The Shadow Crusade sweeping across all Five Hundred Worlds of Ultramar had already set dozens of worlds ablaze.
Wherever the Word Bearers and World Eaters went, all who resisted were brutally slaughtered, while those who chose surrender and a miserable survival were taken away aboard enormous warships to serve as slaves and stored sacrifices.
If the World Eaters could not resist their own thirst for slaughter, then under their primarch Angron's leadership, they had completely succumbed to the Butcher's Nails. Many planets that did not even lie along the Shadow Crusade's path had been destroyed for no reason beyond bloodlust.
The Word Bearers, on the other hand, were carrying out their primarch's plan step by step, performing their rituals of destruction with clear purpose: to please the gods of the Warp required the deaths of living beings, the souls of hundreds of billions as sacrifices.
And amid this dark tide, Amatara was the sole beacon. It stood firmly between the traitors and Macragge, a pillar holding back the rebel assault.
The once-prosperous core world had endured two Terra months of war. Its magnificent ancient structures had been razed to the ground, its forests and oceans long since completely vaporized by orbital bombardment. Only several large cities still endured beneath the protection of void shields.
"My lord, yesterday's loss report is out. We lost more than two hundred and fifty thousand mortal auxiliaries. The void shields from Position 435 to Position 522 were infiltrated and destroyed by the enemy's Space Marines. All auxiliary forces there were vaporized by enemy orbital bombardment."
"The Word Bearers released Warp daemons onto the battlefield. Some of the enemy Titans have undergone daemonic corruption, and the Edgewatch Titan Legion has suffered severe losses."
The commander's manner was practically cold. He merely nodded, signed his name on