Decisive Battle, Istvaan (Part Two)

Who exactly are you?

Abaddon's roar shook the heavens and the earth; the entire Vengeful Spirit seemed to tremble involuntarily at his furious roar.

"Izekiel, don't you even recognize me?"

The humanoid phantom did indeed resemble Horus, the Primarch of the Sixteenth Legion, just as he had said.

"Don't try to fool me with your tricks!"

Abaddon, frustrated, wanted to punch the pathetic phantom until his powerful blow passed right through it, creating a sonic boom.

What kind of trick is this?

"No, Izekiel," the phantom of Horus continued, "You are refusing to accept the truth, refusing the future you have already seen."

"If I continue to let Kasgar and his men carry out their plans, I will only face inevitable death."

Abaddon slowly lowered his fist, staring at the "Horus" that had appeared in front of him with suspicion and uncertainty, without saying a word.

"The Warp Storm will not stop, and Philus's fleet is already approaching this star system."

"Philus has abandoned her mercy. The fully unleashed, mechanized Iron Hands fleet will destroy anything that stands in their way."

As the phantom of Horus slowly raised its hand, the scenery surrounding Abaddon rapidly distorted.

"This is."

He witnessed endless orbital bombardments and artillery fire erupting on this already crumbling planet.

No living being can survive for even a second on this battlefield, as the unheard-of secret weapon of the Iron Hands pours down from the sky.

As the Virus Bomb corroded almost all life on the ground, the residue in the atmosphere was instantly ignited by the Lance, causing an explosion that shook the heavens.

Right there in the Choral City beneath their feet, Abaddon saw the adversary the survivors would face as they crawled out from the corroded battlements after all was annihilated—

In order to clear away the remaining debris on the surface, Philus led her fully mechanized army to continue the carpet bombing.

An irresistible, even more powerful and terrifying force than Horus shattered everything that dared to stand in her way.

Cold, rational, and powerful.

"You know the price of resisting Philus's army," Horus said sadly. "Even if your choice puts me in the slightest danger, you wouldn't agree, would you?"

"Enough!"

Abaddon once again brushed aside the illusionary mist before him. "Is this your plan? To make our two legions fight each other, while your Iron Hands takes the opportunity to reap the benefits?"

To make a deal with Philus now, with the enemy army pressing in, is tantamount to asking a tiger for its skin.

Abaddon wasn't that stupid.

Their only chance of survival now lies in relying on the combined forces of Lunar Wolves and the Sons of the Emperor to fight against the overwhelming Philus.

"But there is no irreconcilable conflict between Izekiel, Philus, and me."

"Now, let me reveal the truth that I have witnessed in the Ocean of Souls."

"Damn Wizard! Don't even think about trying to fool me with those despicable tricks again!"

Abaddon continues to deny it.

He saw everything the other party displayed—

If they can truly complete this glorious Great Crusade and defeat the rebellious Philus before the Warp Storm dissipates...

The future envisioned by the Emperor has no place for Space Marine or Horus.

"Even if you manage to defeat Philus and return alive, do you really think I can escape the fate of the Thunder Warrior?"

Even if they win, even if the Warp Storm subsides as expected, what will be the outcome if they return to Terra?

The Emperor is using the resources obtained through your deaths and sacrifices to complete his Psychic Power ascension to godhood—even if it means silencing all Psychic Power use under the Nikaea Prohibition, and even if it means turning against Magnus to protect his secrets.

The ruthless False Emperor will destroy any obstacle that dares to resist and prevent him from ascending to godhood.

"You shouldn't trust what Kasgar says."

The only way to stop the Emperor's madness is for them, Lunar Wolves and Iron Hands, to join forces.

Together with other like-minded Legiones Astartes, overthrow the False Emperor and save the Imperium!

Gabriel Santo stared at the "mechanical creation" before him without uttering a word.

[Hello, Company Commander Santo, please give your instructions]

Not long ago, when the machine in front of him was still a Battle Brother named Moen, he had witnessed how the other party smiled and promised him that he would never be transformed into a mechanical monster.

That's how it should be.

The Space Marine of the Iron Hands Legion are the product of the Emperor's great genetic engineering project. Every Astartes is a super soldier far beyond ordinary people, and they should not be like those weak Adeptus Mechanicus sages who have transformed every part of their bodies into machines.

But the Primarch's orders are not to be questioned.

Since her last defeat against Fulgrim, she believed that the main reason for this defeat was that her personal emotions were still preventing her from taking the most direct and rational course of action.

