one thousand six hundred and ninety-four.
Other lesser daemon entities: approximately five thousand.
Chaos-corrupted human rebels: approximately twenty thousand.
Core Targets: The blue bird-headed daemon and the red hound-headed daemon remain unconfirmed kills.
The two have appeared on the battlefield seventeen times. Each appearance resulted in the collapse of at least one battalion-level unit."
The holographic image switched, displaying a map of the industrial zone.
The green area, originally marked as Aru-controlled territory, had shrunk to less than a third of its original size.
Meanwhile, the dark purple area representing Chaos corruption was expanding outward at a visible rate.
"Calculated at current advancement speeds," Scoria's mechanical voice remained completely flat, "If no effective resistance is mounted, the vanguard of the daemonic heresy will reach the Aru Hive City defense perimeter in twelve days. If those two daemon personally lead the vanguard, this time will be shortened to... ten days."
"Ten days..." Busir muttered, cold sweat beading on his forehead.
Kans Atens tightened his grip on the hilt of his Power Sword.
Beneath her veil, Riley Conmo whispered softly, as if reciting an incantation.
Scoria's mechanical eye flashed red as he continued his report:
"Summary of responses from respective headquarters!
Hysman Merchant Guild: Two hundred and twenty thousand local PDF troops have been drawn from their major Hive Cities. Estimated arrival in seven days. Additionally, Chairman Busir, if Aru City falls, your position will be taken over by your cousin."
Busir's face instantly went deathly pale.
"Atens Knight House: Dispatching ninety thousand knight guards and three Knight Mech armored regiments. Estimated arrival in nine days. Lord Kans, the Patriarch of House Atens hopes to see you personally leading the counter-offensive."
Kans scoffed coldly, but a flash of gravity crossed his eyes.
"Conmo Psyker Dynasty: Dispatching one hundred additional Psykers and two hundred auxiliary Psykers. Estimated arrival in five days."
Riley remained silent, her veil swaying without any wind.
"Order of the Omnissian Mind: Dispatching eight hundred Skitarii, five thousand combat servitors, carrying ten lascannon turrets and three melta turrets. Estimated arrival in twelve days."
The conference room plunged into silence once more.
Reinforcements were coming. That was good.
But behind every reinforcement was a naked political threat.
"So..." Busir spoke slowly, his voice dry. "Headquarters hasn't abandoned us, but they've given us an ultimatum."
Kans corrected him coldly. "If we can't hold Aru City, they'll just send another batch of people to hold it. As for us... heh."
He didn't finish the sentence, but everyone understood.
The four major factions had stood tall on Aurelian IV for eighty years, and it wasn't because of their mercy.
Eighty years ago, when the Iron Hands Legion left, more than just four factions rose up.
The bones of those failures were still buried deep in some mines, used as filler material for support pillars.
"We need a plan," Riley said softly. "A perfect counter-attack plan. We need a victory with enough weight to prove our value to the families."
"Agreed." The red light of Scoria's mechanical eye swept across the map. "However, based on the current combat power ratio, the win rate of conventional tactics is below thirty-seven percent. Recommendation: Petition the Planetary Governor to intervene and mobilize the main force of the Planetary Defense Force."
This suggestion made the other three frown.
Planetary Governor Harrington—the Imperial bureaucrat who collected taxes from Aurelian IV every five years—had always been viewed as nothing more than a mascot by the four major factions.
His Planetary Defense Force? That was an even bigger joke.
The PDF's equipment level was at least two tiers lower than the local guard forces of the four factions, and their training was worlds apart.
Sending the PDF to fight daemons? What was the difference between that and sending them to die?
"The role of the PDF is not to win." Scoria seemed to see right through their thoughts. "It is to be consumed. Use the lives of the PDF to whittle down the numbers of the daemons and create tactical windows for us."
He pulled up another dataset:
"The standing PDF force in the northern hemisphere is approximately two hundred and fifty thousand. If emergency conscription is enacted, it can be expanded to four hundred thousand."
"Four hundred thousand..." A sharp glint flashed in Busir's eyes. "If we feed those four hundred thousand men into the industrial zone..."
"It could stall the daemons for at least a month." Kans finished the thought. "More than enough time for our reinforcements to arrive and complete deployment."
Riley's veil swayed slightly. "But will the Governor agree? Four hundred thousand PDF is practically the entire defensive force of this planet. If they are all consumed in the industrial zone, Aurelian IV will have a defensive vacuum for the next ten years."
