Chapter 1: Astral Knights |
Standard Terran Calendar .912.M41
In the void, numerous ships gathered together. The ornately decorated and crenellated vessels moved slowly amidst the silent darkness, seemingly gathering for an assembly of epic proportions.
The cathedrals standing amidst the complex superstructures on the ships looked as if they had been dug straight out of the ground and carved directly into the battleships, their magnificent spires scraping clear trails across the stars.
A moment later, the intricately carved, arrow-shaped prows began to turn. The formation was majestic and full of imposing might, continuously turning in the direction of the darkness in unison.
Torches burned, entirely out of place in the surrounding vacuum environment. Surging plasma flames erupted from the smokestacks on the kilometric, gunmetal-colored hulls, violently trailing faint orange wakes through space.
Such signals were only ever used before a conflict erupted. Spewing flames without regard for expenditure and releasing scorching heat was a signal meant to be conveyed to the enemy—
"We bring the light of annihilation."
Leading the fleet was a massive ship with a dark green armored prow. It looked as if it had been carved straight out of the shadows of the fleet's steel jungle. Like a dagger thrust by a silent assassin, even if it was slow, it left the enemy unable to escape and unable to resist.
It was just that the decorative style of this ship was somewhat of a killjoy.
There were only two decorations that could be specifically named—the golden double-headed eagle on the uppermost bridge and the massive symbol forged from nickel-iron, two crossed swords.
More ships followed, gradually forming into a spearhead-shaped battle formation led by her.
To express the unshakeable resolve of the Space Marines, the builders proudly carved a massive name into the hull of this battleship: Storm.
The bridge of the Storm was a solemn place, like an ancient sanctuary lost beneath the tides. The exquisitely carved walls and pillars stretched toward a vaulted ceiling illuminated by the faint glow of the ancient ship's energy shields. The stone-like walls and old decks resonated as the transitional chanting tones sharply dropped, while Cherubim swinging Auto-censers flew overhead.
Red-robed Adeptus Mechanicus Tech-Priests were loudly chanting, joining the monophonic High Gothic hymns with experienced composure. Their prayers were capable of greatly soothing the increasingly irritable machine spirits.
"...Astral Knights, the path we take as Astartes is one of hardship and dedication. As your Chapter Master, I have asked much of you in the past while protecting the territory of His Majesty the Emperor, and I have often made these demands...
But those words have never been as true as they are now!
The World Engine has already plowed a path of destruction through this sector, and it must be stopped! No weapon can harm it, no teleportation can penetrate it, but we can! We can tear the heart out of this beast and put an end to its atrocities!"
Chapter Master Amulad was delivering his final pre-battle speech. Chapter Chaplain Massayak stood beside him. A banner bearing the crossed swords shield crest swayed gently above everyone's heads. Artificial air currents wove through the steel girder frameworks, and even the low humming of the floating Servo-skulls around them was drowned out by the tremendous noise outside.
Under the downward gaze of the golden eyes of the Imperial double-headed eagle, 772 warriors clad in silver Power Armor stood in neat formation within the Hall of Glory. They listened to the Chapter Master's declaration, remaining as motionless as marble statues.
This was despite the decks beneath their feet, the surrounding walls, and even every welded seam and every screw groaning in agony.
What they stood upon was the battle barge, Storm. This was a warship laden with legends.
Its construction began four thousand years ago in the shipyards of the Forge World Riza. Throughout the entire Imperium, only six ships of its class had ever been built, and today, only three still sailed amidst the sea of stars.
Although its design blueprints and construction secrets had long been lost in the dust of history, every Riza-class was renowned for its incomparably durable prow structure. They had been designed to navigate through space mines and complex asteroid belts, enabling the Riza-class to withstand impacts that other ships could not endure.
Some Tech-Priests even believed that, merely in terms of sturdiness, the Riza-class was not inferior to the Gloriana-class battleships.
It was precisely because of this characteristic that Chapter Master Amulad had presented his own plan during an intense argument with Ventilius, the Captain of the Ultramarines' Seventh Company—a plan that was also a mad one.
The Storm would ram directly into the World Engine, piercing the enemy's seemingly indestructible Repulsor Field like a sharp nail puncturing tough hide.
Following that, all the Astral Knights would board the World Engine to make one final, desperate struggle.
This was a near-suicidal plan, yet it was not driven simply by a heroic complex. Instead, it was because this weapon had already threatened everyone...
