Balk could have sworn to The Emperor, or to anyone he knew, that when that wind came roaring in from the far side of the wasteland, he began to tremble, inevitably.
He did not want to hide it. He did not want to hide it from anyone. His upbringing had not included lying to himself. It was sad enough for a man to become a habitual liar; to lie to himself was—
In any case, he believed honesty was not something that deserved blame.
The company commander closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and drew back into the trench. Endless panting sounded beside him. He opened his eyes and saw a soldier repeatedly stroking the U-shaped stamp on his helmet while murmuring the name of Ultramar over and over.
Balk patted his shoulder, signaling for him to calm down.
The vox operator's voice came through the communication channel. He could not see the situation on the battlefield, so his voice was still fairly steady. "Orbital bombardment will commence immediately."
Hearing those words, his mood finally settled a little.
At the same time, an order from his direct superior followed close behind over the channel. "Withdraw into the city and prepare defenses along the line established on the Avenue of Valor! The Astartes are about to take over the battlefield outside the city!"
"That thing really isn't something we can handle either."
Balk muttered under his breath. It was hard for his pride to admit it, but he had to—a hundred-meter-tall rotting monster. How were they supposed to deal with it? The Lasguns in their hands would probably do no more than scratch its itch.
The order was given, and they began withdrawing into the city quickly and in good order. Through the transport's window, he saw dozens of Land