The Emperor’s Angel of Death

The wide judgment hall of the Department of Justice Fortress had lost its usual solemnity. Everywhere were massive arrays of contemplators, thick cables carelessly strewn across the floor, easy to trip over. Tech-Priests who hadn't been evacuated were busy tuning equipment or collecting any data they could find. In the center of the hall was a huge pict-caster, its watery projection displaying many details of the hive city, even the collapsing spires.

Sablin walked to the pict-caster and summoned an intelligence image of a specific area. In the blurred and snowy footage, a group of Necron infantry, clad in rust and wielding gauss rifles, advanced slowly in a dense formation along an avenue flanked by ruins.

"The enemy has begun advancing towards the mid-hive. This is the western main passage, but only two Orpheus local regiments are stationed here. I fear they won't be able to hold it."

"Report!"

An officer suddenly ran over and saluted Sablin.

"Sir! We received an emergency communication from the Amara 193rd Infantry Regiment! But there's no response now!"

"Play it."

Wired communication accounted for a large proportion of the hive city's communication methods, which meant that its internal communications were not easily cut off. This was why Talos had to leave people here to defend it. The Department of Justice Fortress was the key node connecting all communication lines. As long as it was held, the hive city would not fall.

Soon, a panting, weak voice sounded from the small speaker next to the pict-caster, accompanied by dying moans and sporadic gunfire.

"Reporting to command, and forwarding to Commander Sablin, the enemy has broken through all defenses at the F3 area pumping station. The requested reinforcements have not arrived. I, Leonard, and all the officers and soldiers of the regiment, are determined to repay the Throne with our deaths. We have resolved to become martyrs. Please command pay attention to enemy actions in this direction."

The last few words were almost struggled out. Sablin took a deep breath, feeling a sudden weight on his shoulders.

He didn't even know there was such a unit, and he had never met that regimental commander. He looked at the hologram. The F3 area should be a location in the lower hive close to the upper hive. It should have been abandoned, but an entire regiment was holding out in it, isolated and without support, until the command only received the message when the entire army was wiped out.

"Report! Urgent message from the 13th Street warehouse! The enemy has broken through the front and needs support!"

"13th Street Warehouse?"

Sablin looked at the location of that direction. It was already on the edge of the mid-hive. The most critical thing was that this warehouse stored a large amount of food, which could not be transported away for the time being. The limited transportation capacity was now being used to transfer soldiers and equipment, but if these foods were lost, it was very likely to affect the subsequent defense—even if he had never really commanded a war, he had read about it, and the importance of food to defense was no less than bullets.

"Weren't there seven regiments stationed there? Can't they hold it?"

"It's okay, I'll take some people to take a look. Didn't we leave some combat robots? I'll take some with me."

Seeing Li Lin take the initiative to volunteer, Sablin nodded.

"Alright, let Alvarez take the combat robot formation with you. Remember, don't be reckless."

"Don't worry, I've already seen how powerful these Necrons are. I'm not that stupid."

"Warriors!"

In the smoking ruins, the officer raised the loudspeaker and shouted on the position.

"This is our home! Our ancestors built this city with blood and hard work. They took this land back from chaos worshippers and blood sacrificers, and purified it with the power of faith! Soldiers of Amara, what legacy will you leave behind? Will you let this city fall, or will you stand up and eliminate any enemy who dares to step into this gap?"

Deafening roars responded to the officer's words, proving that his troops had not lost their fighting spirit.

When the first shadow appeared in the rubble-filled gap, the morale of the troops was tested.

Private Ul felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned his head and saw the smile of Company Commander Foreser. The veteran's left half of his face had been burned beyond recognition. Not long ago, he had a rather handsome face. This pain must be unbearable for ordinary people, but the tall warrior didn't seem to care.

"The time has come. How many metal skeletons are you going to take down before we die, shorty?"

"Sir, are we going to die?"

It was difficult for him, who had just turned eighteen, to imagine the topic of death. Although he was born in the lower hive and had seen brutal street fights, it was not directly linked to death for a young man.

The company commander sighed.

"They have already won. They have drained our blood, and now they are here to complete their mission. They will build their evil totems on our bone piles. Perhaps the Emperor will send His angels to save us, but the probability of that is strictly not very high."

In this darkest moment, both encouraging and despairing words seemed so futile and absurd. Seven regiments, with a considerable number of heavy weapons, and even 3 tank battalions, couldn't hold the enemy for even an hour.

Then, the artillery fire sounded, and the air was filled with screaming metal fragments.

This was the last artillery in the regiment. They used to have a powerful artillery position, but almost all the artillery was destroyed in the attack of those giant mechanical crawlers that suddenly drilled out of the ground. More than half of the artillerymen were killed or injured until the Leman Russ of the tank battalion desperately rammed and fired at close range to destroy them.

In the roar of artillery shells, a crisp sound of metal bursting could be heard. Ul shrank behind the bunker, surrounded by his comrades. The ground was scattered with bloody helmets, guns, and even a pile of things like grenades.

The corpses were dealt with, but no one dealt with the objects left by the dead for a while.

"Prepare to fire!"

Hearing the command, Ul stuck his body out, his lasgun resting on his shoulder.

Suddenly, on his left, a soldier disappeared in a bloody mist. Two other warriors also fell, screaming and grabbing their bleeding remains that had been wiped out by half.

No bullets, no shells, only chilling green beams.

The enemy started shooting before them.

And the muzzle flashes of the other side also exposed their positions. They were terrible monsters, dragging their heavy steps, like ghosts walking in the night, with ghostly green eyes in their empty eye sockets. The body structure was so similar to humans, almost a blasphemy.

They formed a dense formation, holding powerful rifles in their hands, and each shot would bring a rain of death—although the combat manual has repeatedly emphasized that alien weapons are weak and unstable, and may kill themselves at any time due to bore explosion and self-destruction, but Ul has not seen an example so far.