Airdropped Supplies

Rovi withdrew his gaze and looked ahead.

Sector E4.

It had once been a small open-air storage yard, roughly two kilometers from the Granary defensive line.

At that distance, the Heavy Logging Gun's firepower could not reach.

They had to leave the fortifications and enter that fog-shrouded no-man's-land.

"Alpha." Rovi pressed the communicator at his throat.

"Present. Praise the Omnissiah." The Tech-Priest's voice came through amid static.

"How is the Steel Beast?"

"Boiler pressure is stable, and the hydraulic systems are functioning normally. Its Machine Spirit is somewhat... restless. It seems eager to consume more biomass."

"Good." Rovi nodded. "Have it lead the way."

With a deep rumble, the Harvester—modified from a Chimera chassis and fitted with massive crushing rollers—drove out from the warehouse shadows.

It was like a mobile steel fortress. Dark red bloodstains from the previous battle still clung to the two enormous Serrated Rollers at its front.

Its Exhaust Pipe belched black smoke, making it look especially savage.

Rovi climbed onto the Steel Beast's Command Tower and stood behind its heavy armor plating.

He was not a Space Marine. He did not possess a body capable of stopping bullets.

In this brutal universe, mortal wisdom without the protection of steel was no different from a fragile wet tissue.

"Move out."

The march was quieter than expected.

Aside from the heavy footsteps and the engines' roar, the surroundings were terrifyingly silent.

The Walking Dead that had besieged the Granary before seemed to have vanished overnight.

There was neither the buzzing of flies nor the howls of monsters among the ruins.

There were only those strange fungi.

Rovi watched the roadside warily through the viewing slit.

Clusters of vividly colored fungi had sprouted from what had once been bare concrete and abandoned metal pipes.

Some resembled swollen fingers, while others looked like ulcerated eyeballs. They trembled faintly in the rain, releasing a pale yellow mist of spores.

Whenever the Harvester's tracks crushed the fungi, they burst like balloons filled with pus, splattering pools of corrosive slime.

"Don't touch those things," Rovi warned over the loudspeaker. "No matter how much they look like mushrooms, if anyone dares reach out and touch one, I'll chop off their hand and throw it into the Fermentation Tank."

The group advanced in silence.

Two kilometers.

For a mechanized force, it was only a few minutes' journey.

But for this reclamation group made up of refugees, every step felt like walking through a minefield.

The outline of Sector E4 emerged from the fog.

It was an open area, with numerous rusted cargo containers piled around its edges.

"Stop."

Rovi gave the order.

He did not immediately send the group inside.

Instead, he had the Harvester halt behind the wreckage of an abandoned crane, using the cover to conceal its towering frame.

He raised his binoculars.

The airdrop had not arrived yet.

But the area was not empty.

Within the shadows of the cargo containers, Rovi saw several shifting figures.

They were not the slow-moving Walking Dead that only knew how to charge mindlessly.

Those figures wore tattered Imperium Defense Force uniforms and carried lasguns and automatic rifles.

Their movements seemed somewhat stiff, but they maintained a certain tactical formation.

They were clearing firing lanes and setting up machine-gun positions.

Rebels.

More precisely, Traitor Guard corrupted by Nurgle.

Rovi's heart sank.

If the Walking Dead were beasts, then these Rebels who retained their combat instincts from life were organized hunters.

"Buck, two o'clock. On top of the tallest cargo container," Rovi said softly. "Do you see it?"

Buck raised his Boltgun, his bionic eye adjusting its focus. "I see it. A heavy machine gun, plus two lookouts. Damn it, these bastards even know how to set an ambush."

"They're waiting for the airdrop too," Rovi analyzed calmly.

Just as he could obtain intelligence through Kais's brain, the forces of Chaos might have informants in the upper levels of the Hive City as well.

Once the airdrop plan had been made, the flight path and coordinate data might have been intercepted during transmission.

That was also why Captain of the Guard Lilith had warned Rovi—"Everything around you will see it."

Not long afterward.

A deep rumble came from the sky.

It was the sound of a Valkyrie Transport's engines.

The clouds split apart.

A transport marked with the Imperium's Eagle Emblem swept through the low sky like a gray bird, howling through the air.

It was flying so low that Rovi could see the hatch beneath its belly open.

Metal crates painted a conspicuous orange descended from the sky, each suspended beneath three drag chutes.

"Pfft, pfft, pfft."

The drag chutes opened in midair.

The crates swayed as they descended toward the center of Sector E4.

Almost at the same time, the Rebels lurking in the shadows of the cargo containers began to move.

They did not rush toward the crates. Instead, they aimed their weapons at Rovi's side.

Or rather, at any direction from which someone might appear to snatch them.

"Advisor, should we charge?" Buck's finger rested on the trigger, and he was visibly impatient. "Those are our batteries!"

"Not yet."

Rovi pressed down on Buck's arm.

His gaze was like that of someone calculating a complicated mathematical problem.

"Each crate weighs at least two tons when it lands, and there aren't any handles on it."

