The time to assault the Abyssal Spawning Pool soon arrived.
Cassius sat inside the Land Raider, the steel seat automatically conforming to the shape of his Power Armour with a faint hydraulic hiss.
Through the reinforced viewing window, he could see the lower levels of District Eight ahead, marked as a "high-risk zone."
A massive breach in a pipe resembled the throat of some giant beast, its edges covered in a thick layer of pulsating organic growth, purple slime flowing across its surface like veins.
The low rumble of the engine starting echoed through the compartment, but Cassius's awareness drifted for a moment.
Ever since that mysterious power had eroded him, the "mental seal" forged by three hundred years of Iron Hands doctrine.
Seemed to have truly begun to loosen.
Those "weak memories" that should have been sealed away completely, crushed, and forgotten.
Kept rising like bubbles from a sunken ship, trying to break through the blockade in the depths of his consciousness.
Scenes from his memories unfolded without warning, uncomfortably clear.
[Trus Fortress Monastery had been converted from an abandoned mining asteroid belt.
The descendants of the miners living there formed the core recruitment pool for the Sons of Medusa.
Like most people, Cassius had lost his parents in a mining accident.
And so, from the age of nine, he had become one of the army of orphans.
Although his physique and reflexes far surpassed those of his peers, Cassius was naturally rigid and inarticulate, and would not fight the other children for food.
Just as he was about to starve to death, Alisa appeared.
She took him in-or rather, Cassius followed her.
Because Alisa said she was two years older than Cassius, she could let him become his little brother.
Cassius agreed.
Alisa was not particularly big, but whenever they fought for food, she always managed to seize the most through sheer ferocity.
And she always generously shared her food with her band of "little brothers," Cassius included.
Mining-worm paste tasted truly, truly awful, but Cassius had enjoyed eating it back then.]
"Sergeant, we've arrived!"
A warrior's voice over the comms channel pulled Cassius back to reality.
On the display inside his helmet, footage from the external cameras showed that the Land Raider had entered the heart of District Eight's lower levels.
The air was thick with a sickly sweet, bloody stench and the smell of biological acid, faintly detectable even through the Land Raider's filtration system.
Farther away, enormous, slowly writhing shadows were barely visible in the darkness, accompanied by the dense scraping of carapaces.
The "masters" of this place had already detected the intruders.
"Good." Cassius's reply was as brief as ever.
He was still wearing that modified suit of Cataphractii Terminator armour.
When the airtight hatch opened, and he became the first to step onto the fungal carpet covering the ground in slime and spores.
The sensation beneath his feet was sticky and warm, as though he were treading on the inner wall of some enormous creature's organs.
Almost the instant his foot touched down.
"Skree!!!"
Piercing, grating shrieks rang out from every direction!
The darkness surged like churning tides, countless scarlet compound eyes lighting up in the shadows!
Hormagaunts, Termagants, Rippers... swarms burst like a tide from every pipe opening and crevice, even erupting from spore sacs overhead.
They surged toward this seemingly rather "tiny" band of steel!
They were like hunters on a spider's web.
And Cassius's squad was the prey that had touched its threads.
The battle reached a fever pitch within the very first breath.
Before Cassius's squad reached its destination, at an abandoned industrial purification plant somewhere in District Seven.
Lynn kicked open a rusted iron door, his Chainsword roaring in his hand.
Behind him stood five hundred fully armed patrol soldiers.
Most were the Anvil Society's old core members, now looking quite imposing in matching, slightly modified guard uniforms.
Farther back stood a dense crowd of roughly five hundred Underhive civilians, carrying all sorts of homemade weapons, their eyes filled with a mixture of fanaticism and fear.
"For the Emperor!!!"
Lynn shouted, his voice echoing through the empty plant.
This was a good habit one had to develop in the Warhammer universe.
Shout a slogan before a fight-what if the Yellow One actually turned his gaze your way?
The slogan triggered a chain reaction.
"For Lord Lynn!"
Even more fanatical cries erupted from the civilians, drowning out even the patrol soldiers' answering shouts.
The corner of Lynn's mouth twitched slightly, but he immediately concealed it with a more resolute expression.
In a cleared space at the center of the plant.
Roughly fifty people in ragged clothes, their bodies covered in bizarre blood-red runes, stood around a crude altar built from scrap metal and human bones.
At the altar's center, a mass of ominous dark-red energy twisted and gathered, faint whispers filled with hunger and fury emanating from within.
The ritual had reached a critical moment.
An exceptionally tall figure turned around in front of the altar.
The skin of his bare upper body was an unnatural red, his muscles bulging, his veins writhing like earthworms.
His headdress bore Khorne's signature "bunny ears."
He held two bloodstained logging axes, his eyes crimson.
Lynn recognized him at a glance.
The "pure Chaos Cultist"!
The Khorne-worshipping guard captain who had appeared alongside the "tsundere Adeptus Mechanicus sister" and the "silent Tyranid unit" when the system first presented its options!
Tags: #[Hot-blooded idiot]#, #[Muscle worship]#, #[Short-tempered]#
What a coincidence.
An absurd sense of wonder passed through Lynn's mind.
Back when he had been offered three choices, he had chosen the Tyranids. He had never expected to come full circle and run into him here.
Still, this was the perfect chance to make up for not having been able to "cross bayonets" with him back then.
The Khorne Cultist saw Lynn too.
His simple mind was instantly set ablaze with the desire to fight.
"Blood for the Blood God! Skulls for the Skull Throne!"
He roared, clashing his axes together in a shower of sparks, then charged toward Lynn with great strides!
His bearing made it clear that he regarded Lynn, standing at the very front of the force, as "glorious prey" worthy of a fight.
The Chaos Cultists behind him were also infected by their leader's valor, charging forward with strange cries and brandishing crude weapons.
"Engage the enemy! Destroy the altar!" Lynn ordered, charging straight at the Khorne Cultist himself!
The officer's Chainsword slammed into a logging axe!
Sparks flew amid the shrill clang of metal!
Lynn's arm went numb. His opponent's strength far exceeded that of an ordinary human!
But his own physical capabilities had also improved considerably during this time.
The two were instantly locked in combat.
The Khorne Cultist fought with wild directness, his twin axes whirling like the wind.
Every cleaving blow carried tremendous force and the vicious intent to split his opponent in two, armour and all.
He completely disregarded his own defense, his eyes fixed only on attacking, attacking, and attacking again!
Lynn was far more agile.
Rather than meeting force with force, he used the reach of his Chainsword to keep parrying and dodging, searching for openings in his opponent's frenzied assault.
He noticed that his opponent's fighting style was extremely "traditional," and an idea formed in his mind.
"Is that all you've got, you heretical scum?"
Lynn deliberately taunted him as he parried.
"Did the Blood God only teach you to hack away like a lunatic?"