Warhammer 40K in a box

Chapter 669 The Price of Victory

On land, the purification efforts are equally ruthless.

The Imperial fleet in orbit adjusted its bombardment mode.

The approach shifted from high-intensity, devastating attacks to low-intensity, prolonged, and comprehensive fire purification.

Light spears and macro cannons relentlessly bombarded key areas on the mainland and islands.

Especially in once lush valleys, jungles, and any corners where Tyren spores might hide.

The relentless high temperatures and intense flames reduced everything to ashes.

The once lush tropical islands have lost all their greenery and turned into scorched ruins.

The lush rainforest was reduced to ashes in the endless sea of ​​fire.

All that remains are countless charred, twisted tree trunks, like desperate arms reaching towards the polluted sky, telling of the vitality that once existed.

On this land that has been utterly destroyed by physical means, the power of the Imperial State Religion has also intervened.

The cardinals presided over a grand and solemn exorcism ceremony.

They stood on a makeshift platform overlooking the scorched earth.

The deep, solemn chanting resounded through the huge loudspeakers, echoing over every ruin.

These scriptures contain the sacred power recognized by the state religion, intended to cleanse the land of deep blasphemy and expel any remaining immaterial impurities.

Although from a physical standpoint, destruction has long been complete, the state religion firmly believes that purification of faith is a necessary step to ultimately ensure the "purity of the soul" of this planet.

Thus, the once beautiful garden world of "Azure Dawn" has become a mere shell of its former self.

Its oceans have become vast, stagnant bodies of water containing deadly toxins.

The complex ecosystem collapsed completely and irreversibly.

Its land was transformed into boundless scorched earth.

The once fertile soil was sintered by high temperatures into a hard, glassy shell.

Its sky is shrouded in a permanent haze of ash, chemical dust, and smog.

The starlight could only barely penetrate this veil, casting a sickly, dim halo over the earth.

From space, this planet has lost its once captivating blue hue.

It turned into a dull, lifeless, scarred gray-brown sphere.

The ecological destruction it has suffered is comprehensive and devastating, with virtually no possibility of natural recovery.

Restoring it to even the bare minimum of a habitable state suitable for human colonization would likely require centuries of Imperial time, immeasurable resources, and the most advanced planetary terraforming technology.

However, for an empire with a vast territory, constant warfare, and perpetually scarce resources, investing such a massive amount of resources in a world that has been deeply "polluted" is nothing short of a fantasy.

Therefore, the more likely future for "Blue Dawn" is to become a strictly isolated restricted area.

It will be marked as a "purifying" or "permanently isolated" world in the Imperial Records.

Perhaps only a small number of Mechanicus exploration teams will be allowed to be stationed here, to study the Tyranite Remains or to collect rare minerals.

Alternatively, a punitive legion composed of criminals might be dispatched to this location.
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Chen Xi walked on the ruins of the island of "Peak of Tranquility".

Beneath our feet lay hardened, scorched earth and debris from building materials; each step kicked up a cloud of fine, gray dust, like ashes.

The once breathtaking infinity pool that seemed to reach the sky is long gone, replaced by a huge crater half-blown open by a violent explosion and filled with murky, rusty sewage.

Strange oil slicks and indistinguishable organic or inorganic debris floated on the water's surface, reflecting a dim glimmer in the pale light. The exotic floral scents and moist sea breeze that once filled the air had been completely erased.

Now, our lungs are filled with the pungent smell of lingering gunpowder smoke, the acrid acidity of chemical purifiers, and the cloying, rotten stench unique to burning organic matter.

These smells stubbornly mingled together, forming the unique and nauseating aftertaste of this "victory."

Olegana stood silently beside him, her figure as upright as a sculpture, a stark contrast to the surrounding desolation.

Her prosthetic eye slowly swept across the devastated landscape at a constant frequency; behind the cold optical lenses, an invisible stream of data poured down silently like a waterfall.