It would be far better to bombard Fulgrim's fleet directly and seize talented individuals like Kasgar and Aqua than to try to persuade and win them over out of consideration for past relationships.

Philus recognized her mistake and resolved to correct it.

And as if to verify the correctness of her idea, after she officially decided to eliminate all emotional defects, countless plans and inspirations instantly exploded in her mind.

The puzzle that had once troubled her was instantly resolved at this moment, and the plan for mechanization came to her mind incessantly.

—The Iron Hands will become a legion that has truly entered a new era of evolution.

Most of the Legion warriors chose to comply with Philus's request.

Out of reverence for the Primarch's wisdom, and also out of disgust for his own flesh and blood.

Countless people, from Space Marine commanders to Auxilia, have chosen to walk into the Apothecary's modification operating table for mechanization.

It's not just a simple surgical procedure like replacing a mechanical prosthesis.

Instead, it replaces every part of its body, including its brain, with mechanical components called "Iron Hands Dreadnought," thereby erasing its own weak flesh and blood to ascend to a higher, stronger, and more perfect human form.

This has always been the pursuit of the Iron Hands.

Members of the Adeptus Mechanicus seemed to particularly appreciate Primarch Philus's transformation—this near-total mechanization meant that the Emperor's Space Marine also endorsed the Cult of Adeptus Mechanicus' theories, and the great faith in the Machine God had taken another giant step toward a more magnificent spread.

But their joy quickly faded.

Philus's transformation was too fast, too thorough, and too radical. In her mind, even a part of human tissue was proof of weakness.

Only by completely transforming themselves, including their brains and minds, into steel can the true value of an Iron Hands Space Marine be revealed.

In other words, this is already Abominable Intelligence!

Even the most radical Adeptus Mechanicus monks found this hard to accept.

However, the immense destructive power that Philus displayed in transforming individual Space Marine into complete War Machines still suppressed all dissenting voices within the Legion.

In the face of absolute power, all reason and rules become weak.

Including his Company Commander, Gabriel Santo.

"Brother, I warned you, and you promised me."

"I won't let myself become a mechanical monster."

Santo said, but what he received in return was the eerie red light flashing from the other party's machinery.

[Warning! Company Commander Gabriel Santo, you are using insulting language to denigrate Philus's design.]

[Checking the permissions of both parties. Issuing a formal warning.]

The cold, lifeless words made it impossible for him to imagine that this machine had once been his Battle Brother.

Although some "Iron Hands Dreadnought" within the legion can retain some of their original personality while also mechanizing their brains, the number of such advanced modifications is limited.

Most of the Iron Hands warriors completely abandoned their own personalities in order to transform themselves.

For the great cause of the Primarch and the Emperor, choose to become War Machines that abandons all emotions and obeys the Primarch's commands with absolute obedience.

After the upgrade, weapon and ammunition loading efficiency is greatly increased, and combat morale is always at its highest level.

The Primarch's command reception process will be compressed to within nanoseconds. The probability of tactical execution being disrupted by emotions such as fear, anger, and hatred is reduced to zero.

[It is recommended that you undergo a modification surgery, join the mechanical army, abandon your weak flesh and blood, and discard your base emotions.]

The machine was still repeating that persuasive phrase.

Most of the Iron Hands underwent modification surgery.

Even within the various clans of the Iron Hands, an additional "arms race" has formed in order to compete for the Primarch's favor.

The only exception is their Avini Clan.

Even as the Primarch's personal guard, at Gabriel Santo's request, they underwent the least amount of mechanization within the entire clan.

But he still couldn't stop more and more of his Battle Brother from becoming a War Machines.

Gabriel Santo remained silent.

He had no idea how the Primarch managed to walk on flat ground even amidst the Warp Storm.

This was also beyond his consideration.

Since he insisted on refusing to be modified, the Primarch's meeting seemed to have completely abandoned him.

[As requested by Primarch Philus Manus, the Iron Hands Legion is about to dispatch an advance legion to the surface of Istvaan III.]

The Sound Array was still broadcasting the list of those to be dropped in the first wave, arranged by the Primarch.

Without exception, the first wave of landings consisted entirely of Space Marine who had not undergone sufficient mechanization modifications as the Primarch had wished.

Its purpose is self-evident.

Even though the planets they were to land on were inhabited by Lunar Wolves and the Sons of the Emperor, with whom they had fought side by side.

