Bolter fire echoed through the ruins, each explosive shot reverberating between the shattered hab-blocks and rusting manufactorums.
Accompanying the gunfire were the howls of monsters.
Not human.
Not even truly alive.
Warp-spawned creatures lurked within the poisonous fog that covered the streets of the former hive city.
A squad from the Tempest Wardens advanced cautiously through the ruined avenue, their bolters raised and their helmet optics scanning for movement. Green mist rolled between the broken structures, reducing visibility to only a few dozen meters.
The squad's sergeant moved at the front, holding his power axe and combi-plasma in his two hand.
"Contact, twelve o'clock," he voxed.
Immediately, the squad opened fire.
Mass-reactive rounds tore into shapes emerging from the fog.
The first creature exploded apart, its bloated body bursting into foul green ichor.
The second lost half its torso before collapsing into the swamp water.
The others continued charging.
"Poxwalkers!" one of the Tempest Wardens shouted.
Dozens of plague-ridden colonists stumbled from the ruins.
Once they had been workers, miners, and settlers.
Now they were little more than corpses animated by Nurgle's gifts.
Bolter fire cut them down in waves.
Bodies fell across the cracked roadway.
Still more emerged.
"Frag out!"
A grenade flew into the center of the horde.
The explosion ripped through the packed mass, scattering limbs and rotten flesh across the street.
This continue for the whole journey.
Advance for couple of meters, then engage with the poxwalkers that emerge either from the thick fog or the ruins.
But, none of these weak creatures of the Warp can stop them and the whole squad arrived at their destination without casualties, and even on time.
One of the four church in the hive, serving as one of the many assemble points for a multi side attack on one of the alters that located at the center of the hive.
"Look's like we are last to arrived," the sergeant said as he already see the other squads that assign to this point.
Other than his squad, there also another two tactical squads, two assault squad, one devastator squad and a team of five devastator Centurion, with a Lord Sergeant leading this task force also serving as the commander of the Centurion.
"Did anything special happen on your way here?" the Lord Sergeant ask as he slighty turn his body from the center hive tower, where they will attack after the signal send out.
The Sergeant shook his head.
"Nothing out of the ordinary. Poxwalkers everywhere, and the whole hive is covered in that green fog."
"I see."
The Lord Sergeant fell silent.
The other Sergeants gathered around him but said nothing.
For several moments, only the distant sounds of gunfire and the groans of the infected echoed through the ruined streets.
Then the Lord Sergeant finally raised his head.
"Prepare for the attack."
His eyes remained fixed on the hive tower.
"Make sure all of you have replenish the supplies, we only have one chance at this," he continue. "do not let the sacrifice made by the Fire Hawks and Angels of Wrath useless."
"Your will," the Sergeants answered.
The Lord Sergeant continue to look at the tower, listening closely to the command vox-channel.
Though all of the strike forces that aim at the alters have no problem in their mission, the same cannot be said to the Fire Hawks and Angels of Wrath.
While the Crimson Fists, Iron Champions and the four Dark Knights successor chapters are responsible to destroy the alters with the Grey Knights acting as the quick response if any of them require help, both the Fire Hawks and Angels of Wrath instead are task with engaging the Plaguecaster warband, the Dark Mechanicum force and the Titans of Legio Mortis.
Before their attack begin, a new, real bad information reach them.
At a small settlement located at the center of the seven altars, the Plaguecaster had concentrated the majority of his forces. Worse still, an unidentified sorcerer had begun the ritual necessary to open a Warp portal.
The location was ideal for such a blasphemous undertaking.
The town sat at the nexus of the Warp-tainted region. The empyrean's presence there was far stronger than anywhere else on the planet, save for the altars themselves. The veil separating reality from the Warp had already been weakened by months of corruption and sacrifice.
Only a final surge of power was required.
Once the portal opened, daemons would pour into the material universe in numbers beyond counting.
Thus, a change in the plan is made.
The Fire Hawks, Angels of Wrath, and the Titans from Legio Argentum Fulgur were deployed in a circular formation to encircle the traitor forces and destroy them, or at the very least, prevent them from pulling back to reinforce the altars. While Legio Solaria are kept on the orbit, task with reinforcing the attacks on the alters if something happen there.
However, the attack against the traitors was not producing any significant results.
