Warhammer 40K in a box

Chapter 362 Chaos Egg

32 and Guterres led their respective killing squads deep into the abandoned industrial area of ​​the Underhive, following clues provided by Gross.

This place was once an important stronghold of the Hand of Redemption, but now only ruins and eerie silence remain.

The air was thick with the stench of decay and rust, occasionally punctuated by the low growls of mutants, like wild beasts lurking in the darkness, watching their prey.

“Psionic readings are abnormal!” 32’s mechanical eye flashed coldly as it scanned the surrounding environment: “The subspace fluctuations in this area are extremely unstable, and there may be psionic activity.”

Guterres gripped his explosive pistol tightly and said in a deep voice, "Be careful. Mutant psionicists are more dangerous than ordinary enemies."

The procession continued forward, passing through rusted metal corridors and collapsed pipes, the air thick with the stench of rotting flesh and industrial waste.

Suddenly, the view opened up before them—a modified mutant settlement came into view.

Dozens of makeshift shacks were crookedly built among the abandoned machinery wreckage, pieced together from rags, scrap metal, and the leather of mutated creatures.

At the center stood a twisted altar, made of rusted metal and human bones, its surface covered with blasphemous runes, each scratch oozing dark red blood.

Rotten chunks of flesh and dried entrails were scattered around the altar, flies buzzed around, and a nauseating sweet and fishy smell filled the air.

The mutants knelt before the altar, their hunched and deformed bodies twisted and contorted. Some had humped backs, while others had extra joints growing on their arms, and their skin was covered with pustules and wriggling tumors.

They chanted chaotic prayers in low voices, their voices hoarse and fervent, like some kind of morbid chorus.

When the searchlight beam swept across them, their eyes reflected a wild, red light, like predators lurking in the darkness.

"Prepare for a surprise attack!" Guterres's voice was deep and cold on the communication channel.

The Astartes warriors spread out silently, taking over the high ground like shadows—broken beams, collapsed concrete blocks, rusted pipes, and behind each cover lurked a fully armed angel of death.

The 32 mechanical tentacles swayed gently, and four intelligent mechs quietly took their positions under her control, their cannons locking onto the altar, and the servo system emitting a faint hum.

The battle broke out in an instant.

The first blast of the explosive gun ripped through the silence, and the upper body of the mutant kneeling on the outermost edge exploded into a bloody mist, with fragments of bone and flesh splattering across the altar.

Immediately afterwards, a barrage of explosives rained down, blasting the mutants to pieces before they could even react.

An Astartes warrior leaped from a height, his power sword flashing, slicing a fleeing mutant in half at the waist, splattering his blood onto the rusty ground.

The 32 intelligent machine guns opened fire. The roar of the heavy bombs was deafening. The bullets pierced through the tattered rags and sheet metal of the shack, tearing the mutants hiding inside to pieces.

A mech raised its multi-barreled thermobaric cannon, and a stream of blazing white plasma swept across, instantly vaporizing the bones and chunks of flesh piled up beside the altar, turning the two screaming mutants into charred remains.

However, the mutants' fanaticism was not defeated by fear.

The survivors let out inhuman howls, grabbed rusty knives and axes and homemade laser guns, and frantically pounced on the invaders.

Their movements were bizarre and swift, their deformed limbs bursting with incredible power, but against the steel torrent of Astartes, their resistance was like a mantis trying to stop a chariot.

Guterres shattered the head of an oncoming mutant with a single shot, then retaliated with a powerful punch that caved in the chest of another enemy.

Blood and bone fragments splattered on his armor, turning the black power armor a dark red.

In just a few seconds, the settlement had been transformed into a bloody slaughterhouse.

However, just as the group was about to wipe out the settlement, a blinding beam of psionic light burst forth from behind the altar. A tall, mutant psionicist stepped forward, his arms transformed into twisted tentacles, and his body surrounded by raging psionic lightning.

“Foolish mortals! How dare you disturb a sacred ritual!” The psionicist’s voice was like the scraping of metal, harsh and distorted.

He raised his hand and a psionic storm swept in, sending two Astartes warriors flying and crashing heavily into the wall.

32 immediately activated the defense protocol, and the intelligent mechs unleashed their full firepower in an attempt to suppress the psionicist.

However, the opponent's psionic shield was unbreakable, and the bullets and energy beams were easily deflected.

Guterres roared and charged forward, brandishing his power sword, only to be repelled by a psionic shock from the psionicist, leaving a charred mark on his chest armor.

"His power is increasing!" 32 sensed the anomaly; his psionic readings were skyrocketing. "He's overdrawing his life force!"

The psionicist's body began to convulse violently, his skin undulating and swelling like boiling wax, and countless lumps wriggling wildly beneath his skin, as if hundreds of parasites were gnawing at his flesh.

His bones made a chilling cracking sound, his spine twisted and stretched, and his shoulder blades pierced the skin, folding outwards like deformed wings.

A shrill, inhuman scream emanated from his throat; his vocal cords were already torn, leaving only the ear-piercing buzzing of chaotic energy vibrating within his vocal cavity.

Suddenly, his eyeballs burst open, and black pus and blood flowed down his cheeks, replaced by two burning psionic flames.

Rifts in the subspace tore open around him, and purplish-black energy coiled around his body like tentacles, dragging him little by little into the abyss.

His flesh and blood began to swell, merge, and recombine. His arms split into several slimy tentacles, his lower limbs collapsed into thick fleshy pillars, and white bone spurs pierced his back.

With a heart-wrenching scream, his head finally exploded, replaced by a gigantic mouth covered with spiraling teeth.

His body completely disintegrated, then instantly reformed into a gigantic chaotic egg—a three-meter-tall deformed mass of flesh studded with eyeballs and fangs, with a dozen tentacles flailing wildly, each tipped with a claw or sucker.

Its body constantly oozes corrosive viscous liquid, which drips onto the ground with a sizzling sound and emits pungent yellow smoke.

The Chaos Egg let out a deafening roar, the sound wave carrying a psionic shockwave that blew away all the nearby shacks.

It swung its tentacles and slammed them into the ground, causing the entire area to tremble violently and cracks to spread like a spider web.

A tentacle swept across, smashing an intelligent mech in half, sending sparks and hydraulic fluid spraying out.

Another tentacle wrapped around an Astartes warrior and slammed him against the wall, his power armor dented and deformed upon impact.

The .32 bomb gun roared and unleashed its firepower, but after the bullets entered the flesh of the Chaos Egg, they were directly swallowed up by the writhing tissue, leaving not even a trace of a wound.

Guterres charged forward, swinging his power sword. The blade severed two tentacles, but more twisted flesh sprouted instantly from the cuts.

The Chaos Egg's massive maw suddenly opened, spewing out a psionic storm. Guterres was thrown back by the shockwave and crashed heavily into the ruins, his helmet display flashing a red damage warning.

The entire settlement was on the verge of collapse, the ceiling was being torn apart by the psionic storm, and steel bars and concrete blocks were falling like rain.

The 32 mechanical tentacles rapidly calculated their retreat route, but were blocked from all sides by writhing flesh and turbulent psionic energy.

Every eye of the Chaos Egg was locked onto her, and the viscous fluid dripping from its enormous mouth carved deep pits into the ground.

In her desperate situation, she gripped the plasma pistol tightly, the hum of an overloaded energy core ringing in her ears—this was her last resort.

(End of this chapter)