The Unlucky Calando

At the very moment the sky went completely dark, Calando, who was cautiously leading his squad along the flank of the Ork camp, initially felt a surge of delight.

After all, complete darkness could not obstruct a Space Marine's vision, but it could conceal them from many ordinary Orks. That would make their operation easier.

And an Ork War Factory was a facility that almost never stopped operating. Its surroundings were bound to be brightly lit.

Total darkness would make the Orks activate their crude lighting system, and wherever the lights were brightest had to be either the Warboss's location or the War Factory.

But the reality was far worse than Calando had imagined.

Once the faint light from the sky vanished, the Orks seemed to grow more lively.

From time to time, groups of Ork soldiers wandered through the camp, hoisting Boyz whose bodies crackled with arcs of psychic power.

Only when he saw those Orks heading toward the nearby battlefield did Calando find an opportunity to use the crude lighting system to get a proper look at the sprawling Ork camp before him.

Orks gathered everywhere around tents of various sizes, shacks, and heaps of rubbish. Gretchin skulked about, occasionally stealing a piece of metal from a rubbish heap before disappearing into some corner.

Some particularly muscular Orks clustered together, constantly brawling with one another.

They seemed intent on establishing a pecking order among themselves.

In the open ground surrounding the camp, large groups of Orks fought one another, brandishing crude weapons in what looked like equally crude combat training.

Others brawled around campfires, with cheap liquor and containers scattered across the ground.

As he surveyed the utterly chaotic camp, Calando slipped aside and snapped the neck of an Ork sentry lurking in a corner.

The other Ultramarines