"He will agree." Busir sneered. "Because if Aru City is lost, his days as Governor are over. The Imperium does not want a Governor who can't even hold his own planet."
He stood up and walked to the window, looking down at Aru City.
The upper Hive was a sea of brilliant lights. The factory zones of the middle Hive were shrouded in smoke. The underhive, the lower depths... were submerged in absolute darkness.
"Send a message to the Governor's Palace." Busir spoke with his back to the room, his voice freezing cold. "In the name of the Joint Command of the Four Factions, demand that the Planetary Defense Force immediately enter maximum combat readiness and concentrate all forces on Aru City. If the Governor refuses or delays, we will report directly to the Departmento Munitorum on Terra, accusing him of dereliction of duty, cowardice, and squandering tactical opportunities in the face of a heretical threat."
Scoria's mechanical arms began to type rapidly, sending an encrypted transmission to the Governor's Palace.
The meeting seemed to have reached its conclusion.
But just as the four were preparing to leave, Scoria's mechanical eye suddenly flickered.
"Supplemental Intelligence: Three hours ago, a patrol squad discovered traces of a massive population migration on the edge of the Redblaze Wasteland. Preliminary estimates suggest the migrating population is around twenty thousand, heading deep into the wasteland."
Busir frowned. "The Redblaze Wasteland? Can anyone even survive in that shithole?"
"Trace analysis indicates the migrating column was organized, possessed armed escorts, and..." Scoria paused. "...Traces of laser weapon usage were discovered along the migration path."
Kans narrowed his eyes. "Which blind bandit gang or rebel group dares to cause trouble at a time like this?"
"They are neither rebels nor bandits." Scoria pulled up several blurry images taken by the patrol squad using telephoto lenses. "The escort vehicles show obvious signs of modification, but the modification style… does not belong to any known technological school on Aurelian IV."
The images zoomed in.
They could clearly see that additional steel plates were welded at bizarre angles onto the outer armor of several transport trucks, and heavy machine guns were mounted on the roofs.
"Send someone to investigate." Busir ordered coldly. "Find out what organization dares to execute such a massive personnel movement during a time like this. If they are a rebel group, they must be marked and purged early. We cannot allow them to trigger another heretical invasion like this one."
"Agreed." Kans rested his hand on his Power Sword. "But lower the priority, wait until we deal with the daemons in the industrial zone, then we'll clean up these rats."
Neither Riley nor Scoria objected.
After all, compared to the advancing Warp corruption, a few rats in the wasteland were indeed not worth mentioning.
The four left the conference hall.
–
Meanwhile, in the middle Hive of Aru City.
Deep, having just "forced" a promotion to the Middle Hive Registry Office, was now operating under his new identity, looking at the freshly updated list of middle Hive residents in his hand.
In an inconspicuous corner of the list, a few names were noted:
Leon Camus. Male. Age 19. Formerly of Underhive Sector XXXX. Now assigned to a management position at Middle Hive Foundry #3.
Vanessa Liard. Female. Age 22. Formerly of Underhive Sector XXXX. Now assigned to a management position at Middle Hive Textile Mill #4.
Deep's finger lightly traced over the two names, the corners of his mouth curling up into a slight smirk.
"Phase One complete."
He closed the roster interface and accessed the middle Hive's internal communication network.
Next, he had to figure out how to tap into the higher-level information streams: the troop movements of the four factions, the Governor's reaction, and... exactly which Imperial reinforcements were coming.
–
At the same time, at the Crimson Dawn base.
Zeke stood atop the newly expanded wall, watching the Aurelian Youth League training on the wasteland in the distance.
Three thousand able-bodied young adults, under the guidance of the players, were practicing basic formations, weapon handling, and tactical coordination.
Although their movements were still clumsy, a specific kind of light burned in every single pair of eyes.
It was the expectation of the future.
Zeke looked up, gazing in the direction of Aru City.
"We don't have much time left..."
He muttered to himself, clenching his fists.
Below the wall, Helovia, having just woken up, was surrounded by a group of children, telling them the story of how she summoned the giant fireball in Merida Town.
The little girl's face was still pale from weakness, but her eyes were incredibly bright.
She looked up at Zeke and waved her hand vigorously.
Zeke smiled and waved back.
Then he turned and walked down from the wall.
The next half month would be the most critical development period for Crimson Dawn.
--
Next Goal = 500 Powerstones.
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