Warhammer 40K in a box

Chapter 667 Burning the Ocean
The distorted collective consciousness of the Tyranids, like a behemoth with severed nerves, descended into a final frenzy after the destruction of their core lair. This was not a tactical counterattack, but a biomass tsunami stemming from an instinct for destruction, sweeping across the entire planet.

The remaining Zerg units no longer accept unified command; their primal, insatiable thirst for life signals transforms into a murky tide of death, surging toward the last remaining major continental coastline of the "Azure Dawn."

Just as the Astronauts had erected a crumbling defensive line using fortifications, the sea suddenly began to boil.

Billions of Tyranid creatures—from marine mutants corrupted by the doctrines of the Thieves to deep-sea nightmares directly hatched by the will of the Hive—are like black asphalt gushing from the bottom of the abyss, spreading across the beach and blotting out the sky.

Amidst this churning, frenzied tide, several Leviathan-class Titans emerged like scarred mountain ranges, breaking through the waves.

Their thick chitinous carapaces were covered with charred wounds from the burning of light spears and the bombardment of macro cannons. Corrosive purplish-black blood gushed from the ruptured wounds, but it did nothing to stop their march of crushing everything in their path.

Their raised bioplasma cannons, glowing with a morbid green light, unleashed devastating torrents of energy at the coastal defense fortress.

"For the Emperor! Hold the line! Not a step back!" The frontline commander's roar was so conspicuous amidst the roar of the bomb guns, the shrieks of the laser cannons, and the echoes of the aliens' howls.

On the tracks, the Imperial Navy responded with steel and fire.

HMS Steadfast Will and its escort fleet, along with the three strike cruisers of the Confessional, unleashed a devastating barrage of bullets.

The light spears tore through the atmosphere like sacred swords of judgment, illuminating the coastline in a ghastly white light; the array of macro cannons fired in unison, their shells falling like meteors into the beast tide, each salvo creating a brief vacuum of flesh and blood amidst the surging alien waves.

The sea surface was ignited and evaporated by continuous energy bursts. Dense water vapor mixed with gunpowder smoke and burnt organic dust to form a suffocating yellowish-brown haze. The air was filled with the pungent smell of ozone, the stench of burning flesh and blood, and the sweet smell unique to Tyrannosaurus, enough to cause unprotected lungs to ulcerate rapidly.

The Thunderhawk and Storm Raven gunboat squadron of "Blade of Repentance" pounced on their prey like a flock of eagles, braving a dense barrage of spore cannon fire rising from the sea, carrying out dangerous dive-bombing attacks, and using precise firepower to eliminate the large targets that posed the greatest threat to the defense line.

The Ash Knights' drop pods crashed into the heart of the alien horde like scorching anvils. Primitive Space Marines leaped out from within, using the dense barrage of Stormblaster Rifles and the deadly arcs of powered weapons to carve out isolated strongholds amidst the endless waves of aliens, greatly relieving the terrifying pressure on the front lines.

This is a most brutal war of attrition—the Empire's steel, gunpowder, and living beings are fighting against the endless flesh and blood of the Tyranids.

The Astral Army's defenses were like a sandcastle in a storm, constantly on the verge of collapse.

As soon as a breach was torn open in a certain area by an assault, soldiers wielding bayonets howled and engaged in a bloody hand-to-hand battle with the swarming insects. The reserve troops stepped over the remains of their comrades and enemies, using gunfire and explosions to barely seal the breach.

The beach had long been stained a deep purple-black, sticky swamp, with the corpses of Imperial soldiers and Tyrannosaurus Rex piled up on top of each other, trampled into nauseating pulp by treads and heavy boots.

Lehman Rustank's tracks were stained with blood, and the barrels of his multi-laser cannons were glowing red from continuous fire, each salvo evaporating a screeching alien.

Chen Xi stood in the front-line command center, gazing at this hellish scene through the holographic projection that flickered due to the vibration.

His face was as cold and stern as frozen rock, yet his psychic perception was like nerve endings exposed to raging flames—the entire planet's oceans were howling at him, filled with restless ripples of pain, rage, and destruction.

