Furry flies gathered overhead in evil black clouds. Below them stretched an endless world of rot, its decaying trees overgrown with twisted vines and all manner of strange fungi.
Deadly venomous insects flew and crawled across the ground. Sharp brambles lurked in the soft, foul-smelling sludge, their thorns coated in terrifying toxins.
Murky rivers wound into the distance, occasionally releasing the wails of wretched souls tormented by plague.
At the center of this world of decay and disease stood a dilapidated villa built atop an enormous, rotting dead tree.
Half its windows were broken. It clung to existence beneath endless vines and grotesque lichens. The decaying entrance hall hardly looked welcoming, and beneath its rotten floorboards lurked masses of carnivorous mold, releasing paralytic plagues to devour visitors' flesh.
Any unlucky soul who wandered inside would find the villa growing larger with every step, only to discover that nothing remained of him below the waist. If he happened to encounter a virus that displeased the owner, he would discover, to his horror, that the floor was eating him alive and he could do nothing about it. Even his throat would already have rotted away.
Past a kitchen that held every poisonous substance in the world and an attic filled with preserved specimens of plague-corrupted organs, anyone lucky enough might encounter a fat green giant with enormous antlers.
Nurgle, the oldest of the Chaos Gods, had stopped stirring his great cauldron of poison, large enough to hold every ocean in the world-the repaired version. He merely gazed into the distance in puzzlement.
"Is the great extinction coming? Surging darkness approaches, but why are there strange portents as well?"
He ceased brewing his deadly poisons and, amid the giggles of countless Nurglings, slowly made his way toward the death swamps of Nurgle's Garden. Time to hear a traveler's tales.
The rebel Forge World Mavrek was utterly bewildered. Huh? I asked you to put down Nurgle's forces, so why did you hand everything over to the Imperium's Adeptus Mechanicus afterward? You've "reclaimed" the Agri World, but what about us? Although most rebel worlds had their own food-production facilities, those on the Agri World Olaye had largely been abandoned. Restarting them would take considerable effort.
Evan was directing the Battle Barge Righteous Vigil toward the remaining three worlds where he had yet to recruit. There was no reason to leave those forty recruit-conversion slots empty. He needed fresh blood quickly, then he would rendezvous with the Chief Apothecary.
The Adeptus Mechanicus personnel from Stolov who had visited Olaye were deeply puzzled. Many of the planet's scorch marks could not have been caused by an Emperor's Blade Tank; they looked more like the work of Titan-class firepower. But when questioned, Evan insisted they were traces of his orbital bombardment and casually quoted an astonishing ammunition expenditure. The Mechanicus representative immediately fell silent. You can argue that out with the Fabricator-General. I'm staying out of it.
Fabricator-General Phinnis felt like a complete sucker. Why didn't I just sign for a fixed quantity of ammunition? Why did I agree to cover a hundred years of ammunition expenditure?
I only have one Forge World. I have to fulfill the Crimson Tide Chapter's biological orders, the Dawn Angels' warship orders, your supply demands, and research Aeldari warships...
Expansion. He absolutely had to expand.
Evan asked, "Need a hand?"
Fabricator-General Phinnis: ???
Previously, while the recruits underwent conversion, the two Battle Barges had docked side by side and established a temporary passage between them. The Chief Apothecary and Techmarine had worked themselves ragged while Evan sat around writing a book.
Things were different now. Those two were still working themselves ragged converting recruits, but he had troops under his command.
Of the forty-two men, ten had gone to study on the Forge World, ten were learning from the Chief Apothecary, ten were hidden on Taste, and six were studying under the Techmarine.
That still left six, didn't it? With Evan, that made seven Astartes. Surely they could earn a little money to feed the youngsters?
And so the seven of them wandered over to the Forge World Stolov to find work.
If the Fabricator-General still had a face, it would have been dark with exasperation.
Has this Chapter no shame? You just hauled away a mountain of military supplies, and now you tell me you're here to work?
