The Invincible Titan Fell

Recently, the crew of the Abomination had discovered that a beautiful woman had somehow appeared at the side of their glorious Primarch. Everyone was discussing her, speculating about who she really was.

Some said she was a Rogue Trader matriarch, others said she was an Adeptus Custodes, and some even claimed she was an extremely rare Grey Ogryn. Otherwise, there was no way to explain why she was so tall. In short, opinions varied wildly.

In response, the 9th Company Captain of Atlas, who refused to reveal his name, stated that the beauty was actually a Primarch—the esteemed Princess Alpharius.

However, this claim was unanimously denied by the entire crew. They weren't blind. They had seen Princess Alpharius before. She had silver hair. This one had black hair.

Even if one took a step back and said that hair color could be dyed, everyone knew that Princess Alpharius was flat-chested. It was somewhat sacrilegious to say so, but it was simply a fact. Her frame couldn't possibly support this sexy leather outfit.

Atlas merely had a relaxed atmosphere. If another legion dared to discuss their Primarch like this, they would have been subjected to the Eleven-to-one long ago. But only Alpharius knew how much humiliation he had suffered over the past few days.

*[Damn Mordred. He actually threatened me with those photos and stole my name. What do you mean this appearance has already been recorded in the Machine Spirit's database? It's obviously just your twisted hobby.*

*Just you wait. Thirty years west of the Galaxy, thirty years east of the Galaxy. I will get revenge for this humiliation sooner or later.]*

Smack!

A crisp sound shattered Alpharius's fantasies and dragged him back to reality. Seeing Mordred appear behind him like a ghost, Alpharius—who had already developed a psychological shadow—shuddered violently.

"W-what are you doing?"

"What do you mean, what am I doing? We're almost at Inkarati. Get your ass to work. Have you forgotten that you're a Primarch?"

With that, violent tremors swept through the hull. It was the sign that the ship had exited the Warp through the Mandeville Point and was once again being disturbed by the planet's gravity. It also meant that their nearly month-long deep voyage had finally ended.

Mentioning this made Alpharius furious. If he had simply been inferior in skill, that would have been one thing. But after observing things for a month, he had gradually discovered the real problem.

That excellent son wasn't his child at all. Even all those Alphariuses who had been frantically requesting resources from Hydra were fake. They were all from Atlas, and they had been drawing pay and provisions under false pretenses this entire time.

Even worse, that seemingly dim-witted Dog-man was not innocent at all. She was a thoroughly devious mutt. That bastard had actually been selling her humiliating photos for money, leaving her afraid to return to her true form.

And that wasn't all. During this month, Alpharius had discovered that the entire Second Legion was full of secrets. Genetic Modification organisms, Spartan enhanced soldiers, Chaos Energy Corruption, and the like were all child's play.

They could actually devour Warp Creatures. Even the entire ship was alive. No wonder Atlas could remain submerged in the Warp for so long. Rather than humans, the entire legion seemed more like freaks wearing human skin.

No wonder that lunatic Mordred had coerced him so fiercely. If this secret were exposed, all of Atlas would become the Empire's target, and Mordred himself would be personally dealt with by the Emperor who had authored the Imperial Truth.

[He must have been hiding this from Father all along, too. I know all about your little secret, Kiya!]

As the saying went, contemplation bred heresy. Alpharius, who had imagined more than eighty episodes of a continuing drama in his head, would never have guessed that the Good Father he believed to follow the Imperial Truth not only knew everything, but was also a participant.

But Alpharius soon had no need to speculate blindly. Mordred, wearing Hunter Heavy Armor and wielding the fallen Ashen Herald, came before her, grabbed her, and teleported into the bridge.

Seeing Father appear, Goff—the true commander of Atlas—didn't even turn his head. He was already so busy he was nearly dying. Pointing at the Holographic Projection, he began issuing orders:

"Our intelligence was wrong. This sub-sector is called Inkaration. It has three Forge Worlds, and the storm that tore humanity apart did not damage this place.

"To make matters worse, the entire sub-sector has used those three Forge Worlds as the foundation for a Pocket Imperium. They call themselves the Federal Orthodoxy and have no interest in negotiating with the Empire.

"The moment we sent out a communication, it was invaded by Electronic Scrap Code. That means the other side possesses technological capabilities at least comparable to the Empire's.