Due to the heavy Warp presence, the area surrounding the settlement had already devolved into a pestilent swamp. Other than the buildings within the settlement itself still somewhat standing, almost nothing remained untouched by corruption. The terrain was difficult to advance through, and small numbers of Plaguebearers and Rot Flies had already manifested in realspace solely because of the Warp corruption.
Though these daemons proved troublesome to deal with, it was the Death Guard and the Dark Skitarii that inflicted the greatest damage.
"How far are we from the town?" Garren asked as he stood atop a Land Raider Redeemer rumbling through the swamp.
"Approximately another forty standard minutes, my lord," the commander of the Land Raider replied. "If the Warp has not distorted the distance, we should arrive within the expected time."
Garren nodded as he looked over the Predators and Rhinos advancing ahead of him, while squads of Fire Hawks moved alongside the armored column.
"Any news from Tristan?"
"No, my lord. The last report we received stated that they were engaging Dark Skitarii forces and expected to continue their advance within twenty minutes," the commander answered. "We have received no further communications from them since then."
"Then we can only hope they have encountered no difficulties," Garren said.
"I doubt they have, my lord," the commander replied. "Especially with the equipment they have at their disposal."
"I certainly hope so," Garren murmured.
"What about the Titans?" he asked as he watched three Predator tanks and two squads of Fire Hawks break away from the formation and move toward the left flank.
Moments later, the sounds of bolters and autocannons echoed through the swamp. Soon afterward, the roar of flamers joined the growing cacophony of battle.
"According to the plan," the commander said, glancing down at the device in his hand, "there should be two Reaver-class Titans operating on both our left and right flanks."
He looked up from the screen.
"However, I cannot detect them. I can only assume some form of Warp trickery is interfering with the auspex readings."
Hearing this, Garren glanced to the left, then to the right. But he saw nothing except the thick green fog that filled the air.
"Send one Rhino to each side," Garren ordered, his brows furrowing in displeasure at the current situation. "They are to establish contact with the Titans. I have a feeling we will encounter the traitors soon."
"Understood, my lord," the commander answered.
Seconds later, one Rhino from each flank detached from the formation and began making their way toward the Titans' supposed positions.
After a relatively quiet journey, interrupted only by small skirmishes here and there, the Fire Hawks finally caught sight of the buildings of the settlement.
"We are finally here," Garren said as he jumped down from the Land Raider Redeemer. "Prepare for the attack. We will strike the first blow against the traitors."
As the Fire Hawks organized themselves into assault formations, a massive horn suddenly echoed across the space.
A familiar horn.
"Titans," Garren said as he began looking around, trying to identify its source, while the Knight Captains of the 3rd and 5th Companies, whose forces made up the attack group, began issuing orders to their companies, preparing for the inevitable engagement with the traitors and their corrupted Titans.
Then, four Reaver Titans—two on each flank—emerged from the thick fog and marched toward the settlement.
"It's the Silver Lightning," the Knight Captain of the 5th Company said with a sense of relief. "Good. They've made it here."
Following their appearance, more horns echoed across the swamp, signifying that all of the Reavers assigned to the attack had arrived and were ready to commence the assault.
"Well," Garren said, watching the God-Machines while listening to the chorus of war horns, "begin the attack. We need not wait for the signal from the Angels of Wrath or the other companies."
Hearing this, the Knight Captain of the 3rd Company looked toward his command squad Veteran Sergeant and nodded.
Moments later, the Whirlwinds positioned behind the armored line began their bombardment of the settlement. A rain of missiles arced overhead and descended upon the traitor positions as the Fire Hawks advanced toward their objective.
Seeing that the Fire Hawks had begun the attack, the Reavers also started their advance. Their mighty horns blared across the battlefield, proclaiming the coming death of the traitors.
As the Fire Hawks drew closer to the settlement, Death Guard Marines and Dark Skitarii opened fire from behind ruined buildings and makeshift fortifications.
But, none of it kill the Fire Hawks, other than wounding some of them.
Instead, all of them are kill or chase away as the Predators, Vindicators and Razorbacks fire into the buidlings, collapsing them with their occupants in it.
"Let's go!" the Knight Captain of the 5th Company shouted, raising his power sword as his jump pack roared to life.
"Fire Hawks! With me!"