It was like someone using a thirty-thousand-yuan convenience-store gift card you had given them to buy out your entire stock. Since the card had been issued long ago, the store earned nothing from the transaction. While you were wondering how to scrape together money to restock, that person popped up and said they had spent all their money shopping and now wanted a job.
And so Evan's party of seven departed aboard a Mechanicus exploration ship. The Fabricator-General's orders were to venture farther afield now that they had an Astartes escort. In other words, get as far away from him as possible.
Anything recovered would be split eighty-twenty: eighty percent for the Adeptus Mechanicus, twenty for Evan and his men. Naturally, they could take supplies of equivalent value instead.
To be fair, that was a generous rate, considering Evan's contribution amounted to just seven men.
The exploration ship flew toward Segmentum Obscurus.
They were not actually heading into Segmentum Obscurus, but toward its border with Segmentum Pacificus.
The Imperium did not draw its Sector boundaries according to the density of planets.
Instead, it used the number of human colonies. Almost no human colonies existed along this line, so it served as the Sector boundary. In reality, it marked where the principal Legions' advance routes had met during the Great Crusade. Those areas had never been "reclaimed," so nobody even knew whether human worlds existed there.
After all, the Administratum's tax ships had to consider their shipping routes.
The exploration ship headed into these uninhabited regions. Far from being sparse in planets, they contained plenty of things valuable to the Adeptus Mechanicus.
Evan and his men had already been extremely far from the galactic center. Now they followed the boundary between the two Sectors deeper into the cosmos.
Had they advanced inward instead, they would probably have been smashed to pieces by a Necron Dynasty.
Deep in the dark universe, even stars had become much scarcer. The exploration ship surveyed numerous rogue planets. For unknown reasons, they had been flung away-perhaps ejected by their own stars, or hurled out by the pull of other stars or black holes.
They wandered through the dark universe, waiting for a sufficiently massive planet to capture them.
The Adeptus Mechanicus even observed several rogue planets orbiting an enormous rogue planet. This unusual configuration kept them collecting data for some time before they left.
Unfortunately, even that environment of gravitational tidal forces had failed to produce life.
Bored, Evan sparred with the other Astartes. These bouts between angels were probably their only way to pass the time.
Evan now strongly suspected that the Fabricator-General intended to have the exploration ship circle the entire galaxy before returning. That way, they could avoid paying him while fobbing him off with a perfectly reasonable excuse.
As an exploration vessel, the ship immediately scanned every system it reached. Resource sites were continuously marked on its charts, providing important reference data for future Mechanicus development.
Only when they reached this unknown system did the Auspex finally display an unusual signal.
The signal suggested a metallic construct floating in space. It might have been a ship, a space station, or an observation post.
The Astartes immediately boarded reconnaissance craft and set off. After being cooped up for so long, they could finally get out and fly. The three sons of Jaghatai Khan, Evan included, had been going stir-crazy.
All the sons of Ferrus Manus had gone to study under the Techmarine, so this expedition had only two White Scars descendants, two Luna Wolves descendants, and two Imperial Fists descendants. That made three reconnaissance craft, with Evan carrying an extra passenger.
The reconnaissance craft traced elegant arcs through space, using asteroids as cover as they approached the target.
Its general outline resembled a Space Hulk.
A closer approach confirmed it was an Imperial Space Hulk. Its Gothic architecture and statues of the Emperor proclaimed its allegiance.
A keel scan identified it as an Imperial pilgrim ship from M38.
Such ships were organized by the Ecclesiarchy to carry pilgrims throughout the Imperium to visit relics treasured in different regions. They usually had Sisters of Battle or other armed forces aboard for protection, along with precious Ecclesiarchy treasures that the inhabitants of each world they visited could venerate.
Could there be Ecclesiarchy treasures aboard?
We've hit the jackpot! Check its records, now!
The Mechanicus exploration ship quickly verified the keel identification code. The pilgrim ship had vanished in Ultima Segmentum during M39, and nobody knew what had happened. However, it had carried a scepter once used by Saint Katherine, a former Living Saint of the Imperium and founder of the Order of the Fiery Heart, along with an Iron Chain she had once used to bind the Imperium's enemies.
