On the surface of Planet Tooth Fracture Three, in the heart of Iron Jaw Canyon.
Each scorching breath was like swallowing scalding grit, tearing at Mikhail's throat.
The air was a hellish mixture—dust, gunpowder smoke, the nauseating stench of Orks, and a thick, almost palpable smell of blood, so dense it could almost be wrung out.
Mikhail felt the ground beneath his mag-boots, the wreckage of the Emperor's fury colliding with Ork savagery: craters like open wounds on the earth, intermingled with rubble, twisted metal fragments, and fluorescent green, viscous pools of blood.
Shredded Astra Militarum uniforms and fragments of crude Ork armor dotted the death-laden landscape.
The towering crimson rock walls on either side of the canyon, illuminated by explosions, cast enormous, distorted shadows, like the ribs of ancient beasts.
Deafening noise was the sole tyrant here: the insane "WAAAGH!" roars of the Orks, like a physical sledgehammer, repeatedly pounded his eardrums and helmet; the sharp shrieks of Bolters, the low, bloodthirsty hum of Chainsword, the sizzling hiss of laser weapons evaporating energy, all wove into a symphony of death.
In the distance, the dull roar of heavy artillery was the painful heartbeat of the earth; higher up, thick smoke clouds were repeatedly torn by dazzling energy beams—those were the Macro Cannons or Lance Batteries of orbital warships, mercilessly suppressing this hellish zone.
The thunderous rumble of engines overhead was a familiar sound of salvation—the Ash Knights' Thunderhawk Gunship fleet, circling high above, weaving a blanket of deadly fire, Mikhail could feel the reassuring shadows they cast.
"Team A! Reform into a wedge assault formation! Objective: Delta-7 Core Bunker Complex! Bolter volley ready! Advance!" Sergeant Vasily's command, like a cold steel needle, pierced through the chaos, clear and precise.
Mikhail's tactical interface on his helmet's optical display instantly refreshed, blue dots rapidly converging.
He and nine brothers, led by Vasily, crushed ground debris with their heavy mag-boots, their ten MK10 Power Armor shoulder plates pressing together, forming an indestructible steel wedge pointing deep into the canyon.
Mikhail could feel the vibration of his brothers' armor beside him, sensing the synchronized determination to advance.
"Fire!" Vasily's low growl was the signal to detonate.
Ten Bolters, like the fangs of a living behemoth, simultaneously spat out destructive tongues of fire!
Dense Bolt rounds tore through the air, converging into a storm of steel, slamming into the Orks stubbornly resisting ahead, entrenched behind scrap piles, rocks, and natural caves!
The explosive flashes instantly merged into a churning, roaring wall of fire!
The Orks' crude fortifications shattered and exploded like paper under the concentrated firepower of the Astartes!
The hiding greenskins were torn apart and flung into the air by the furious shockwaves and high-velocity shrapnel, their internal organs and shattered bones splattering!
This precise volley ripped open a burning, death-filled passage of flesh and metal debris in the Ork defense line!
"Forward! For the Emperor! Ashes Eternal!" Vasily raised his activated Power Sword, its ethereal blue dismembering field emitting a high-frequency, chilling hum of death, and was the first to step into the passage carved by fire.
Mikhail kept tight to the right flank of the wedge's vanguard, his Chainsword humming, ready, like a hungry beast.
On his tactical display, the blue markers representing friendly forces continuously streamed into the breach they had torn in the defense line, like a breaking dam.
From the towering "Eagle's Nest Rock" high ground on the left flank, the Fourth Company's heavy bolter teams and missile launchers roared ceaselessly, their concentrated explosions precisely landing among the green tide attempting to flank them from the side tunnels, each explosion raising a wave of green.
A stormclaw assault boat, with a piercing shriek, skimmed low, almost grazing their helmets, its wing-mounted twin-linked bolters and rocket pods unleashing a devastating torrent of projectiles onto the Ork reserve assembly area below, instantly creating a burning vacuum.
Mikhail could clearly feel the side-mounted gun of the Thunderhawk Gunship overhead shifting its fire in sync, its scorching ammunition belt, like a flaming whip wielded by a god, precisely sweeping the outer perimeter of the stormclaw's strike zone, sealing off the Orks' escape routes.
At the canyon entrance, several Impulsor armored personnel carriers steadily advanced like mobile steel fortresses, their heavy armor shrugging off sporadic fire, while their mounted heavy bolter arrays provided solid and continuous mobile fire support for the following Astra Militarum infantry, blue laser beams and Bolt rounds weaving a protective net around the Impulsors.
Further out on the open flank, Storm Speeder Thunderstrike gunships belonging to the Ash Knights' support company darted like enraged metal hornets, their multi-melta guns and heavy bolters firing fiercely, instantly vaporizing or shredding any Ork vehicles or small groups of enemies attempting to outflank them, their highly mobile firepower sweeping the edges of the battlefield.
"Team B reporting! Flank secured! Green tide effectively suppressed!" Sergeant Ivanov's voice came through the comms channel, with the dull, reassuring roar of heavy bolters in the background.
"Received! Team A! Maintain wedge formation! Full speed ahead! Crush them!" Vasily's response was decisive.
The Bolters continued their deadly shriek, and their heavy footsteps never faltered.
They were like a adamantium ram, superheated by the Emperor's will, deeply wedging into the heart of the Ork defense line.
Massed volleys were their language, each one precisely striking at the weak points of the Ork defenses.
Bunkers disintegrated, and exposed Shoota nests or 'Rokkit Boyz' carrying rockets were quickly reduced to parts and gore by the precise point-blank fire of the wedge formation.
The few Ork Nobz who charged forward with brute force were instantly shredded by the Chainsword and Power Weapons, poised like venomous snakes within the wedge formation.
Mikhail swung his Chainsword with precise and efficient movements, utilizing the perfect gaps in his brothers' suppressive fire to eliminate close-quarters enemies, the high-speed rotating teeth easily tearing through the Orks' crude armor and tough muscles, raising plumes of green blood mist; his peripheral vision, like a radar, constantly scanned the flanks, his Bolter occasionally firing precise shots, timely supporting brothers whose positions were slightly exposed.
He could clearly perceive from the shared information stream of the tactical link that the Storm Speeder Thunderstrike gunships on the flank had also turned their guns, joining the fire blockade on the remaining tunnel exits, and the air-ground coordinated noose was tightening.
However, just as they approached the deepest part of the canyon, the crimson marker for the Delta-7 core area on his tactical display suddenly flashed wildly!
A piercing alarm blared almost simultaneously inside his helmet!
The interface was instantly overwhelmed by even denser, more dazzling red threat indicators!
Countless new signal sources, like magma erupting from underground, surged frantically from the subterranean network of crisscrossing tunnels and the depths of the ruins!
The Orks' last and most ferocious strength had been completely unleashed!
The intensity of the WAAAGH! energy field instantly surged to its peak, the primal roar of war almost materializing, the air vibrating violently with the sound waves, Mikhail's Power Armor sensors emitted a series of sharp overload humming alerts, and his optical display even experienced temporary interference ripples.
A violent impact wave, carrying a barbaric stench, washed over him.
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