Warhammer 40K in a box

Chapter 714 The Battle of Kamas 11
The brief respite brought by the temporary rest was fleeting.

Under Leona's orders, the hybrid assault force once again left the relatively safe factory ruins, like caged beasts breaking free of their shackles, and continued their advance into the pulsating evil core deep within Hera City.

The demons' resistance remained fierce, but as they gradually moved away from the open outer areas and into the city's intricate streets, the nature of the battle changed.

Narrow streets, towering high-rise building ruins, and underground pipe networks make it difficult for large-scale demonic waves to fully unfold, but they also provide opportunities for small groups of elite enemies to ambush and launch surprise attacks.

Leona adjusted her tactics, further breaking down the Blood Angel veterans into smaller combat teams, providing alternating cover and clearing each building that might be hiding enemies, floor by floor. The advance was slow but more secure, aiming to minimize threats from the rear.

During a cleanup operation of an industrial complex located on the side of a main road connecting the city center, the Vanguard's Holy Blood Angels team encountered exceptionally fierce resistance.

In addition to targeted firepower, the building's interior was also filled with crude yet malicious traps and blasphemous symbols. Intense firefights and close combat echoed through the labyrinthine factory buildings and conveyor belts.

“Something’s not right,” Tycho said in the communications, his squad having just blasted open a welded-on reinforced gate with a hot press. “Their defense is layered, unlike those bloodletters who just charge.”

There's something here worth protecting like this, or... they're stalling for time to prevent us from discovering anything.

Leona personally led a squad of elite Blood Angels into the core area of ​​the building. After clearing out the last remaining cultists led by Chaos Space Marines, they discovered a shocking sight in a vast underground space that had once been a raw materials warehouse.

The warehouse had been roughly modified, and the surrounding walls were covered with chaotic runes that were still faintly glowing, forming a repressive psionic confinement field.

The center of the venue was packed with people.

They were ragged, with withered faces, and their eyes were filled with fear and numbness; their numbers numbered in the thousands.

Most of them were civilians from Hera City who failed to escape in time when the city fell and were driven here and imprisoned by the Thousand-Eyed Warriors.

The air was thick with despair, and a faint trace of subspace filth.

Some people have already developed unnatural red patches or minor, involuntary twitches on their skin, which are early symptoms of exposure to highly polluted environments.

“The Emperor…” a young recruit of the Holy Blood Angels couldn’t help but whisper, his voice behind the mask filled with shock and pity.

Clearly, the Thousand-Eyed War Gang views these civilians as "reserve resources," either for larger-scale sacrifices later or to be released at a specific time to create greater chaos and pollution.

The task of guarding this place was therefore assigned to the disciplined Chaos Space Marines and cultists, rather than the completely uncommunicative demons.

"Clear all chaotic symbols and release the psionic restraints," Leona ordered, her voice echoing through the empty warehouse, breaking the deathly silence. "Contact headquarters; we need to evacuate these civilians."

The soldiers moved swiftly, using flamethrowers and power weapons to destroy the runes on the wall.

As the runes dimmed, the suffocating sense of oppression lessened slightly.

The civilians seemed to realize what had happened, and a slight commotion began to rise in the crowd. Some of the bolder ones raised their eyes and looked at the massive figures clad in crimson and dark green power armor, a faint glimmer of hope rekindling in their eyes.

As Leona looked at the survivors, she could sense the lingering shadows in their souls, faint yet real marks left by chaos.

She didn't speak, but simply signaled to the soldiers to remain on guard and wait for backup.
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The message was quickly relayed back to the rear command post.

Upon hearing the news, Chen Xi immediately mobilized the remaining non-critical transport vehicles and a team of local PDF remnants to escort them along the passage that the assault troops had painstakingly cleared, which had not yet been completely resealed.

The relocation was fraught with hardship. The civilians were physically weak, mentally on the verge of collapse, and moved slowly. Small groups of demons or Chaos cultists would occasionally launch attacks from hiding places, attempting to reclaim their "property" or simply to commit slaughter. The warriors of the Blood Angels and the Crimson Crescent had to divert their precious forces to form a mobile defensive line in front of and behind the transport convoy, fighting and retreating.

Only when the last batch of civilians were crammed into crowded transport vehicles and escorted by the guards began to leave the front lines and return towards the relatively safe fortresses were Leona and her warriors able to continue their advance toward the center of Hera.

The rescue operation lasted several hours and resulted in the deaths and injuries of more than a dozen Astartes warriors, but they successfully pulled thousands of lives back from the brink of disaster.

However, what the soldiers on the front lines saw as a symbol of hope and salvation was, for Chen Xi, the judge in charge of receiving the transfer, a cold and cruel choice.

When the transport convoy arrived at the temporary quarantine zone set up outside the fortress, Chen Xi was already waiting there.

He stared blankly at the survivors who were trembling as they stepped off the vehicle, their eyes vacant. They were covered in filth, many were wounded, muttering words no one could understand, or staring blankly at the blood-red sky.

The accompanying medical officer and technical priest immediately stepped forward to conduct preliminary scans and tests.

The results were quickly presented to Chen Xi. The data was cold and conclusive: more than 80% of the survivors showed varying degrees of psionic pollution levels exceeding the standard, extremely unstable mental waveforms, and obvious collective PTSD symptoms.

More seriously, the scans recorded several cases of unidentified subspace microparasites in the body, as well as cases of multiple people unconsciously repeating blasphemous syllables.

Any trained Imperial Inquisition officer could decipher the meaning behind these data—deep chaos exposure, high probability of being a contaminant carrier.

A young tech priest looked up at Chen Xi, his prosthetic eye flashing red: "Your Honor, contamination level: Gamma level. Based on Chapter 32 of Volume 1 of 'Critique of Heresy' and the standard procedures of the 'Purification Protocol,' it is recommended... complete purification."

Chen Xi closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

The air was filled with the smell of gunpowder, blood, and a faint stench of decay and madness emanating from the survivors.

The sacrifices Leona and the warriors made for this flashed through his mind, as did the ordinary lives these civilians might have had in another time and space. A genuine sense of pity and compassion stirred within him.

But he immediately opened his eyes, and that softness had vanished, replaced by the coldness and decisiveness unique to judges, a coldness that freezes the soul.

He understood the horror of chaotic pollution better than anyone else.

An unpurified thought, a whispered note, or a blasphemous image hidden in the corner of memory can, under the right conditions, spread and ferment like a plague among people, eventually triggering a chain reaction that causes the entire planet's defenses to collapse from within, repeating the tragedy of Hera City.

Given the intense nature of the war, and the complete lack of resources and time for large-scale, meticulous screening and forced indoctrination, the risks are unacceptable.

The empire's survival rested on countless such "necessary sacrifices." Better to kill the innocent than let the guilty go free. This was a cruel survival rule, bought with countless lives during a dark millennium.

His voice wasn't loud, but it carried clearly throughout the entire quarantine zone, reaching the ears of every officer, priest, and combat nun in charge, carrying an undeniable final verdict:
"Based on the authorization of the Tribunal and the Imperial wartime decree, it has been confirmed that these survivors have suffered irreversible chaotic contamination, posing a threat to extremist organisms and psionic energy. To safeguard the overall security of the Kamath front and the interests of the Empire, I order... the final purification to be carried out."

The order was given, and all was silent. Only the survivors seemed to sense something was amiss, and began to stir and sob uneasily.

Then, the laser gun array was raised and the bomb gun was loaded.

The firelight flickered briefly and intensely within the quarantine zone, accompanied by sounds that were short-lived but heartbreaking enough.

(End of this chapter)