Now we're rich! Everyone knew just how wealthy the Ecclesiarchy was.
Wouldn't this bring in a massive injection of funds?
The Mechanicus personnel quickly contacted Evan to prepare a boarding operation.
Who knew what was inside? Everyone hurried to arm themselves.
Mapus, the Tech-Priest in charge of the expedition, very much wanted to keep the Astartes out of the operation. But sending his own troops into something this dangerous could earn him severe punishment if some uncanny enemy inflicted heavy losses.
After scanning the entire ship, they did indeed detect what appeared to be dormant organisms. The Adeptus Mechanicus urged caution, and the Astartes and Skitarii boarded together at the bow.
The Mechanicus shield infantry and five Rangers quickly spread out to search, followed closely by the Ironwing Dragons-the Skitarii carrying flamethrowers.
The Astartes sensed something unsettling. Evan ordered everyone to activate their multispectral tactical optics and advance in defensive formation.
Statues of the great Emperor lay shattered around them. Only halves of his portraits remained. Blasphemous designs and defaced sacred blessings were everywhere.
The Skitarii transmitted an image to Evan: an empty suit of purple Power Armour lying on the floor.
It belonged to the Emperor's Children, apparently a Noise Marine-one of those Chaos Astartes who had turned to Slaanesh.
These Astartes had once been the Third Legion, led by their Primarch, Fulgrim. They had striven for perfection in all things, serving as the Imperium's flawless blade.
After joining the Horus Heresy, they had committed massacres beyond description.
After retreating into the Eye of Terror, the Legion had seized a planet ideally suited for launching attacks against the Imperium.
Fulgrim, who had since ascended to become a Daemon Prince, then contrived an ambush against the fleet pursuing them. He grievously wounded the Imperial commander Guilliman, leaving him confined within a Stasis Field for ten thousand years.
Every Imperial loyalist harbored an indescribable hatred for the Emperor's Children. Fulgrim in particular was second only to Horus among those they despised.
Were the Emperor's Children their enemy here?
Clearly not. Their bodies had vanished without a trace. Although blasphemous designs still covered the walls, they had long since faded into indistinct smears.
What they could establish was that forces of Slaanesh had attacked this ship.
Everyone continued onward, their vigilance mounting. They passed through heavy iron doors and entered a hall.
Nobody knew precisely what had happened here, but its defenders had clearly made a desperate stand. Broken swords and Lasguns could still be faintly made out.
Every corpse had disappeared, bones and all. Even the Tech-Priest, with his comprehensive analytical and reconnaissance databases, could not determine what had happened.
What looked like unfinished sacred blessings had been carved into the floor, as though they were people's final prayers before death.
The barricades did not appear badly damaged. Whatever had happened, they had not been saturated with artillery fire.
Just as everyone prepared to move on, the Tech-Priest called a halt. Evan's keen senses also detected a dense series of vibrations.
"They're coming. Lots of them."
Enemies packed the passage entrance.
They had four arms bearing long, sharp claws, elongated heads with rounded foreheads, and long tongues that were actually reproductive organs capable of shooting parasite-like seeds. Their insect-like mouths bristled with sharp teeth, and their carapaces were exceptionally tough.
The enemy's true identity was finally revealed-Genestealers.
Genestealers were the vanguard of the Tyranids. The Tyranids devoured every living thing, leaving the planets they passed over as bare balls of earth. Their numbers were immense, and they came from the dark universe beyond the galaxy. Nobody knew how many planets they had already consumed.
Their vanguard, the Genestealers, sought planets rich in biomass, psychically alerted the Tyranids, and infected local species to cripple their defenses while awaiting the arrival of the great devourer, the Tyranids.
Genestealers generally had four forms. Through the first four generations, successive offspring increasingly resembled their hosts, while the fifth generation reverted to purestrain Genestealers. The original Genestealer that arrived would become a powerful psychic lord as its descendants multiplied.
They could parasitize different species to produce different subspecies. But compared with species such as Orks, Chaos forces, and Aeldari, which possessed either strong psychic abilities or advanced technological screening methods, humanity was unquestionably the best host in the galaxy.
