The ice plains of Helson III trembled, as if the entire planet was quivering within the belly of some ancient beast.
Chapter Master Yorl of the Blood Knights Chapter stood within the makeshift command post, his crimson Power Armor covered in frost, the ice condensed at its joints flaking off with his movements.
Behind his faceplate, his eyes were fixed on the constantly expanding red area on the holographic tactical map—that represented the intensifying Orks' offensive, like a surging, murky flood, eroding the last weak points of the human defense line.
Even more unsettling was that the Orcs' attack routes were not chaotic; their objective seemed to be not merely to breach the human defenses, but to converge on a specific coordinate deep within the ice plains.
"What are they excavating?" Yorl's voice was low and hoarse, like two rusted pieces of metal grinding against each other.
His calloused fingers swiped across the data-slate, pulling up images sent back by a reconnaissance team at great risk.
Deep within the ice, an ancient metal structure, frozen for ten millennia, was being crudely excavated by the Orks; Mekboys wielded welding torches and drills, and rusted runes flickered with an eerie green light under the searchlights, as if responding to the Orcs' savage hammering.
"An Old One relic?" Sea Hare stood to the side, his brow furrowed into a deep crease.
He was not a military expert, but even he understood that allowing these natural war machines to gain any form of technological enhancement would be a catastrophe.
Those killing machines, cobbled together from scrap metal and insane 'I-think-so' logic, if they were to gain the blessings of ancient technology…
"No, worse than that." Yorl suddenly gripped the data-slate, and his armor's servo-system emitted a dangerous hum.
He violently zoomed in on a corner of the image—deep within the ice fissure, a massive green body was vaguely visible, frozen within the thick ice wall like a prehistoric insect in amber.
Its size far exceeded that of a normal Orc; its muscular arms were almost as thick as an Astartes Warrior's waist, and its tusks protruded from its lower jaw like Power Axes, maintaining a skyward roaring posture even while frozen.
At the same time, it was clad in a suit of Power Armor that looked incredibly advanced at first glance, and in its hand, it held a hammer that appeared as large as a family car!
(Kroak's concept art, possibly fan-made, not guaranteed to be authentic)
The air in the command post instantly solidified.
"Kroak…" Sea Hare's throat tightened.
—The legendary Old Orc, a monster capable of wrestling with a Primarch.
"Do you know what this is?" Chapter Master Yorl's gaze was fixed on Sea Hare, demanding to know what this seemingly unimaginable giant beast before him was.
Chapter Master Yorl had initially thought it was one of the "Beasts" that had appeared in the Beast Wars recorded in Imperial history, but now he heard a name from Sea Hare's mouth that he had never heard before.
Kroak, a name Yorl was certain had never appeared in any official Imperial records.
"Alex once mentioned it; in the era when the Necrons were still active, they waged war against a race called the Old Ones, a war known as the War in Heaven." Sea Hare had no sense of secrecy at this moment; in his eyes, this was not a secret: "The Necrons received help from reality-bending gods called C'tan, wantonly twisting physical laws, folding or changing cosmic dimensions, and the war that erupted between them and the Old Ones, who mastered psychic technology and the Webway, even tore the galaxy apart.
To contend with the Necrons and the C'tan, the Old Ones modified the Orcs and Eldar to serve as their vassals in this galaxy-tearing war.
And Kroak was the war weapon created by the Old Ones at that time to fight against the Necrons and the C'tan; they are also the ancestors or origin of the current Orks."
"They are the ancestors of the Orks? Are they very powerful?" Yorl watched Sea Hare, asking the question he cared about most: "If the Orcs dig it out, what will be the consequences?"
Facing Yorl's question, Sea Hare looked into his bloodshot eyes and asked in a faint voice, "How much impact would the return of a Primarch have on the Astartes? Kroak is to the Orks what a Primarch is to a Space Marine."
Upon hearing this, Yorl instinctively wanted to rage; how could this monster before him compare to the noble Primarchs!
But then he felt a chilling dread that made all the hairs on his body stand on end.
Because Sea Hare added, "The 'Beast' from the Beast Wars that could fight Lord Vulkan one-on-one did not reach Kroak's level of size, and its strength was even far inferior."
"We must stop their excavation!" Chapter Master Yorl's emotions suddenly calmed down, for he knew that the Blood Knights had found a mission worthy of their everything; they would cleanse their dishonor in the name of Sanguinius.
"Assemble all Blood Knights who can still fight! We will raid the relic and destroy that device!"
Sea Hare instinctively tried to stop him: "Chapter Master Yorl, we must inform Alex about this! We need reinforcements, our forces are insufficient now, you—"
"Mortal, this is not a request, but a notification." Before Sea Hare could finish, Yorl interrupted him, his voice as cold as iron: "Honor cannot be stained. Even if we die in battle, we must stop them from awakening that monster."
—
Three hundred Blood Knights charged through the howling blizzard, their red Power Armor covered in frost, their jump packs spewing fiery blue exhaust, carving countless dazzling streaks of light across the dark night sky.
The hum of Chainsword intertwined with the frenzied war cries of the Orks, playing a symphony of death.
However, when they rushed into the ancient relic's perimeter, what awaited them was not only the Warlord's meticulously laid ambush, but also more ancient Orks awakening from deep within the ice.
These monsters, frozen for untold centuries, were larger than modern Orcs; their muscular bodies were covered in armor that looked crude but could easily withstand Bolter fire, and their tusks protruded like scimitars.
The weapons in their hands were not crudely made scrap, but exquisitely forged killing tools.
Sharp battle-axes, heavy Power Hammers, and even some strange firearms suspected of being ancient technology.
They were not Kroak, but no one knew what era they belonged to.
Their fighting style was brutal and efficient; each charge was like the trampling of an ancient behemoth.
It even made the battle-hardened Blood Knights feel a delusion, as if they were fighting the terrifying Orcs from the "Beast Wars" period recorded in Imperial history.
Casualties rapidly mounted.
One Blood Knight was struck head-on by an ancient Green-skinned Orc's Power Hammer; his chest plate instantly caved in, and he was hurled into the ice like a cannonball; another warrior's Chainsword had just severed an Orc's head when a battle-axe from the side cleaved open his shoulder plate, his blood instantly freezing in the extreme cold.
"Hold the line!" The Blood Knight's Captain roared in the comms channel, but his voice was quickly drowned out by the deafening war cries of the ancient Orks.
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