Santo closed his eyes helplessly and slowly walked into the Iron Hands Drop pod, which was almost never used and symbolized a one-way trip.

Just as the Iron Fist fleet launched its Drop pod toward the ground, in near-Earth orbit, the Lunar Wolves flagship unleashed its first salvo at its comrades-in-arms.

The Lance bombarded the Void Shield on the planet's surface, splashing up pale blue ripples.

"Abaddon!"

"What the hell are you doing?!"

Seeing the sudden, full-force bombardment from the sky, Torgaddon, one of the members of the Lunar Wolves Council of Four Kings, cursed into his earpiece.

The defection from the Vengeful Spirit was beyond everyone's expectations.

Even some members of the Lunar Wolves couldn't believe that their Company Commander, who had once led them to victory against countless hideous Xenos, would turn his cannons against them.

[.]

Abaddon did not respond to Torgaddon's roar—not even a word. Only the fighter squadrons bombing the Pride of the Emperor flagship on the ground and in the sky spoke volumes about his treason.

The facts speak for themselves.

"Damn it!"

Torgaddon flipped over and charged onto the ground-to-air fortress turret, firing wildly at the densely packed fleet in the sky.

However, the results were mediocre.

Just as the Vengeful Spirit began bombing the surface, countless fighter jets swarmed out from the Lunar Wolves and the Iron Hands fleet.

The air forces of both sides also clashed—a massive number of fighter jets, like a dark cloud, were rushing toward the Sons of the Emperor's fleet.

The Combined Fleet of Lunar Wolves and Iron Hands not only never weakened its surface firepower, but also launched a fierce offensive to encircle and annihilate the Pride of the Emperor in the void—although Iron Hands' individual combat strength was weak and not suitable for boarding, especially with Fulgrim himself in command of the fleet.

However, their terrifying firepower, capable of rapidly overloading the Void Shield, made them completely disregard any other options.

"The Void Shield of the Fulgrim Fleet is under fire from the Iron Hands."

"She probably won't be able to hold on for much longer."

On the surface of Istvan III, Kasgar, piloting a surface-to-air weapon, watched with a grave expression as the Sons of the Emperor's fleet was besieged in the sky.

When Abaddon chose to betray them and turn his spear against them, the chances of the Sons of the Emperor winning this battle were already slim.

There is no chance of winning.

With the next salvo from the Iron Hands fleet, the Void Shield, which was barely holding on in the sky, was on the verge of breaking.

Moreover, even more surface troops are heading straight for the heavily guarded Void Shield Generator location after the Stormbird fighter formation completes its ground landing.

Under the firepower of the Loyalist Lunar Wolves and the Emperor's Children, the mechanical bodies from the Iron Hands showed no fear whatsoever—even though their sheer numbers would inevitably be overwhelmed by the Loyalist's firepower in an instant, they did not hesitate in the slightest.

It's like a chess piece deliberately placed to draw their firepower.

The area where more fighter groups were forced to land and surrounded was the landing site where the first Iron Hands Space Marine' Drop pod crashed!

—Philus wants to purge all the Loyalist within the legion here!

"Send a communication request to the first group of Iron Hands to land!"

Kasgar called out into the communication device, "Hey, Gabriel Santo! Get back to me as soon as you get this!"

"What is it, Kasgar?"

Amidst the deafening explosions, the faint, flickering reply in Kasgar's ear was unusually quiet.

"Mobilize your troops to prepare for a breakout. I'm sending another batch of troops to rescue you. Hold on."

"We will win."

Although the words of comfort sounded so weak, Kasgar still put them at the end.

"I'm sorry, brother, I might have to disappoint you."

Santo's reply before hanging up was filled with heavy sorrow.

He's had enough.

Let's just end it all here.

He looked around and saw that the mechanical warriors surrounding him no longer resisted.

Or rather, resistance has lost its meaning.

They were abandoned like trash by the Primarch and surrounded by countless former Battle Brother, now a force of mechanical Iron Men.

Under the Combined Fleet bombardment of the Lunar Wolves and the Iron Hands fleet, he had no choice but to die a swift death.

"Since this is Lady Philus's pronouncement of my fate, then so be it."

[Hospital target detected, elimination operation underway]

Watching the remaining Loyalist of the Iron Hands descend from all directions, aiming at the center, as they raised their Plasma Cannon.

Santo closed his eyes resignedly.

Boom!

A barrage of artillery fire rained down on them, unleashing the first volley.

Is this the feeling of death?

But it doesn't quite look like it.