Rovi pointed at the muddy ground, his voice as calm as if he were reciting a mathematical formula. "Given the state of those Rebels' bodies, they can't lift it at all."

He handed the binoculars to Buck beside him.

He gestured for him to watch the figures attempting to rush out from cover.

"Look carefully at their equipment. Their gun barrels are covered in green moss, and the joints of their armor show obvious rust and fungal growth."

"Their movements still retain the tactical discipline they had in life, but the angles at which their knees and elbows bend are extremely stiff."

"That means their joints have calcified, or rigor mortis has locked them in place."

Rovi paused, his gaze icy.

"A bunch of dead men with stiff joints want to carry a two-ton lump of metal through a swamp with their bare hands? Dream on."

"More importantly..." Rovi lowered his voice. "I don't believe the Governor's airdrop would be left there for anyone to take so easily."

The crate slammed heavily into the ground, splashing up a pool of black mud.

Several Rebel soldiers rushed out from behind their cover.

Dragging their heavy feet, they tried to approach the metal crate.

But the instant their hands touched it—

"Bzzzt."

Dazzling blue arcs suddenly erupted from the crate's surface.

High-Voltage Defense Field.

Before the Rebel soldiers could even scream, their bodies blackened instantly like blazing torches.

Then they burst into clouds of green smoke.

"An automated Defense System," Rovi said coldly. "Without an identification code, an airdrop crate is just an oversized landmine."

The remaining Rebels were clearly frightened by the sudden turn of events.

They retreated behind cover and began firing wildly at the crate, trying to destroy the defense field with bullets.

But it was meaningless.

The bullets could do no more than throw up sparks against the crates.

"Now it's our turn."

Rovi grabbed the communicator.

"Alpha, aim the Harvester's main cannon... I mean, that modified High-Pressure Water Cannon, at the Rebels' heavy machine-gun emplacement."

"Buck, take your men and don't go in a straight line. Circle around through the ruins on the right. Remember, don't expose yourselves just to kill the enemy. What I want is suppression."

"As for the reclamation crew..." Rovi glanced at the laborers behind him, their eyes burning with fervor because of the "Green Soup."

"Tell them those Rebels are carrying Marching Rations, with unopened Synth-Starch Blocks hanging from their belts."

He paused, his gaze turning dark as he added:

"If they can't find any of that... drag the Rebels back. The Fermentation Tank has never been picky about where its protein comes from."

"Whoever grabs one gets an extra meal tonight!"

That was an order requiring no explanation.

The enemy was not merely a threat, but a food resource.

"For the Emperor, for extra rations!"

No one knew who shouted it first.

The previously quiet ranks instantly boiled over.

The excitement built up within them by Warp energy had finally found an outlet.

"Attack!"

At Rovi's command, the Harvester let out an ear-splitting roar.

Instead of firing, it smashed straight through the wall before it.

Like a mad bull charging into the square.

The High-Pressure Water Cannon atop the vehicle blasted out a column of black liquid.

It was not water, but "fertilizer" pumped from the bottom of the Fermentation Tank, mixed with strong acid and highly concentrated waste fluid.

The foul-smelling liquid struck the heavy machine-gun position atop the cargo container with precision.

It lacked the penetrating power of bullets, but the impact and corrosiveness of the liquid were terrifying.

The Rebel machine gunner screamed and covered his face.

His skin rapidly began to rot away.

The machine gun in his hands also started smoking blue after being splashed with the acid.

"Rat-a-tat-tat!"

Buck's Defense Force squad opened fire at the same time.

The roar of Boltguns tore through the air, forcing the Rebels trying to retaliate back into cover.

But the most terrifying ones were the laborers wielding steel pipes and sheets of iron.

They had no tactics, no formation—only a fanaticism twisted by hunger and a sense of "happiness."

Like a tidal wave, they surged over the ruins, ignoring the scattered laser beams as they pounced on isolated Rebels.

It was a chaotic melee.

Rovi stood atop the command tower, calmly observing the battle.

He was not carried away by the victory before his eyes.

His gaze remained fixed on the Drop Pod.

"Alpha, prepare to interface."

Rovi pulled a black ring from his coat and connected it to the Dataslate at his side.

"Scanning... identification code confirmed. The defensive force field will deactivate in ten seconds."

The Harvester rumbled over to the Drop Pod.

Its towering body shielded the pod from gunfire coming from the flank.

Rovi jumped down from the vehicle and dashed nimbly toward the pod.

He pressed the Dataslate against the interface on the side of the container.

"Beep."

The blue arcs vanished. The pressure valve let out a hissing release, and the heavy metal lid slowly sprang open.

Inside, dozens of sealed cases were stacked neatly.

They bore the Caduceus Symbol of the Departmento Medicae, along with the Cog Mechanicum of the Adeptus Mechanicus.

Medicine. High-Energy Batteries.

And in the corner, a small Silver Suitcase that wasn't on the list.

He quickly picked up the suitcase. It felt heavy.

"Load it up, now!"

Rovi roared.

"Forget the junk on those dead bodies! Get these boxes onto the Harvester. Even if you have to drag them back with your teeth, bring them home!"