937.M30.
Aboard the fleet of the World Eaters, orders were issued.
A countdown, prominent and loathed by every World Eater, began on every command console across the 12th Legion: thirty-one hours.
Ever since their gene-father, Angron, had returned, the number thirty-one had become a numeral of death.
Their gene-father had decreed the standard hours corresponding to his homeworld's day as a strict metric: the conquest of every world must be completed within thirty-one hours.
Even for an Astartes, conquering a world in thirty-one hours was an extremely tight schedule.
Aboard the Hound's Tooth, Mago, Centurion and Captain of the 18th Company, strode across the hangar deck. The Indomitable Ones had already assembled.
Even before the World Eaters had been known as the War Hounds, the warriors of the 18th Company were called the Indomitable Ones by those within the legion.
Since their founding, even in the fiercest of battles, the warriors of the 18th Company had never broken.
Forged in blood and fire, the company's warriors had weathered crisis after crisis.
Mago strode before the three squads formed of elite veterans and roared.
"Ghenna once swore fealty to the Imperium of Man."
Ghenna's Imperial designation was 93-15.
"But it has chosen to betray that oath again, no different from any world that refuses to submit."
The moment news of Ghenna's betrayal arrived, Chief Apothecary Gahlan Surlak had urged their gene-father, Angron, to respond immediately.
He had consulted the planetary log archives and discovered that the bionic technology of the Ghennans could help him complete his research on the Butcher's Nails.
Angron had immediately issued the order to set course and crush the rebellion.
Captain Kharn, the high-ranking commander who best understood their gene-father Angron, had briefed them: "This is our chance."
"Once the Butcher's Nails are implanted, the gene-father's attitude towards us will change dramatically."
"We will be seen as brother gladiators fighting alongside him."
Mago couldn't be sure if Kharn's words would prove true, but having accepted the mission, he would throw himself into it completely.
"You know we have no time to waste. Move swiftly."
"Trust in your brother's shield as you trust yourselves. Fight as one, and no enemy can survive before us."
"We go to battle. Break or be broken. For Angron and the Emperor!"
His Indomitable Ones roared in response. The sergeants, whose rank was standardized by the Corps Logisticae, led their respective squads into action.
The company split into squads, moving quickly towards their designated drop pods and Stormbirds. The air hummed with the heat of engines starting up.
The World Eaters locked themselves into drop pods sealed like clenched fists. Hydraulic clamps secured them.
Mago bumped shoulders with Orenthes at the foot of his Stormbird. His Honour Guard formed up, securing themselves inside the gunship's hold.
"We will succeed," Warmaster Orenthes said firmly. "This time, on this world, we can do it."
Mago secured his helmet. A dark green light flickered before his eyes.
"Brother, for the Legion."
Since their gene-father, Angron, had been discovered on Nuceria, this was the first battle fought without the Primarch present.
Angron rarely attended the Legion's war councils. He was indifferent. And when he did attend, aside from a few cold, mocking words, he seldom contributed.
But ever since Kharn had retrieved their gene-father, Angron had never missed a battle.
And even when Angron was absent, the World Eaters could feel his gaze upon them.
The shadow of their father loomed over every World Eater in the battle. Their hearts raced in time with that damnable countdown.
Mago glanced at his helmet display. Fortunately, Ghenna's surface lacked any anti-aircraft weapon arrays.
With the countdown reading twenty-six hours, the 18th Company emerged from their drop pods as the Stormbirds descended.
At the same moment, on Ghenna's moon.
Bathed in the light of a full moon, Gahlan Surlak sat before a collection of moon-phase metals and gemstones: Lunar metal, yellow crescent-shaped gems, purple full-moon gemstones, Vostroyan moonstone...
The "Potions Professor" opened a dozen crystal vials before him.
The smell of blood filled the air; among them, the Omega blood was the sweetest.
Gahlan brought his pale hands together, inverted them, and gave a silent prayer.
"Thanks be to my Lord."
Releasing his hands, he took the nearly solidified crimson potion from his belt, tilted his head back, and drank it.
Moments later, elevated to "Scarlet Scholar," Gahlan drew an even-numbered ritual dagger made of black gold from his belt, erected a spiritual wall, and knelt on the ground, praying to the Black Emperor.
As black mist billowed, the moon-phase metals and gemstones were cast into an unseen, ethereal gate.
From deep within the black mist, the Black Emperor seated upon his throne spoke with "Majesty."
"The submission of Ghenna cannot be completed within thirty-one hours."
"Mago's 18th Company will be ordered to undergo decimation. He will disobey. Vorias will also lead the Librarians to resist Angron."
"You must warn Vorias to use anesthetic agents to render Angron unconscious until the Butcher's Nails are implanted."
Gahlan was startled by the Black Emperor's revelation: there would be a mutiny in the Legion.
He had no doubt that Chief Librarian Vorias would act against their gene-father Angron as the Black Emperor foretold, however improbable it seemed.
The Black Emperor had prophesied the events on Nuceria. Before their gene-father Angron had even tasked him with developing Butcher's Nails suitable for the World Eaters, He had foreseen it. He had also revealed the Ghennans' bionics to him.
Gahlan was also confident he could complete the development quickly. With the aid of the mysterious figure under the Black Emperor's command, who constantly communicated with him, the research on the Butcher's Nails was nearly complete. Only the Ghennans' technology was missing.
What he didn't understand was why the Black Emperor wanted to save Mago.
Mago was not among those he had previously identified as candidates for "enlightenment."
"Regardless of the reason, since my Lord commands me to aid Mago, I shall enlighten him."
