Amalaga stood within the flesh balloon, admiring the culmination of his art.
He had heard that the monkeys called the bravest, most devout, wisest, most compassionate nuns chosen by The Emperor Living Saints. But the thing he had created clearly had nothing to do with any of those fine qualities.
So he gave it the stage name: Dead Saint.
Its scientific designation was: Hate Virus Culture Subject One.
Now, Amalaga merely wanted to see whether the Dead Saint created in his laboratories and torture cells was stronger than the enormous flesh beast before his eyes.
All data... was useful...
Amalaga did not need to give the order himself. These servants loyal to the Haemonculi master naturally pounced upon the wounded beast.
"Those uglies are coming! Boyz, keep fighting!" Old Ironhead shouted through the loudspeaker, putting every boy who had been about to catch his breath back on alert.
The charging Wracks were halted by the hail of bullets. These twisted, brainless monsters did not think of dodging at all. Like living cannonballs, they plunged through the firepower and crashed into the node fortress.
With their mutated bone blades and dismemberment tools, they slaughtered the Ork boyz within the fortress.
The Gork-Emperor was under attack. The Orks upon it struggled desperately, but the flesh beneath its armor was not without the strength to fight back.
A torrent of arms seized the Wracks, tearing them apart and dismantling them. Great mouths opened across its upright hide, swallowing the monsters that flew toward it.
Teeth ground together as blood sprayed forth. Severed limbs adorned every corner of the Gork-Emperor, while furious howls rang through the sky.
The survivors looked up at the grotesquely proliferating giant flesh monster in the sky and stood there stupidly. They had never imagined such madness could unfold in