He felt a force lifting him up. He was running, he was moving.

Santo felt the wind on his cheeks.

It was a long-lost sense of freshness, even right in the middle of a battlefield filled with the smoke of gunpowder.

Gabriel

He heard a deep, electronic voice, seemingly calling his name.

Santo opened his eyes again.

He witnessed something unimaginable.

It was a War Machines that had been completely modified, but before the modification, its name was Moen.

He was Gabriel Santo's Battle Brother.

"Moen!!!"

But how is that possible?

His brain is now completely dominated by commands; in other words, he is no different from a large-sized Servitor —or even less human!

How did he defy the Primarch's annihilation orders and rescue him from the battlefield?

Santo stared in disbelief at the broken steel structure and cables on the mechanical body—his back had been hit by several Plasma Cannons in order to rescue Santo —if it weren't for the modified steel body, he would never have been able to withstand the firepower and rescue Santo from the battlefield.

"Moen, how are you? Can you hear me?"

"Moen!"

As if it had exhausted its last bit of strength, the steel machine fell straight forward.

Santo struggled a few times to get off his back, looked around to make sure no other mechanical troops were targeting him, and then struggled to lift the other's body up.

"Moen."

[Battle]

The Sound Array was noisy and distorted, as if it were speaking to him like a dying person.

He seemed to see the souls of his former comrades-in-arms within this steel body.

Gabriel is alive and fighting.

The cold, mechanical hand slowly rose towards Santo's eyes, but just a few centimeters off the ground, it came to a complete stop, like his broken body.

What's this?

Santo could hardly believe what was happening before his eyes.

[The fugitive has been located and a cleanup process is underway.]

But Santo didn't have much time left for him to continue feeling sentimental.

The moment he paused, even more mechanical troops caught up with him from behind.

"Lie down!"

It was another familiar sound, and the instant the Plasma Cannon fired, a pale blue protective shield opened up in front of him.

He recognized the man who had protected him.

"Amar!"

"Go! Our mission shouldn't end here! We must continue fighting, Gabriel!!!"

Continue the fight

That's right, keep fighting!

Santo quietly laid down the motionless steel body, the confusion in his eyes vanishing completely at that moment.

"That's right, brother."

"I promise you, I will fight to the very last moment."

Perhaps everyone would assume that the guy who had his brain replaced after being mechanically modified died at that moment.

Only Gabriel Santo himself knew that his brother, Moen, had died today.

"Head towards Choral City! That's where our remaining Loyalist surface forces are!"

Amar gathered his Psychic Power, turned around and struck with lightning, paralyzing the nearest pursuer, before running wildly with Santo once again.

The mechanical legion behind them continued to press forward relentlessly.

Even before the main force of the Iron Hands had landed on the ground, these fully mechanized Space Marine alone were enough to scatter and flee their remaining Loyalist Iron Hands troops.

Every step they took forward, every volley they fired, seemed to be echoing the words that Philus insisted on.

[Frail and weak]

Yes, flesh and blood are fragile.

But now, that's not necessarily true!

Santo turned around and saw the mechanical army charging blindly forward.

They were stepping into a trench subtly marked as the Sons of the Emperor, completely unaware of it.

It seemed that even Philus didn't spend much effort directing them in battle.

Cannon fodder.

Santo couldn't help but think.

But even cannon fodder are not enemies they can easily defeat.

"Cover our troops' withdrawal!!"

"Sons of the Emperor, First Company, fire!"

At that very moment, Santo saw his Battle Brother had come to greet him.

Julius Kaisolong.

The Sons of the Emperor's Company Commander, a Battle Brother he knew well.

"Come quickly," his smile remained firm, "We don't have much time left."

Kaisolong gestured for his opponent to look at the Void Shield in the sky, which was about to overload.

"Quickly, after the Void Shield overloads, quickly hide in the nearby trench!"

"The enemy's Virus Bomb is about to strike!"

Just as the Void Shield was on the verge of overload, Kasgar's voice reached the ears of every Loyalist fighter who was fighting on the surface.

Under Kasgar's command, most of the surface warriors abandoned the ongoing surface-to-air counterattack and took refuge in the pre-laid trenches, bunkers, and underground defenses west of Choral City, awaiting the first round of bombing.

With a muffled hum in the sky, the void shield that had been covering everyone's heads completely overloaded in the next moment.

Immediately afterwards, the formal orbital bombardment began.

The Life Eater, a deadly Virus Bomb, exploded on the surface of the Istvan III.