Atop the towering water purification station.
Kicking the purestrain Genestealer he had impaled with his sword off the elevator, Sith watched its falling figure before flicking his power sword to shake off the blood.
The last few veterans activated their jump packs and flew up from the access shaft. Of the two thousand who had set out, after fighting through thousands of kilometers of a Genestealer ocean, more than half were gone.
The survivors were now all covered in blood, their fine Stormtrooper armor scarred and battered.
Everyone was breathing heavily, but they did not rest. Still gripping their combat knives and sidearms, they fixed their eyes on Sith.
Sheathing his power sword, Sith looked down at the thousands of kilometers of space elevator he had fought his way up. He gestured to the soldiers:
"Restore water supply immediately."
The veterans scattered. With the help of the few still-functioning servitor skulls within the station and coordination from the Adeptus Mechanicus on the ground, the massive steel dome above their heads groaned open to both sides, the sound of gears echoing.
Sith pulled his gaze from the 'bottomless abyss' beneath his feet and looked up instead.
A massive ice crystal, pushed by several flying Mechanicus servitors, drifted slowly into the opened dome.
Observing these expressionless 'humans'—their lower bodies replaced by flight units, their upper flesh embedded with machinery—Sith glanced twice before deciding to focus on the ice crystal.
A floating mass of ice. As the servitors positioned the crystal at the center, various mechanical instruments around it hissed to life with plumes of steam.
Numerous large mechanical arms approached the crystal. With the activation of electric drills and mechanical saws, a cacophony of 'wood-sawing' sounds filled the air, while beneath them, the pipes meant for purified water began to flow with clean liquid once more.
"My lord, your canteen."
A veteran brought Sith a canteen filled directly from the source.
After the long fight, seeing the cool, shimmering water before him, Sith took it, removed his helmet, and tilted his head back for a large gulp.
The coolness slid down, instantly washing away the stifling heat from his body.
Around him came the splashing sounds of veterans washing themselves directly with the purified water.
Putting down the canteen with a long sigh, Sith didn't even bother to lift an eyelid at the veterans' wasteful lack of 'conservation' awareness.
After all, here, even if each person used hundreds of tons daily, it would still be but a drop in the ocean of the purification station's output!
Sith's eyes scanned the area, looking for a water outlet to give himself a proper wash.
But after looking around, his attention gradually drifted from his surroundings. He slowly raised his head to gaze at the vast cosmos beyond the dome.
To be precise, at the densely packed, Within the range of the naked eye, those densely packed entities covered in all manner of blasphemous symbols and decorations...
The Chaos Host!
The fleet was boundless. And now, within that fleet, directly in Sith's line of sight, was a massive macro-cannon fully deployed, its barrel wide enough to swallow an Ork Gargant whole.
Simultaneously, the terrifyingly enormous shell within that barrel slowly revealed itself, aimed directly at Sith...
He averted his eyes, turned his head. Facing the veterans who had just fought their way up with him, Sith lowered his gaze in a silent curse before suddenly shouting:
"Everyone."
"Jump down now!!!"
Like scattered blossoms.
Hundreds of tiny figures trailing long plumes of jump pack fire suddenly scattered and fell from the top of the water purification tower.
Behind them, a massive macro-cannon shell tore through the void and slammed directly into the purification station.
The white-armored figures were still'slowly' falling, trailing white smoke, while behind them, the colossal purification station erupted into towering flames, blooming like a giant firework!
Sith's body plummeted rapidly, the air screaming with friction in his ears. Behind him, chain explosions raced down the space elevator as if chasing him.
Countless fragments of debris flew in all directions, many impacting his power armor with a rapid series of sharp cracks.
But Sith had no time to concern himself with the explosions behind. The gaze behind his helmet was fixed dead ahead, on the direction the macro-cannon shot had come from.
There, Abaddon's drop pods were piercing the cloud layer like a meteor shower!
...
When a 'meteor' suddenly crashed down from above, Bruno and Ana, even Davi Luo, paid it little heed.
Only the other surviving 101st Stormtroopers stationed around the clearing hurried forward to catch the spent jump pack Sith casually tossed down.
"Where's Bruno? Where is he?"
Without pausing for breath, the moment he hit the ground, Sith immediately demanded the location of his adjutant.
A squad of soldiers rushing past had no time to respond. Sith, frustrated, stepped forward and grabbed the leading officer, repeating the question:
"Where is Bruno?"
The anxious officer, pulled to a stop, was about to look up and curse, but seeing it was Sith who held him, he quickly swallowed his words.
Snapping to attention and saluting first, the officer then pointed to the eastern side of the tower top:
"Commander Bruno is directing the battle on the eastern flank."
Sith looked in that direction. Compared to the scattered skirmishes elsewhere, the eastern side was already completely engulfed in a sea of fire.
Even the artillery regiment not far away was frantically pouring all its firepower onto the eastern flank.
Sith released the officer. After receiving another crisp salute, he turned to head east.
But he paused mid-step. Glancing at the surviving 101st Stormtroopers around him, Sith sighed inwardly:
"You have thirty minutes to rest and rearm. In thirty minutes, return to your units."
Three thousand 101st Stormtroopers remained stationed atop the tower. This elite force capable of facing Astartes head-on—Sith knew he would need them soon.
The Stormtroopers saluted immediately. Having spoken, Sith strode directly toward the eastern flank.
Soldiers along the way saluted as he passed. As the calls of "My lord" spread, the already high morale grew even more intense.
Until Sith reached the eastern side. Seeing the scene before him, he couldn't help but twitch the corner of his eye.
The tower top area had been utterly leveled by artillery into ruins. Among the countless structural debris lay piled layers of Chaos cultists and his own soldiers.
The firefight continued. The first clash that met his eyes was a scene where a full fifty of his own recruits, wave after wave, dragged down a Chaos Astartes adorned with skulls in a mutual kill.
"What's going on? Why are there so many dead?"
Annoyed by the sight, Sith directly hoisted Bruno, who was still gripping his red-hot heavy stubber.
Suddenly torn from his beloved weapon, Bruno was stunned. Turning to see Sith in his power armor holding him aloft, the fanaticism on his face instantly faded.
Then, wide-eyed, he stared at Sith in disbelief.
"What? Too many dead?"
Bruno didn't know how to respond. Across the way, the Chaos Commander's face had completely lost the fervent heat it held upon landing, ready to begin a grand sacrificial revel.
He just stood there dumbfounded, watching his Astartes fall one after another before him. Even a flicker of doubt crossed his eyes—had he been deceived by some Tzeentchian sorcery?
"Did I just... see my Astartes... traded for..."
"...by less than fifty Mortals???"