Silent March

Li Wei felt like his lungs were about to explode.

The squad had been marching in silence for about two hours—or even longer.

In this underground world devoid of sun, moon, and stars, with only dim industrial lights, time was not just a vague concept, but a torment.

The ground beneath his feet was not a flat street, but made of countless layers of rusted metal grates, concrete blocks soaked in oil sludge, and thick, unnamed cables tangled together.

With every step, the soles of his feet felt a sticky sensation, as if he were stepping on some long-decayed lichen.

The military boots, stolen from God knows what dead man's feet, were too large, and the stiff uppers ground against his ankles like a file.

Every step was a piercing pain.

Hoo... hoo... Li Wei panted heavily, sweat dripping down his chin onto the heavy Las Pistol in his hand.

This gun was much heavier than he had imagined, its square metal casing ice-cold and utterly devoid of ergonomic design.

Compared to a weapon, it was more like a brick used for cracking walnuts.

Instinctively, he wanted to switch the gun to his other hand and rub his aching wrist.

"Don't move around."

A low warning came from his side.

It was a Stormtrooper responsible for flank security.

Though separated by a thick gas mask, Li Wei could still hear the disgust in the other's tone, as if looking at filth.

The soldier was not looking at Li Wei, but deliberately cast his gaze toward the distant darkness, as if glancing at Li Wei one extra time would soil his visor.

"Take your finger out of the trigger guard, unless you want to burn right through your own foot. You clumsy fool."

Li Wei pulled his finger back as if electrocuted, offering an awkward, apologetic smile. "Sorry, brother. Um... does this gun have a safety? I'm afraid of an accidental discharge."

The soldier finally turned his head, those dark-green tactical visors staring coldly at him.

Silence.

A suffocating silence lasted for a full three seconds.

"A safety?" The soldier's voice was filled with disbelief. "Are you insulting the Machine Spirit of this weapon?"

"Ah?" Li Wei froze.

Machine Spirit?

What was that?

"Only cowards need mechanical devices to stop a weapon from firing." The soldier turned his head away, ignoring him further as if talking to Li Wei was a waste of oxygen. "As long as you keep reverence for the Emperor in your heart, the Lasgun's Machine Spirit will not betray you. If you harbor distracting thoughts... then an accidental discharge is your punishment."

Li Wei opened his mouth, then finally closed it.

Mundane common sense told him this was an utterly absurd theory.

But looking at the Hellgun in the other's hand, connected to a backpack cable and still humming faintly, Li Wei decided to keep his mouth shut.

The squad continued forward.

Li Wei noticed a phenomenon that made his heart crawl.

This was a standard tactical formation.

Six Stormtroopers plus Inquisitor Gregor; they maintained an optimal tactical cover distance from one another, moving in unison as if they were a single entity.

Only Li Wei was redundant.

He was sandwiched at the very rear of the squad, yet around him formed a bizarre vacuum zone.

The soldiers in front deliberately sped up to stay away from him, while the rear-guard soldier deliberately put distance between them.

Whenever Li Wei tried to move a little closer to seek a sense of security, the people around him would avoid him like a plague source.

That visceral repulsion was so obvious.

No one spoke to him, and not a single person was even willing to look him in the eye.

In the words of the blind Psyker, Li Wei was the void; yet in the subconscious of these ordinary soldiers, Li Wei was an existence that caused inexplicable irritation, nausea, and even revulsion.

This sense of isolation was more terrifying than the darkness itself.

"Halt."

Inquisitor Gregor, walking at the very front, suddenly raised a hand.

Everyone stopped instantly, their movements as synchronized as a robot whose power had been cut.

Except for Li Wei—because his reaction was a half-beat slow, he almost crashed into the empty air in front of him, stumbling two steps before steadying himself as the iron plates beneath his feet emitted a harsh clang.

Several icy gazes shot toward him instantly.

If looks could kill, Li Wei would have already been sliced a thousand times.

The Inquisitor did not turn back to scold him; he simply stood quietly before a massive circular bulkhead.

This bulkhead was fully three stories high, its surface covered in thick rust and some black, moss-like substance.

A huge skull emblem was carved onto the door, except that half of the skull had been mangled by some sharp weapon.

"We're here." The Inquisitor's voice echoed in the empty corridor.

Li Wei peeked out to look. This appeared to be an abandoned energy hub.

The temperature in the air had dropped noticeably, and the noisy Hive City background noise—that ceaseless mechanical roar—vanished entirely here.

Dead silence.

Only the occasional sound of dripping water from afar: drip... drip...

The blind Psyker was dragged up by a soldier like a dead dog.

The moment he drew near this door, his entire body began to convulse violently, his hands scratching desperately at his throat, emitting a spine-chilling gurgling noise.

"It's in... it's right inside..." The Psyker vomited and wept. "This is taboo... this is the ancient hunger... they are sleeping... don't wake them up..."

Inquisitor Gregor ignored the Psyker's raving nonsense.

He reached out, his cybernetic-covered palm pressing against the bulkhead's control panel.

There was no high-tech electronic chime, only a grinding of gears.

Click... click... rumbling...

The heavy bulkhead slowly rose upward, shaking off countless dust and rust.

A stale, ice-cold airflow carrying a heavy metallic stench gushed out from behind the door, making Li Wei shiver involuntarily.

Beyond the door lay pitch-black darkness.

Even the tactical flashlights on the soldiers' helmets saw their beams swallowed up as if hitting nothingness, unable to reach the end.

"Void-1." The Inquisitor's voice rang out coldly.

Li Wei's heart jumped violently, an intensely ominous premonition welling up in his mind.

"Here... sir."

Gregor turned around, his red-glowing mechanical eye staring fixedly at him while toying with an exquisitely crafted silver lighter, the flame dancing in the darkness.

"You take the lead."

Li Wei froze.

"Me?" He pointed at his own nose, his voice shaking. "But sir, I don't even know how to use a gun... it looks really dangerous in there, I can't do it..."

"Precisely because it is dangerous." Gregor closed the lighter, producing a crisp metallic click. "The things inside are extremely sensitive to psychic energy. Any creature with a soul fluctuation entering will be like lighting a torch in the dark."

The Inquisitor stepped closer, the oppressive weight making Li Wei nearly suffocate.

"And you, you are a stone, a puff of air, a blind spot."

"Only if you go in will you fail to wake them."

Gregor reached out, pointing toward the bottomless dark.

"Go. Keep walking straight until you see a light source, or until you die."

"If you dare to turn back, my Bolter will be crueler than the monsters inside."

The two Stormtroopers behind him racked their bolts in unison, emitting a sharp clack.

Li Wei looked at the pitch-black doorway, then glanced back at the line of cold gun barrels behind him.

He swallowed hard, feeling his throat full of bitter grit.

He had no choice.

In this world, the weak had no qualifications to negotiate.

Trembling, Li Wei raised the heavy Las Pistol, taking a deep breath—inhaling a lungful of dust and mildew.

Then, walking on his agonizingly painful feet, he stepped one step at a time into the darkness that could swallow all light.