"Above truth!"
The Thousand Sons sorcerer brandished his Magic Wand, and Tzeentch's cloud of change enveloped the fleet.
With their targets lost, the T'au Empire fleet did not pursue and withdrew behind its defensive line.
Horus quietly watched the wreckage of the distant warships.
Cold steel burned in the void. The flames of burning promethium briefly illuminated a stretch of space, combining with the overload explosions of plasma engines to form a strange source of light.
This was their eighth breakout attempt.
Days earlier, the T'au Empire had launched a counteroffensive along the entire front with unprecedented ferocity.
To withstand the T'au Empire's offensive, Horus had been forced to commit almost all his reserves to round after round of bitter fighting on the recently captured Homeworld, Vior'los.
The T'au Empire's attacks were relentless. They had even deployed enormous battlesuits, with weapons such as those of the KV139 capable of shattering Titan War Machines at extreme range.
Yet Horus found it deeply puzzling. The T'au Empire's counteroffensive seemed almost meaningless, as though they were depleting their own forces for no reason.
The answer soon came.
The Damocles Gulf had fallen. Somehow, a T'au Empire fleet had circled behind them and severed their supply routes.
Ever since the attack on the Damocles Gulf, the entire Expeditionary Force had been trapped within layers of encirclement.
Although most Dawn Army soldiers worshipped war with fanatical devotion and would not suffer morale problems anytime soon, mental fortitude could not remedy material shortages.
The frontline war factories could not produce nearly enough to cover the enormous ammunition shortfall. Without sufficient ammunition, the Dawn Army had been forced to shift its tactics toward close-range combat.
And the T'au Empire's formidable long-range firepower often inflicted devastating losses.
As for help from the others...
Bona had vanished to who