With a thunderous roar, the assault marines of the 5th Company ignited their jump packs and launched themselves into the sky.
They descended upon the traitors like meteors.
Chainswords screamed.
Bolt pistols barked.
The first rank of Dark Skitarii were torn apart before they could react.
Behind them, the rest of the 5th Company surged forward, advancing alongside their Razorbacks. Heavy bolters and assault cannons hammered the traitor positions, cutting down corrupted Skitarii and forcing the Death Guard into cover.
Then a new wave of Assault Marines, armed with thunder hammers and power swords, charged ahead with their storm shields held high.
The Dark Skitarii were swept aside, their rusted bodies crushed beneath crackling thunder hammers and cleaved apart by master-crafted blades. Even the Death Guard line, renowned for its resilience, buckled under the ferocity of the assault.
Plague Marines were hurled to the ground by the hammer blows, their diseased armor shattered by the sheer force of impact, while others were cut down by power swords wreathed in blue energy.
With the 5th Company having opened a breach in the traitor lines, the rest of the Fire Hawks quickened their advance. Small forces were left behind to secure the flanks and eliminate pockets of resistance, while the main force pressed forward with their Grand Master at its head.
Bolters thundered.
Flamers roared.
One ruined building after another was cleansed by fire and shell.
The traitors fought stubbornly, but they could not halt the momentum of the Fire Hawks. Like a spear thrust into the enemy's heart, the Chapter drove ever deeper into the settlement, seeking the source of the corruption.
Elsewhere, however, the Angels of Wrath were not faring so well.
Clashes of chainswords and power weapons echoed through the ruins, accompanied by the ceaseless roar of bolters, plasma guns, and melta weapons. Explosions shook the shattered streets as squads fought desperately for every meter of ground.
Unlike the Fire Hawks, whose enemy consisted mainly of Death Guard and corrupted Skitarii, the Angels of Wrath had become embroiled in a brutal close-quarters battle against the Plaguecaster's chosen warriors.
Warp-tainted monstrosities stalked the ruins.
Blightlord Terminators advanced through storms of fire without slowing.
Nurgle-corrupted mutants soaked up almost every wound inflicted upon them and only died when their heads were severed or blown apart entirely. Even then, some continued to twitch and crawl forward, animated by the foul blessings of Grandfather Nurgle.
Accompanying them were the Dark Skitarii, but these were far removed from the machine soldiers they had once been. Heavily corrupted by Nurgle, their rusted bodies had become swollen masses of flesh and metal, making them far more resilient than their untainted counterparts.
Their weapons, too, had been transformed by the Plague God's gifts. Bolter rounds, galvanic blasts, and streams of corrosive chemicals carried diseases and warp-born contagions that infected any they struck. Those fortunate enough to survive the initial wounds soon found their flesh blackening, their organs failing, and their bodies succumbing to hideous plagues.
And yet, despite the horrors arrayed against them, the Angels of Wrath did not yield.
"Bring the weapons in!" Tristan ordered as he cleaved a Death Guard Marine in two with his Calibanite charge-blade.
The crackling blade tore through corrupted ceramite and diseased flesh alike before he ripped it free and fired his bolt pistol into the helmet of another Plague Marine advancing toward him.
Around him, the warriors of the Angels of Wrath fought with grim determination.
Chainswords screamed as they met rusted plague blades.
Power swords flashed through clouds of flies and pestilent vapors.
Despite their superior skill, the Angels of Wrath found themselves slowly being pushed back by the sheer weight of the enemy.
Then, through the vox, came the reply.
"Confirmed, Lord Tristan. The weapons are moving into position."
No sooner had the words left the vox than the ground behind the Angels of Wrath shook.
Massive shapes emerged from the ruins.
Ten Contemptor-Mortis emerge from the fog, their twin-linked Kheres pattern assault cannons firing at the traitors and mutants, holding them back.
Beside them are ten veteran squads, all of them equip with plasma burners and plasma incinerators, ancient weapons that bestow to them by Dark Angels due to their contribution.
Looking at the enemies being ripped apart by the dreadnoughts and many of them melted by the veteran squads, Tristan begin to rally another assault on the traitor line.
"Forward!" he yelled as he held his charge-blade high, pointed at the center of the settlement. "For the Lion! For the Emperor!"