The shock and awkward silence in the medical bay, brought on by Sanguinius's resurrection, were broken by the clamor outside.
The clang of metal, heavy footsteps, and weary yet orderly commands intertwined into a symphony of survival after battle.
Guilliman frowned slightly, while Dante temporarily pulled himself from his tangled thoughts.
Everyone looked through the damaged observation window of the medical bay.
Outside lay a wrecked landing pad that also served as a temporary square.
The wreckage of the Spirit of Fire lay slanted across the scorched ground like a steel beast that had been gutted.
Its hull was covered in massive, horrifying tears and corrosion marks. Its internal structure lay exposed, wisps of blue smoke rising from within.
Clearly, it had endured an unimaginably brutal battle and had completely lost all repair value.
Captain Anderson was directing the surviving crew and intelligent machines as they carefully carried out equipment modules, data cores, and weapons ammunition that had not yet been entirely destroyed from the Spirit of Fire's wreckage.
Their movements carried a solemn, ceremonial air, as though they were sorting through the belongings of a comrade who had died heroically in battle.
Nearby, a group of battered Spartans, their power armor badly damaged, silently organized their equipment.
Their numbers had clearly dwindled, and many familiar faces were no longer there.
The losses in heavy weapons were even more severe. The few remaining Armored Scorpions stood silently nearby, their hulls covered in deep scars and corrosive craters. Nanorepair Worms slowly crawled over their wounds like industrious worker ants.
"The Spirit of Fire... fulfilled its mission." Guilliman's voice carried a trace of heaviness.
This first-contact vessel from the Hilling Empire had witnessed the brutal struggle between the Imperium of Man and the swarm, only to finally fall on the battlefield defending