Bars held a Bolter in his left hand and a Power Sword in his right. He turned sideways, held the sword horizontally, then bent his right arm into an embracing posture. Resting the Bolter on his right elbow, he fired.
This steadied his aim and let him quickly deliver a horizontal slash against any enemy who charged within reach.
The Bolter fired without pause, tearing apart the charging enemies.
Aberrants lumbered toward Bars. These creatures were as large as Space Marines, if not slightly larger, and swung crude, brutal weapons-great hammers and axes-at him.
Bars had no intention of getting bogged down with these hulks. After a few nimble dodges, he counterattacked with his Power Sword, cutting off their feet.
These slow-moving creatures, with their powerful attacks and tough bodies, had clearly been sent to delay him.
Using his speed, he sought out somewhere with a clear view. He needed to find the enemy leader.
A Timber Rifle rattled furiously, turning the wall sheltering Bars into a sieve.
"Out of ammo! Reload, quick!" the Hybrid Neophytes above shouted. Bars immediately charged toward the watchtower. It was high enough, and posed enough of a threat.
"The red... red tin can is coming at us!" The Hybrid Neophytes on the watchtower were scared out of their wits. From up there, they could see perfectly well that their "family," no different from themselves, could do nothing before Bars but be torn apart.
"Screw this, I'm running!" Just as Bars began climbing the watchtower, one Hybrid Neophyte cracked under the pressure and jumped off to escape. More defenders followed.
A vehicle-mounted Heavy Laser Cannon fired, its beam almost grazing Bars's head. A fraction closer, and his soul would have returned to the Throne.
Looking back, Bars saw a long convoy of armoured vehicles escorting