Mortarion crouched in the narrow main tunnel like a dormant behemoth. Fifty or sixty mortal warriors crowded around him.
The air was foul, thick with the earthy stink of soil, the sour reek of sweat, and the smell of hormones the mortals gave off in their extreme tension. Mortarion could clearly hear the warriors' pounding hearts, along with the faint clinks of metal as their spear-gripping hands trembled.
Once, Mortarion would have scolded these mortals for their weakness, his face twisted with disgust. Now, he merely reached out in silence and gently rested his enormous, pale hand on the shoulder of the young warrior who was shaking the hardest.
"Grip your spear and breathe deeply." Mortarion kept his voice low, but it carried the steadiness of bedrock. "The earth will hide our scent. Wait for my signal, then drive your fear into those monsters' bellies along with your spears."
Through the glass lenses of his gas mask, the young warrior looked at the godlike pale giant beside him. Miraculously, his heart, which had almost leaped into his throat, settled. He nodded hard and tightened his grip on the spear fashioned from a xenos leg bone.
In the deepest part of the tunnel, the old doctor leaned against the earthen wall, holding a pocket watch made from a discarded gear. His chest heaved beneath his mask as he fought the needle-like tickle in his throat, refusing to let himself cough. With his eyes closed, he silently counted down.
When the tremors in the ground reached a particular frequency, the old doctor snapped his eyes open and yanked a vine beside him.
"Now!"
With Mortarion's low roar, the ground throughout the valley erupted!
Boom-!
Mortarion shattered the concealed tunnel roof with a single punch. Toxic mud and broken planks shot into the