When Commorragh's two stars entered a prolonged period of weakened energy, theoretical night descended.
And night made the perfect cover.
During the day, under Amalfi's seemingly insane demands, the troops of two Marauder Groups and a barrage of relentless artillery fire had only managed, with great difficulty, to push the front line forward three kilometers.
Now, after a full day of several hours of high-intensity, fierce tug-of-war, the True Born Sons were exhausted. Their minds and bodies had reached their limits, and their ranks had inevitably grown weak.
Then, just as the utterly spent True Born Sons rested in the positions they had seized, their vigilance at its lowest—
Woo—woo—woo!
Suddenly, from the rebel positions in the darkness all around them, a shrill, resounding battle cry rang out!
The calls were passionate, piercing, and loud!
In an instant, they shattered the silence of the night.
The True Born Sons, who had been resting only moments before, instinctively looked toward the sound. There, a vast sea of rebels surged toward them, shouting their slogans and charging like madmen, as if they could sweep away everything in their path!
Th-this wasn't a signal to retreat. It was—a charge!
"Enemy attack! Enemy attack!"
The True Born Sons quickly realized that the rebels were taking advantage of the night to reclaim the positions they had lost during the day!
"Damn it, they're crazy! Every last one of them!"
"Don't they ever get tired?!"
"They're coming—!"
Compared to the confused, unprepared True Born Sons, the rebels they had seemingly battered into submission during the day now moved beneath the cover of night like true Dark Eldar—blades in the darkness!
"Kill!"
"For a new world of equality and freedom!"
The rebels' battle cries crashed down like a sledgehammer, smashing the True Born Sons' false dignity and