This ship's Gellar Field had most likely malfunctioned in the Warp, allowing Slaanesh's forces to invade. Although the final outcome was unknown, it had definitely crashed back into realspace and subsequently encountered Genestealers.
The ship's engines were clearly damaged. Even the Genestealers could do nothing about that and had been forced to let it drift through space.
Now, after so long without feeding, they were ravenous and weak. All the first- through fourth-generation hybrids had died of old age and been eaten. Only purestrain Genestealers could enter a slumber lasting thousands of years.
They hurled themselves at Evan and the Mechanicus personnel, lunging for fresh flesh.
The Skitarii were humans who had undergone almost complete mechanical augmentation. Whether they even had any blood left was debatable.
Everyone unleashed terrifying firepower in an instant, killing or wounding swathes of the Genestealers at the front.
They normally possessed incredible speed, but they were too weak now. Their defensive carapaces were excellent, but neither the Astartes nor the Skitarii carried ordinary weapons.
"Maintain alternating cover! Their claws are sharp enough to tear through our Power Armour!"
While shouting instructions, Evan dragged Kazhaniv back from where he had pushed too far forward.
The Skitarii shield infantry are up front. What are you sticking your nose in for?
"Just like an old nanny," Kazhaniv muttered, hoping Evan had not heard.
The Genestealers attacking from the front were quickly eliminated, and the Ironwing Dragons promptly unleashed flames to destroy the biomass.
The more Genestealers there were, the stronger their leader's psychic powers became. Destroying biomass was essential, because the enemy would not hesitate to eat their own dead to replenish their numbers.
They had to clear everything out. Not a single one could be missed.
As the two sides exchanged heavy fire, Genestealers emerged from some unknown passage and attacked from behind. The nearest shield infantryman, caught scrambling in panic, instantly had his armour torn open by sharp claws.
The two sons of the Imperial Fists swiftly turned and opened fire, but there were too many enemies for them to drive back immediately.
Evan drew his Power Sword and met the Genestealers attacking from the rear. His sweeping blade quickly cut down the foremost enemies, then an overloaded ion round temporarily cleared the passage behind them.
The Adeptus Mechanicus reacted quickly, deploying large numbers of reconnaissance devices through the various passages. Whatever happened, they had to secure their retreat.
The Astartes and Skitarii advanced while conducting a thorough search. Reports of firefights kept appearing, along with lost contact with Skitarii units, while reinforcements from the exploration ship were continually ferried aboard.
The Genestealers briefly withdrew, but everyone understood that these cunning enemies were surely laying traps and waiting for their prey to enter.
Magnificent murals and glasswork, softly glowing luminous pearls, and vividly colored gemstones-everything was sumptuous. These places should have resounded with devout voices singing hymns. Now they were deathly silent, broken only by occasional rustling that appeared and vanished.
The ship's passages and the spaces between its bulkheads were the Mechanicus troops' main search targets. They were also where the Genestealers most often launched attacks.
For some reason, Evan recalled how he had ambushed five Sons of Horus aboard the Blessed Forest and killed three of them.
The Genestealers were fond of that tactic too.
A violent explosion came from a ventilation duct. Mechanicus exploration machines and Genestealers had engaged in a fierce firefight inside the narrow passage.
Strictly speaking, the Mechanicus Skitarii and the entirely mechanically ascended Necrons were the best opponents for Genestealers. The reason was simple: they possessed almost no flesh. Even if defeated, they provided no biomass to replenish the enemy. The Genestealer colony would steadily shrink, leaving its Broodlord extremely weak.
They passed through all sorts of strange Gothic rooms. Scattered weapons and empty shells of purple Power Armour lay everywhere. Could the Genestealers have invaded while the Ecclesiarchy's people were fighting Slaanesh's forces?
Sneaky bastards.
They were about to enter the gallery, the broadest and tallest space aboard the entire ship-and the hardest place to withstand a mass swarm.
The iron doors were just ahead!
Before you continue