The enemy Titan Legion was devastated by a sudden bombardment from the Wind and Cloud-class Battleship. Vashtorr certainly could not match the Four Gods in the strength of his Warp mists; he generally compensated for his defenses with mechanized armor.
No one knew what Ironforger was planning, but he withdrew with his heavy forces. Wrecked daemon tanks littered the front. The creations of the Dark Mechanicum were so blasphemous that even the sounds they made when a bomb's shock wave swept over their remains could drive people mad.
On the defensive line, the mortals frantically dug trenches and repaired fortifications during the lull in the enemy assault. Blood ran down the hands gripping their shovels. To an observer, they seemed to relish the process.
Cool, clear water flowed down parched throats, and the sensation was exquisite. Evan saw one soldier approach a Tech-Priest in the rear and ask him to weld a metal cup to his throat so he could drink sweet water forever.
The Tech-Priest swung his power saber and struck him.
Evan stepped down from the Space-based Platform. The flying daemon was dead, its absurdly heavy body gone. With expressions of disgust, the Adeptus Mechanicus personnel ordered their Servitors to sweep the remaining blasphemous metal off the aerospace platform.
The malfunctioning Servitors were cut down after finishing their work and piled together with the masterpieces of the Dark Mechanicum. Evan stood beside the heap of wreckage, which rose like a small hill, looking down at the Tech-Priest.
As the priest chanted loudly, the Space-based Weapon Array rose into the air again. Transport platforms from the Adeptus Mechanicus floated out from the hive city's towering defensive walls, delivering a fresh batch of Skitarii and Servitors to the Weapon Array.
Watching the platform rise slowly, Evan gradually lifted his gaze