Hold the Line (Part 1)

The holographic image projected onto the smooth surface of the plotting table, casting a harsh light through the staff headquarters.

It folded sharp shadows around the gleaming walls, bleaching the sun-darkened faces.

The air was thick and heavy with the smell of grease smoldering inside the lamp housings, a stench like fat mixed with chemicals.

The officers had endured those odors for two weeks. Some had adapted, while others had begun coughing, rubbing their eyes, and tearing up constantly.

Nutans did not know whether those tears were caused by the chemical irritants in the lights or by the sight of this beautiful world being destroyed.

He guessed it was both.

As he gazed upon the desolation of Mount Mishil, he felt like crying.

After all, this had once been one of the Imperium's most beautiful landscapes, with its breathtaking forests, sheer cliffs shaped by nature's hand, shimmering lakes, and snow-capped peaks like a crown.

Now, everything was either burning or shrouded in smoke, choking beneath pollution.

Guk had never feared extreme measures. He had unleashed his executioners in the most vicious way imaginable.

Nutans had once heard the Shadow Prince say that Guk's legions could succeed where other human armies failed because Greenskins were willing to go further than any human force in committing acts abhorred by every civilization's rules of war.

Seeing what had been done to Weitlier, he understood completely.

This was no glorious war. It was merely slaughter and destruction made manifest.

After a ferocious sorcerous bombardment had leveled most of its snow peaks, the Orks surrounded the entire mountain range with an overwhelming force.

Yet Mount Mishil still held immense value.

It was the meeting point of several river valleys in the heart of the canyon, the only route through which heavy machinery could travel. That