One Short of Six

"Grandfather above..." Gegula wiped the sweat from his face, then pulled a lotus-pod-shaped object from his sour-smelling armpit.

With anguish and fury in his heart, Gegula smashed the lotus pod against a plague zombie. The shattered pod sprayed countless tiny black eggs, which rooted themselves in the plague zombie's body. Clusters of venomous flies soon swarmed out.

Rather than rushing at the Space Wolves and Battle Sisters, the venomous flies wound tightly around the seven pillars of the brewing pool. Their rhythmic flight, combined with the seven distinct beats of their wings, stirred ripples across the placid pool.

The images within the brewing pool shifted rapidly. What appeared before them was no longer the Garden of Nurgle, but a rusted iron corridor blanketed in mold. The lamps had long since failed, and only nameless insects dispelled the darkness with their abdomens.

Gegula was the first to leap into the brewing pool. The pool then began to boil, bubbles and steam churning around his armor. He called for his brothers to gather around him, then awakened the Reflection Warriors buried at the bottom of the pool one by one.

Reflection Warriors—that was what the Space Wolves called them. According to the operating manual they had obtained from the dark tech-priests, these things were called Degraded Ones.

Pale humanoid warriors climbed up step by step, gripping weapons created by the Obliterator Virus. Even after emerging from the deeply polluted brewing pool, their bodies bore no signs of Nurgle's corruption.

More than five hundred Degraded Ones marched forward stiffly and in perfect order. They raised their weapons in unison and attacked the Space Wolves and Battle Sisters fighting on the battlefield.

Finding cover in the marshland was a luxury. The firepower web formed by the Degraded Ones instantly suppressed the Space Wolves' advance.