"Why hasn't he moved?!" Boss Copperhead furiously grabbed a Painboy, his mouth opening so wide as he roared that he looked ready to swallow him whole.
"Maybe... maybe the antenna isn't big enough! Yes, yes, the antenna isn't big enough!" the Painboy explained loudly, his shrill voice like a crow being strangled.
"Not big enough?! You call that not big enough?!" Boss Copperhead pointed behind him. Little Slick lay quietly on the ground, wearing a huge helmet with several cables connected to it.
The cables led to a massive antenna tower fitted with several dish-shaped antennas.
"Maybe... maybe..." The Painboy tried to explain further, but Boss Copperhead slapped him to the ground, leaving him either dead or unconscious.
Boss Copperhead gave Little Slick a regretful glance, then turned to the Boys beside him. "We can't stay here forever. Those dark twigs tricked us. It's all their fault! I want the dark twigs dead! I want all the twigs dead!"
Under Boss Copperhead's orders, vast numbers of Ork troops flooded every branch of the Webway and slaughtered all the Drukhari within. Without the Duke of Shadow Blades to command them, the Drukhari defensive lines could no longer buy any time.
Little by little, the Orks' territory within the Webway expanded, drawing ever closer to Commorragh.
At the very heart of the Webway lay the City of a Thousand Cities, Commorragh.
The buildings here were all sharply pointed and predominantly black. Their strange structures had no roofs, resembling enormous spikes instead.
The buildings also bore decorations on their exteriors: long ropes suspending the Drukhari's spoils of war-slaves plundered from various races and subjected to endless torment.
Some slaves were already dead, their corpses desiccated. Others still lived, struggling and wailing in agony. Yet all they could do was watch their blood drain