A Standard Terran month ago, the appearance of the World Engine in the Vidar Sub-sector was completely beyond the Imperium's expectations.
To this day, it remained uncertain whether the World Engine was a Necron Tomb World propelled by xenos technology or simply a planet-sized warship built locally within the darkness of the stars.
After the World Engine's Gauss Projector Cannons turned two Agri-Worlds in the Vidar Sub-sector into scorched earth, speculations regarding its origins were cast aside; its destruction was the only thing that needed to be considered.
Under the exceptionally efficient directives of Terra, a massive fleet and no less than fifteen Space Marine Chapters massed in the Vidar System. This included ancient Chapters with storied histories such as the Ultramarines, the Astral Knights, the Invaders, and the Aurora Chapter.
They concentrated their forces and launched an attack on the World Engine, which was carrying out a bloody harvest among the planets. However, even humanity's most powerful weapons could not breach the World Engine's Energy Shield. Despite launching over a dozen assaults and undertaking more than twenty attempts to overwhelm the enemy with courage and firepower, they only succeeded in suffering countless sunken or damaged warships and millions of casualties.
Even worse, Boarding Actions seemed impossible. Neither Drop Pods nor Assault Boats could penetrate the World Engine's shield, and even Teleportation Beams had their frequencies disrupted upon being projected onto its surface. After the Invaders Chapter lost two entire squads of Terminators for this very reason, any similar attempts were strictly forbidden.
Under such circumstances, Company Commander Ventilius of the Ultramarines' Seventh Company had ordered all forces to retreat. However, such an outcome would leave the Hive World Vavencaster exposed to the Necron scythe—a planet inhabited by 2.1 billion lives.
Astral Knights Chapter Master Amulad had engaged in a fiercely heated debate with him, ultimately deciding to adopt this extreme plan. The price was highly likely to be the entire Chapter.
Every Astral Knight knew what this plan entailed. No one voiced any objections. This was their destiny. From the moment they accepted the augmentations, from the moment they donned this Power Armor symbolizing supreme honor, sacrifice became the ultimate destination for all Space Marines.
They were the extension of an immortal will, the Angels of Death of the Emperor, walking manifestations of ultimate retribution, and the last bulwark standing between humanity and the eternal darkness of the galaxy.
Emperor's Light, Dispelling Shadows.
"...Emperor's Light, Dispelling Shadows."
Sergeant Soshyan Alexey, belonging to the 6th Company, 4th Tactical Squad, repeatedly recited the prayer etched deepest in his memory, while other Battle Brothers did the same over the communications channel.
He could be considered a Recruit, having just left the Scout Company thirty years ago.
Thirty years might be half a lifetime for a Mortal, but for a Space Marine, it was naught but the turn of an Hourglass.
Intense tremors pierced through the Mag-locks on the soles of his boots. The warship, which normally sailed with exceptional stability, now felt like a small skiff struggling amidst a surging ocean tide.
Soshyan did not need to see with his own eyes to know that the Storm had already initiated a firefight with the enemy.
He could detect those distinct impacts. For instance, the sound of Lance Batteries striking the deck differed from a laser array, and the roar of a Macrocannon was like a volcanic eruption, each accompanied by an agonizing vibration.
A moment later, a sound like a grinder emerged.
This was the noise produced when a massive volume of firepower struck armor unprotected by a shield. The Storm's posture at this moment was like a hunter closing in on its prey and ruthlessly stabbing a knife into its ribs.
Were it not for the Storm's exceptionally robust prow structure, it likely would have already disintegrated under the enemy's concentrated barrage. But in truth, it was only a matter of time.
Through his helmet, Soshyan could smell that everything around him was exuding the stench of death. This included the cold machinery, mingled with the distinct chemical odor of burning conduits and melting metal.
The Servants were scurrying blindly and screaming beneath the deck. They might not have possessed the loftiest of ideals, but as the saying went—
Sacrifice is the foundation of the Empire.
Regardless of their will, this was destined to happen. The Emperor would spend His currency at the appropriate time and place.
The World Engine seemed to be a fitting place.
Before that, however, before everything came to an end, the Mortal thoughts in Soshyan's mind, which had lain dormant for a long time, stirred once more.
Like most of the dying, there would always be something, like a ghost, attempting to make these great warriors truly feel the agonizing pangs of death.
That thing was called memory...
(End of Chapter)
