Warhammer 40K in a box

Chapter 586 Defector

The void at the edge of the Medusa Galaxy is one of eternal stillness and frigid cold.

The fragmented asteroid belt, like the remnants of an ancient god's corpse, swirls slowly in the fading light of a star.

Here, even starlight is scarce and cold, as if the universe has fallen into a long slumber from which it will never awaken.

The three ships of the Varan Fleet—the Iron Law, the Ruthless Logic, and the Forged Contract—are tearing through this ancient darkness with near-self-destructive power.

Their bow-mounted Geller force field generators overloaded, emitting an ominous hum like a dying behemoth, desperately tearing a rift into the subspace through the curtain of the real universe.

The pale blue plasma tail trailed three piercing streaks of light in the vacuum, like frantic scars tearing open the night sky.

"Warp coordinates locked! Mandeville point ahead! Engine overloaded to critical point! For the pure logic of Valan!" On the bridge of the Iron Law, the communications officer's hoarse roar echoed between the metal walls.

Every data screen was flashing a scarlet overload alarm, making people's faces look as if they were stained with blood.

Vilidian Iron Father stood frozen in front of the tactical command console, his metal knuckles deeply embedded in the edge of the control panel.

The sensors still showed nothing, but the uneasy data flow deep within his processor was becoming increasingly turbulent.

His distress signal to the Martian temple went unanswered, met only with a cold, malicious silence.

This silence itself is the most chilling answer.

Just as he was trying to suppress the abnormally high core temperature with logical calculations, the void responded to his fear.

The space directly in front of the fleet began to distort and wrinkle, like a piece of silk being tightly gripped by an invisible giant hand.

The structure of reality groaned under its strain, and dazzling yet deadly subspace energy seeped from the cracks.

Immediately following, accompanied by a deafening roar that seemed to tear apart the laws of physics, the massive metal ram shot out into the air.

That was the adamantite ram of the battle barge "Iron Will," upon which the alien ice crystals that had condensed shattered into diamond dust the instant they appeared in the world.

Closely following behind were the grim silhouette of the heavy cruiser "Gabbro" and two frigates as agile as hounds.

Their interception array is brutally precise; the cold, heavy artillery array and torpedo tubes are already rotating and locked in place.

The cursor of death was fixated on the three fleeing ships.

"This is Chen Xi, the Chief Inquisitor of the Exile Order of the Imperial Inquisition." A cold, steady, yet unquestionable voice abruptly cut in and overwhelmed all communication channels of the Valan Fleet.

"Targets: 'Iron Law,' 'Ruthless Logic,' and 'Contract Forging.'"

"Immediately terminate all jump procedures, shut down weapons and engine systems, and undergo boarding inspection."

"This order is effective immediately and is not open to dispute."

"Any resistance will be regarded as an open betrayal of the Empire and the Primarch, and will be met with immediate and devastating consequences."

The sound was like an invisible shackle, choking the bridge.

The enslaved technicians whimpered in terror, huddled beneath the control console.

The officers stood frozen in place, their gazes darting wildly between Tie Fu and the towering shadows of the ships looming overhead outside the window.

The electronic eyes of Vilidian Iron Father flashed wildly.

Resistance? Logical calculations show that the survival probability is less than 0.001%.

Surrender? This would mean the complete end of the Varan clan's independence and his ideal of pursuing pure technology.

His microphone emitted a sharp, grating noise due to internal conflict. Finally, the frenzied engine light on the exterior of the "Iron Law" reluctantly and gradually dimmed, like the light extinguished in the eyes of a dying beast.

The other two ships also ceased combat readiness.

A desperate silence enveloped the fleeing fleet.

However, this silence did not last long.

A shadow shot out from the belly of the "Gabbro".

It was a Thunderhawk gunboat, yet it resembled a thunder javelin hurled by an enraged god, carrying with it a pure will to destroy.

Ignoring all conventional connection requests and security protocols, it charged straight at the "Iron Law" with near-suicidal determination!
The close-in weapon system of the "Iron Law" issued a belated lock-on alarm in vain, as a barrage of fire attempted to intercept it.

But they could only create a few sparks on the Thunderhawk's thick armor.

The gunboat did not evade in the slightest, but instead accelerated again.

It crashed with perfect precision and with tremendous force into the emergency docking hatch area on the side of the bridge of the "Iron Law"!
boom--! ! !
The deafening sound of metal twisting and tearing overwhelmed everything!
The entire bridge shook violently, as if it had been struck by a giant hammer!

The docking hatch, along with the surrounding frame, deformed and shattered instantly, with fragments spraying inward like cannonballs!
Smoke, electrical sparks, and leaking hydraulic vapor filled the air, and the alarm blared piercingly.

Through the breach, one could see that the menacing ram of the Thunderhawk gunboat was deeply embedded in the hull of the "Iron Law," as if it were biting down on the jaws of its prey.

The heavy emergency hatch was forcibly torn apart and ripped apart from the outside by some irresistible force amidst the desperate screams of the internal hydraulic system!
A towering figure, covered in cold, hard-lined power armor and exuding an oppressive aura like a mobile fortress, stepped onto the chaotic bridge, treading on twisted metal debris and still-burning arcs of electricity.

The smell of ozone in the air was instantly replaced by an even stronger aura of killing.

"For Valan! Purify the heretics!" After a brief silence, the guards loyal to Viridian erupted in a hysterical shout.

The hiss of the bomb gun and the buzzing of the powered weapon activated rang out instantly.

But not everyone is attacking.

More warriors clad in Steel Hands power armor stood frozen in place.

Their helmet-mounted cameras were fixed on the imposing figure that was approaching amidst the dust and smoke, their instincts, ingrained deep within their genes, were fully awakened.

The Primarch's majesty weighed on them like a tangible pressure.

The explosive bullet dropped from the trembling muzzle, and the power sword's hum went out.

“Primarch…” a soldier murmured to himself, then knelt heavily on one knee, the metal knee striking the deck with a dull thud.

Like the first domino falling, one after another, soldiers made the same choice.

Head bowed, unable and unable to muster even the slightest thought of resistance.

Their loyalty was fundamentally fractured in the face of the pressure from the source of their genes.

Feralus Manus did not even use her deadly "Gorgon Skin".

She ignored those who knelt; she retaliated with thunderous force against those who attacked her.

With just a power axe he casually snatched and precise, deadly close-quarters combat skills, he turned several Valan warriors into twitching wreckage on the ground in the blink of an eye.

The bomb was deflected by her heavy shoulder armor, leaving only faint white scratches.

Her movements were efficient and ruthless, each step carrying immense weight, and every strike containing the power to shatter stars.

(End of this chapter)