The moment Suran returned to the Conqueror, the 12th Legion's countdown jumped to nineteen hours.
On the surface of Ghenna, beneath the gates of Marco.
Mago shattered the enemy before him with his short-handled chainaxe. Gasping for a moment's respite, he assessed the progress of the other companies.
Runes representing the other companies flickered erratically on his display. The Ghennans resisted fiercely. The progress of the other companies was no swifter than that of his Indomitable Ones.
Mago opened a comm channel, hailing the captain of the Hound's Tooth.
"Captain Youtar, I need your ground support fire. I will provide target coordinates for you."
Youtar's image on the display wavered. He did not answer immediately.
After a brief exchange with someone off-screen, he replied.
"Captain, given the current ground situation, I cannot guarantee our fire won't hit our own men."
"After Brugio, we..."
The comm link was disrupted, but Mago already knew what his captain was alluding to.
During the Brugio campaign three months prior, an orbital strike from the fleet had disobeyed their gene-father's command.
Because the bombardment was unexpected, one of the companies fighting alongside Angron had been hit by friendly fire.
As soon as the battle ended, the gene-father had executed the captain who ordered the strike.
'We can only rely on ourselves,' Mago thought with dismay.
He surveyed the battlefield. Like the other companies, his had abandoned phalanx advances, charging the Ghennans in a disorganized mob.
They had cut deep into the Ghennan lines, but were soon scattered among the enemy, without cohesion.
'My company, like all the others, is starting to lose order.'
'If Legion Master Lok were still here, he would surely flog every company commander, perhaps even reduce us to line troopers.'
'Is this Angron's way of war?' Mago thought with anguish.
'No thought, no discipline.'
'You are less a man of flesh and blood than an embodiment of mindless slaughter. All restraint and calm have been annihilated by those damnable Butcher's Nails.'
'Look at the way you fight. It's costing the lives of every World Eater.'
Mago couldn't help but think of the Reapers, once as brutal as they were.
'After Lord Nareth returned, the Reapers were reforged. Their keen perception was redirected from relishing slaughter to seeking the enemy's weaknesses.'
'The Shadows of Order are lucky, to have a gene-father like Lord Nareth.'
'And us...?'
"This is madness," Hanno, a member of the Honour Guard, voiced Mago's thoughts.
Shield lost, he cut down anything that came near with his Phalax blade.
"We should withdraw and order the fleet to burn this world to ash from orbit."
"No!" Mago blew a Ghennan's head open with his bolt pistol, then quickly holstered it and raised his chainaxe again.
Amidst the roar, he cleaved eight men into twenty-five pieces.
"He won't accept that. You know he won't."
"Then do you think he'll accept the outcome as it stands?" asked Warmaster Orenthes, echoing the thought of every man in the company.
Before Mago could answer, discordant horns blared from the right, the standardized signal.
The call, miming the gladiatorial horns, signified a request for aid.
That company had no senior officers left alive.
"It's the 44th Company. They pushed too far forward. They're surrounded," announced Standard Bearer Astakos, raising his banner high.
"All the other companies are engaged. No one can support them."
"If we do nothing, they will be annihilated."
The 44th Company had suffered heavy casualties. Balkaba's company should have been acting as rearguard support behind the 18th.
But he had blindly thrown his World Eaters into the fray to meet the thirty-one-hour deadline.
They were taking massive losses. If the 18th Company didn't rescue them, their brother unit would be overwhelmed by the enemy.
"Mago, the gate is within our grasp. We have a chance to take the city," Warmaster Orenthes called out.
"If we go to their aid, we'll lose the opportunity to assault the gate."
Lightning flashed past Mago, scorching a dozen Ghennans. Librarian Teth shouted, "You must decide now! Either we aid the 44th Company, or we advance!"
"We cannot abandon them," Mago declared.
"We cannot achieve victory by leaving our own behind."
"I will not stand idly by, not when we can help them. We cannot abandon our battle-brothers."
"But it is the Father's command," Orenthes reminded.
Mago snapped. "To hell with Angron and his countdown!"
"Long before he came back, the 44th Company were our brothers as War Hounds."
"Wedge formation!" Mago roared.
....
A piercing chime rang inside his helmet, echoing through the World Eaters' minds like a meteor.
The timer hit zero. Iridescent light flashed a bloody crimson on his helmet display, a more brutal blow than any Ghennan weapon.
A terrible thought filled every head: they had failed.
Mago gritted his teeth until blood dripped down his chin.
A Ghennan prostrate at his feet looked up, its disfigured face silently mocking him.
He lunged at the Ghennan like a mad dog, raising his fist and slamming it down again and again.
The Ghennan's head was crushed. Blood soaked Mago's visor.
"It's over, Captain." Standard Bearer Astakos shouted, grabbing Mago's pauldron and pulling him up.
Mago looked towards the gates of Marco, the Ghennan capital. They had cleared a path. Victory was within reach.
He took a deep breath, scooped up a handful of Ghennan soil with effort, and placed it in a pouch.
As he rose, he fastened the pouch to his belt. "Rally the company. We will move as one."
In silence, the company members pulled each other back from the brink of slaughter, carrying those who could not walk.
The World Eaters broke off their attack. The Ghennans watched them leave, calm but bewildered.
The World Eaters marched back to their respective company assembly points, forming up to board their Stormbirds and landing craft.
Mago's Stormbird gained altitude, climbing into low orbit, heading for the Conqueror.
Angron's shadow, now transformed into a crimson glow, pulsed ahead.
....
If you enjoy the story, my p@treon is 30 chapters ahead.
[email protected]/DaoistJinzu