In the core of the Gabbro's bridge, the deep blue holographic star chart silently rotated, its cold gleam outlining the blood and fire Veins of Iron Jaw Canyon.
A projection of Tooth Fracture III hovered within a large depression on the bridge.
The silver-grey markers representing the Ash Knights' Third Neophyte Company were clearly visible on the star chart, stubbornly wedging into the outer perimeter of the Ork's core stronghold, Delta-7, along the assault axis "Anvil Road."
On the flanking high ground, Eagles Nest Rock, the Fourth Company's blue markers formed a firing position, with the light blue arcs indicating their stable suppression fire.
Outside the landing zone, the sand-yellow defensive line markers of the Rostov 17th Regiment Astra Militarum flickered like candles in the wind, repeatedly assailed by the constantly emerging, crude red markers representing the Ork tide.
The cold glow of the star chart illuminated Alex's serene profile and fell upon Hathor Lupeca's rigid, arms-crossed figure.
Inside the bridge, the low, constant hum of the circulation system intertwined with the metallic scent of promethium fuel.
In the encrypted communication channel, the rigid, precise tactical reports from the mortal crew intermittently sounded.
Alex's fingertips silently glided across the control panel, and a data stream cascaded down.
The adjacent screen instantly displayed real-time battlefield footage: the Third Company's assault squad, in a wedge formation, pressed against the Ork defenses along "Anvil Road," their Bolter's precise short bursts continuously suppressing firing points behind cover, with the overall advance rhythm conforming to tactical expectations.
"The offensive axis is advancing steadily," Alex's voice calmly stated, "Ventanus's'stair-step' coordination is effective, and casualties are controllable."
His gaze quickly swept across the data stream, catching a minor delay in the tactical confirmation action within the overall coordination chain after a covered advance.
"Rhythm?" Hathor's voice was as sharp as colliding adamantium, her molten-gold pupils reflecting the bursting fire on the star chart: "Orders are executed flawlessly, but look here—"
She pointed her finger, and the holographic image instantly zoomed in: two Third Company neophytes, after completing their staggered advance, simultaneously paused, bending down to inspect the ruins of a destroyed cover.
"The 'Area Clear Confirmation' procedure was completed," Hathor pointed out, her voice carrying a cold scrutiny: "The battlefield will not pause for it."
The screen seamlessly switched to a temporary Ork firing point on the flank: a burly greenskin was crudely stuffing a rocket into a launcher, but was immediately shot in the head by a Bolt round fired by a veteran.
"Had it not been for the veteran in the rear fire team, who, relying on their battle-hardened instincts, opened fire half a second earlier to suppress," Hathor's voice was as sharp as a blade, "those two wildly fired rockets would have landed in the gap between the squad's cohesion.
A Primaris body is an advantage, but not everything; the battlefield perception of veterans who truly emerged from the blood and fire of the Legion era is like an invisible net. They… are still new blood; the gaps in their coordination still need to be mended by the experience of veterans."
Alex silently pulled up the real-time report, which indicated three minor injuries and no fatalities.
His fingertips hovered for half a second over the flickering data stream, his gaze quickly flitting between the cold casualty figures and the battlefield gaps Hathor had pointed out.
Hathor's gaze, like a tangible probe, precisely pierced the virtual projection of the codex astartes in the corner of the star chart.
"As for that pamphlet by Guilliman, elevated to a divine status?" Her voice was as solid as ten-thousand-year-old cold iron: "I understand Roboute Guilliman's original intention; in the darkest hour of M32, with order crumbling and the Legions disbanded, it was a necessary guide, providing a framework and guidelines for scattered sparks… but only that."
A complex glimmer, unique to Gene-Seed Primarchs, flashed in her molten-gold pupils.
"But look now! Ten thousand years! Ten millennia steeped in blood and fire, betrayal and sacrifice! The veil of the galaxy has been torn, and demons nest on the wreckage of reality… And what is Holy Terra's response?" Her lips curled into a cold, emotionless arc: "They have elevated this tactical reference book into an unquestionable, sacred iron law! Every punctuation mark has become a shackle, every page a prison that confines thought!
When Warp tides distort communications, when the enemy tramples physical laws with blasphemous power, when the Imperium, a giant, riddled with holes, desperately needs the sharpest blade to cleave a path to survival in the storm of destruction—
Those parasites deep within the Terra towers are still bickering and backstabbing over 'company organization' and 'paint scheme regulations'—dead bureaucracies established by Roboute back then for efficient management and identification!"
Hathor turned to Alex, her molten-gold eyes churning with a profound gravity and barely suppressed fury, like an abyss: "They are suffocating the wisdom of the living with the cold corpse of the Holy Codex, twisting a tool for salvation into an instrument of torture that imprisons souls!
This is the most fatal tumor in the Imperium's body… a complete betrayal of the Primarch's wisdom, irrefutable proof of the Imperium's decay, ossification, and self-destruction!"
The bridge fell into a deathly silence. Even the hum of the circulation system seemed frozen by that cold fury.
Alex met Hathor's burning gaze; he could feel the suppressed rage in her eyes.
"The chronic ailments of the Terra towers cannot be cured by anger, Hathor. The Imperium's accumulated problems over ten millennia are not something you and I can shake at this moment." His gaze shifted to the core of the star chart, calming Hathor's emotions while also pointing out the problem they currently faced: "But on this Tooth Fracture planet, what we can decide is whether the new blood can survive the next wave of impact.
Delta-7's counterattack is imminent; that is where all your anger is needed."
Hathor's molten-gold pupils suddenly locked onto Delta-7's pulsating crimson core.
Her chest heaved abruptly, and a suppressed, heavy gasp was clearly audible in the silent bridge.
The surging torrent of rage seemed to be confined; Hathor controlled her emotions, quickly regaining her composure and casting her gaze onto the star chart.
The Third Company's marker cluster had already penetrated deep into the canyon along "Anvil Road"; the Fourth Company's fire suppression zone extended steadily from Eagles Nest Rock.
However, the crimson blotch representing the Ork core stronghold, Delta-7, was pulsating violently.
More dense red threat markers were continuously emerging, forming a foul tide of blood, fiercely impacting the outer defense line, each impact causing the sand-yellow marker clusters to flicker erratically.
"The planned assault axis has breached the outer defenses, and the Eagles Nest Rock firing position is stable," Alex's voice was steady and taut, his fingertips gliding across the panel to display a dazzling deep red heat map of Ork forces: "Current phase combat objective achieved."
His gaze pierced through the star chart into the depths of the canyon, into the continuously thickening deep red area symbolizing Ork reserves and core strength: "The true pressure test is about to begin; when the greenskins realize their core stronghold is threatened, they will counterattack recklessly. The warriors need to be prepared."
Hathor nodded slightly, her molten-gold eyes fixed intently on Delta-7: "A cornered beast's counterattack is the most lethal! Let the new blood remember the order of this moment—the next phase will be a pure, chaotic assault that tears apart all established tactics; that will be the true crucible for testing their resilience in coordinated combat."
The bridge fell into a brief silence.
Only the low hum of the circulation, the ticking of data, and the dense, restless crimson pulsations on the star chart were like the dull heartbeat before a storm.
The tempering of the Broken Tooth Star System entered a higher intensity phase.
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