“Globally active Terren biosignals have fallen below background noise levels, which logically confirms that large-scale, organized Terren activity has been eliminated.”

Her voice was steady, without any emotional fluctuation.

"Global screening of the surviving population has reached 98.7% completion rate, and the total number of confirmed infections and suspected cases executed..."

Chen Xi slightly raised one hand, a simple yet powerful gesture, stopping her from continuing to read out the cold, hard number representing the death toll.

He doesn't need specific numbers to quantify the heavy price behind this "victory"; that weight is already pressing on his shoulders and permeating his senses.

His gaze passed over the shocking wounds on the earth and landed on the distant ocean, which was once as blue as a jewel but was now as murky and lifeless as if it had been splashed with endless ink.

The light from the star Xisu attempted in vain to penetrate the thick, oppressive veil of smoke and dust, casting only a few faint, bleak, and distorted rays of light upon this dead world. Instead of bringing life, it only highlighted the desolation of the environment and the bone-deep bleakness.

Not far away, Sergeant Major Titus' Deathwatch squad and Commander Stone's Ash Knights were carrying out the final battlefield cleanup and equipment maintenance.

The Space Marines, like silent giants, moved with precision and efficiency, wiping away the bloodstains, acid corrosion marks, and thick dust that stained their power armor.

They carefully examined the bolt action of the bomb gun, the serrated edge of the chainsaw sword, and assessed the condition of each sacred weapon.

For these emperors' death angels, the battle here has temporarily come to an end, but in the dark depths of the vast galaxy, countless battlefields of equal or even greater peril await them.

Further away, General Glenn was hoarsely directing the remaining forces of the Astronautical Army, working to establish permanent military control zone boundaries, and coordinating the arrival of the subsequent takeover forces to be dispatched by the Department of Military Affairs.

Meanwhile, Captain Cassirer's sharp gaze had already been fixed on the outer reaches of the star system. The "Blade of Repentance" fleet maintained a high state of alert, preventing any possible remnants of the Tyranids from escaping or other hostile forces from taking advantage of the situation.

The fate of this planet is far from over; it has simply transitioned from a violent phase of destruction to a longer, quieter phase shrouded in layers of bureaucratic procedures.

The empire’s vast administrative machine will gradually take over this place, sealing off this desolate world with countless regulations, reports, walls, and surveillance facilities.

As the judge who personally unveiled the prelude to the disaster and led this bloody purification, Chen Xi's detailed report will profoundly influence the Empire's high command's final assessment of the Tyran threat incident, and even shape future strategic decisions to deal with similar infiltrations and invasions.

He stood atop the ruins, his psychic perception acting like the most sophisticated sensor, capturing the subtle yet undeniable sorrow and deathly stillness emanating from the ground beneath his feet.

This place was once his brief haven of inner peace, a brightly colored dream.

Now, this illusion has been completely shattered, leaving only this bloody stage that displays the darkest and cruelest truth of the galaxy.

That brief vacation felt like a lifetime ago, replaced by a heavy sense of responsibility, guilt for the countless lives lost, and a deeper, more ruthless understanding of the fate of the human empire as it struggles to survive in this dark galaxy.

"Let's begin preparing the final report, Allegana."

Chen Xi finally spoke, his voice carrying a hint of weariness that was almost perfectly concealed, but more than that, it was a cold and resolute determination forged through the crucible of blood and fire.

“We need to make sure that the High Lords of Holy Terra, and the highest levels of the Inquisition, clearly understand everything that happened here—every crucial detail, every life-or-death decision, and… the full price we ultimately paid.”

He paused slightly, his gaze once again falling on the still, lifeless ocean, as if he wanted to etch this final scene deep into the depths of his memory.

"As for the planet itself..."

His voice lowered, carrying an almost prophetic calm.

"Its dawn may not truly arrive again for another thousand years, or even in the more distant future."

(End of this chapter)