"Furthermore, because their administrative structure is so complete, every Forge World is protected by a Planetary Void Shield. Combined with their ground-based anti-aircraft firepower, our air superiority is useless. We can only conduct mobile fire suppression.

"Father, prepare for the worst. We can only retake this place by force—and it will be the bloodiest kind of ground War of Attrition."

The strange sight of a son commanding his father was difficult for Alpharius to understand. Mordred, however, knew perfectly well that he was inferior to Goff in large-scale legion warfare. He was only good at tactical breakthroughs. It was enough for him to properly serve as a Legion Commander; there was no need for an amateur to command an expert.

"Good. In that case, begin the operation. I don't care who is on the other side. This is our first battle as Atlas, so we must win! Show me what you're capable of. Don't disappoint me."

"Hey-ha! Atlas will be victorious!"

Everyone turned around and stared at the oddity who had been mixing among them and pretending to belong. Alpharius, suddenly the center of attention, hunched his neck and failed to understand why everyone was looking at her.

But she quickly realized what the problem was and hurriedly raised her right hand, shouting:

"Hey-ha! Atlas will be victorious!"

Everyone was satisfied this time and began rushing toward the hangars to prepare for Orbital Boarding.

Unlike the impoverished 40K era, in which everyone relied on Thunderhawks and drop pods, most legion boarding craft during the 30K era were Stormbirds. They had thicker armor, more space, and even Void Shields. They were true aerospace fighters capable of operating in both air and space.

As the indicator lights changed from red to green, countless steel birds streaked across the stars and plunged toward the deadly battlefield below.

At the same time, the Atlas fleet closed the distance and unleashed a fierce barrage against the surface in an Orbital Bombardment, providing fire support for the boarding forces.

Every second, tens of thousands of tons of solid ammunition exploded before the Void Shield. Under the terrifying High Temperature scattered by the Lances, the shells turned into boiling vapor, tearing open a gap for the Stormbirds.

Through the porthole, Mordred could see the splendid violet radiance produced by the Void Shield. It filled him with an indescribable, ultimate excitement.

Thirty seconds later, Mordred could see the ground battlefield with the naked eye. He stopped waiting. The instant he broke through the Void Shield, he leaped out of the hatch and grabbed the missile rack. Fierce arcs of Chaos Energy Corruption spread from his body, encompassing all the boarding forces in one sweep.

As the emerald storm suddenly formed in the sky, the battlefield—where both sides had been bombarding each other with heavy artillery—fell silent. Even the Titan swung its arms and pointed its guns toward the heavens.

Whether they were Space Marines of the Fourth Legion or remnants of the Federation resisting the Empire, everyone looked skyward, watching the emerald grassland that should never have appeared in the sky but was now gradually covering the entire earth.

Both sides assumed that the other had caused it. Neither made the first move. They simply waited in silence for the phenomenon to disappear.

But soon, a transmission sent the battered Fourth Legion into a frenzy:

"This is Atlas. The Primarch has been deployed. Your reinforcements have arrived."

In an instant, 678 sorties—nine Stormbird formations in total—appeared, accompanied by 2,712 Death Strike Missiles streaking across the sky. Mordred stood atop the missiles, facing the wind, and drew his sword toward the conspicuous Titan.

A towering Titan. A tiny human. A bizarre weapon that looked more like a Watermelon Knife than a sword.

"Is this person an idiot? Don't insult my unparalleled intellect with your pointless nonsense!"

The Titan pilot, already wildly exhilarated, swung the gun barrels around. Blazing plasma began charging, and he could already imagine the wonderful scene of this bizarre human being vaporized on the spot.

But before the charging was complete, the unknown Titan pilot heard a frenzied roar laced with shame and abandon:

"EX, Curry Blade!!!"

A beam of emerald light suddenly appeared and grew ever brighter, until it filled his entire field of vision.

Then the Space Marines of the Fourth Legion witnessed a horrifying scene.

The beam pierced straight through the Titan's chest. The enemies who had clustered together while evading the missiles did not even have time to react before they were devoured by the light.

Burning, corroding, melting—the sword-light swept across the battlefield with unstoppable momentum, directly destroying every living thing within several thousand meters.

The invincible Titan—fell.