However, that once cold, unified, and suffocating command has indeed been shattered.

This is the typical endgame for a Zerg fleet after losing its node creatures: disorder, madness, but lack of sustainability.

“The time has come.” Chen Xi turned to Company Commander Cassirer and General Glenn beside him, his voice calm but containing an undeniable decisiveness.

"Initiate the final 'Sea Burning' agreement. Conduct saturation orbital bombardment of all areas with residual high concentrations of biosignatures, including deep-sea hydrothermal vent areas. Authorize the use of Cyclone torpedoes to conduct a full-coverage cleanup strike on the sea area from coordinates A-7 to G-9 and adjacent land areas."

The command was transmitted as encrypted radio waves, reaching the fleet in the heavens. Imperial warships adjusted their formation, and the protective covers of their hull-mounted missile silos slid open layer by layer.

This time, it's no longer a precise surgical strike, but a world-destroying fire aimed at completely incinerating all organic residue.

In particular, those terrifying torpedoes, trailing pale white contrails, were like seeds sown by the Grim Reaper, dropping countless devastating submunitions on the vast seas and the wreckage of their land-based nests.

What followed was like the end of the world.

The continuous bursts of light instantly engulfed the entire sky, their intensity even dimming the brilliance of the star "Hissu".

The sea surface deformed violently under unimaginable impact, forming a huge, short-lived vortex, which was then filled by an ultra-high temperature storm formed by the instantaneously evaporated seawater.

The once azure ocean has been transformed into a boiling, turbulent, purplish-black cauldron filled with viscous organic matter and countless debris.

The shockwave, like an invisible giant wall, spread wildly outwards from the epicenter. Even soldiers far inland were thrown about by the shockwave. The scorching air, carrying the scent of ash and death, rushed towards them, burning their exposed skin.

Meanwhile, the Star Guardians' purge operations on the various islands entered their bloodiest final stage.

The soldiers, dressed in heavy, sealed protective suits and wearing gas masks, used flamethrowers and hot guns to conduct a final cleanup of every cave, jungle valley, and corner of the city ruins.

The flames devoured any suspicious organic residue, turning lurking spores and microorganisms to ashes.

The execution squad's explosive guns fired incessantly, ruthlessly and efficiently dealing with those confirmed to be infected or showing signs of mutation, regardless of their previous identities.

During this final cleanup, small-scale resistance and skirmishes continued to occur frequently: while clearing an abandoned refinery, a squad of soldiers was suddenly attacked by dozens of Blade Insects emerging from dark pipes. After a brief and intense firefight, only half of the soldiers survived. Another patrol found a nest of still-wriggling Tyranid eggs on the beach. Before they hatched, the flames from the molten lava guns vitrified them along with the surrounding sand.

As the last aftershocks of the orbital bombardment subsided, the battlefield fell into a deathly silence, almost like a ringing in the ears.

Only the crackling of flames, the muffled thuds of collapsing structures, and the viscous sound of waves weakly washing over the mountains of corpses on the shore reminded people that this was not a vacuum.

The frenzied counterattack of Tyrannosaurus was like a wild beast being choked; after a few twitches, it finally went completely limp.

No new monsters emerged from the sea. The few remaining individuals, having lost the guidance of the collective consciousness, wandered around like headless flies, and were easily eliminated by the soldiers with pinpoint shots.

Exhausted soldiers collapsed behind their wrecked bunkers, staring blankly at the scorched earth that had been completely reshaped. Many could not even immediately grasp the meaning of "victory," feeling only the exhaustion of surviving a catastrophe and a deep-seated weariness.

The price of victory was suffocatingly heavy.

The casualty reports from the Astral Army were shocking; countless company numbers became history forever.

The once picturesque coastline has been completely transformed, with white sand replaced by charred, glassy material and azure waters turned into murky, poisonous waters.

The sky was shrouded in a thick curtain of smoke and dust, and the starlight struggled to penetrate, casting a dim, candle-like halo over the earth.

The stench that lingered in the air was the last trace left after billions of lives were forcibly erased.

(End of this chapter)