The depths of space were like the shadowed lower levels of a hive city.
Darkness and deadly danger erupted at every moment.
In the universe, the best choice was to cloak oneself in darkness, lower one's voice, and hide away in some shadowy corner beyond prying eyes.
Because even the faintest glimmer could draw the bloodthirstiest flies in this universe.
Along the shipping lane, several shattered Navy warships drifted through deep space. The ancient machine spirits within their wreckage had long since gone dark, while the corpses floating through space had decayed into stone-like remains, bearing the epic history of the universe upon them.
The remnants of history clinging to them might have been more than ten thousand years old.
Just as in the era of the Horus Heresy, this had been a battlefield of loyalty and rebellion, one the Imperium had never recorded. Their sacrifices were as worthless as grass; their efforts might as well never have existed.
And here, just as it had been ten thousand years ago—
A new war was unfolding.
The wreckage of new warships mingled with debris from ten thousand years ago, drifting silently through the void. Fresh corpses bled out, their frozen remains forming streaks through space. Their enraged faces still bore roars, unwillingness, and fury.
The closer one came to the battlefield, the more ruins there were.
From sparse debris to wreckage everywhere.
Fresh blood even began drifting through space, along with corpses that were still roaring.
On the exposed decks of shattered starships, warriors were still fighting. They could not raise their voices to intimidate their enemies, but the Chainswords and Melta Guns in their hands flashed with the light of loyalty in space.
Boom!
A lance strike.
In an instant, every warrior still fighting was vaporized within the scorching beam.