If other Astartes Chapters are a slowly advancing, indestructible wall of iron, then the Flesh Tearers are a blood-stained dagger, willing to snap its own blade just to pierce the enemy.
While the Ultramarines were still coordinating squad fire patterns and the Imperial Fists were cautiously scanning their flanks for threats, the Flesh Tearers had completely abandoned "tactical synergy."
With the thunderous roar of hundreds of jump pack engines igniting simultaneously, these Astartes in crimson power armor streaked across the sky like rubied meteors cutting through the dark. They bypassed the Death Korps of Krieg struggling on the ground and even left the newly respawned, screaming Helldiver players far in their wake.
They rode alone—no cover provided, no cover needed—slamming with brutal force into the interior of the Silent Court's pyramid.
But the price of such recklessness was agonizing.
As the first wave of intruders, the Flesh Tearers bore the full brunt of the pyramid's most violent defensive salvos. Baleful green Gauss beams poured over them like rain. Ceramite armor proved as fragile as paper under the molecular-disruption rays; many Flesh Tearer warriors were stripped into clouds of atomic dust before they even hit the ground.
Yet, this could not halt the most violent sons of Sanguinius.
"For Sanguinius! For the Emperor! KILL!!"
Gabriel Seth, Chapter Master of the Flesh Tearers, slammed onto the blackstone floor with a thunderous impact. His landing shattered the surrounding ground, the shockwave tumbling several Scarabs that attempted to swarm him.
He didn't pause for a second. The colossal two-handed chainsword in his grip let out a hungry roar.
Hovering before him was a terrifying Necron Destroyer. Its lower body had been replaced by an anti-gravity hovering chassis, its right arm traded for a massive Heavy Gauss Cannon. Its lifeless metal skull-face was covered by a specialized monocular targeting array flickering with green light.
Zzt—
The Destroyer's reflexes were lightning-fast. The Gauss Cannon charged instantly, firing a thick green beam straight at Seth's face.
Seth didn't dodge. He wrenched his body sideways, catching the glancing blow with his thick shoulder pauldron. The blood-drop insignia on the pauldron vaporized instantly, scorching the flesh beneath, but the agony acted like fuel, igniting the rage surging through his veins.
"DIE!"
Seth bellowed. Using the final thrust of his jump pack, he transformed into a red whirlwind, crashing into the Destroyer's embrace.
His giant chainsword, carrying enough kinetic energy to tear through a tank, hacked savagely into the living metal body.
Against ordinary strikes, these xenos possessed self-repair protocols and would quickly reassemble. Seth knew this well, so he did not stop.
Once, twice, ten times!
This wasn't a duel; it was a sadistic disassembly. Like a madman, Seth swung the massive chainsword, hacking the Destroyer from shoulder to waist, then mincing the remains into fragments.
Sparks flew; metal shrieked.
Only when the Destroyer had been reduced to dozens of varying scraps of junk—its core processor ground to dust by the chainsword's teeth, rendering repair impossible in the short term—did Seth halt.
He panted heavily and whipped his head around.
Behind him, his surviving brothers were engaged in similar slaughter. They had abandoned ranged firefights, using power axes, chainswords, and power fists to smash every Necron unit in sight into splinters, stripping them of their mobility.
Heavy footsteps echoed as the ground vibrated slightly.
Veteran Apollus, clad in massive Terminator armor, strode forward. He shook the severed head of a Necron Warrior from his lightning claws, the blue power field crackling at the tips.
"Our casualties are heavy, Brother Seth," Apollus's voice came through his thick helm, muffled and grave. "The enemy's Gauss weaponry is too potent; even Terminator plate cannot fully withstand a direct hit from those disruption rays. My squad just lost two brothers."
Seth didn't look back at him. His gaze was locked onto the darkness deeper within the pyramid, where more green lights were flickering to life.
He flicked metal fragments from his chainsword and said coldly, "Then we must be faster. We cannot fight a war of attrition with them."
"Only by charging fast enough to take their Lord's head before they wipe us out can we survive."
Seth restarted his chainsword's motor, the roar filling the hall once more.
"Follow me, Apollus. Let those Chapters still crawling behind us see what real war looks like."
Seth kicked open the final blackstone gate, which was etched with complex patterns. The heavy metal doors slid aside amidst the groan of hydraulic systems.
What lay before the Flesh Tearers was a space so vast it was suffocating.
The ceiling soared so high it seemed to lead into an abyss of another dimension. Countless black obelisks floated in mid-air, rotating slowly according to geometric laws incomprehensible to mortals. The floor was polished like a mirror, reflecting the eerie star maps above, creating a disorienting illusion of walking through the void. This sense of immense, icy silence was enough to shatter any mortal's sanity.
The moment the Flesh Tearers stepped into this core region, the dark space suddenly ignited.
Hum— A blinding green luminescence filled their vision. Then, accompanied by the rhythmic thud of metal footsteps, hundreds of heavily armored, towering figures emerged from behind the pillars, surrounding the Astartes vanguard.
These were the elite of the Necrons—the Lychguard.
The hyperphase swords in their hands emitted a low hum as their energy fields activated, while the dispersion shields in their other hands overlapped, forming an airtight barrier of energy. Each Lychguard radiated a pressure far exceeding that of a common Necron Warrior, their emotionless electronic eyes locked onto the Space Marines in the center.
The air froze; both sides were at each other's throats.
"Nngh—"
Suppressed growls came from the Flesh Tearer ranks. Several Death Company brothers, their helmets painted black, trembled violently, their chainswords idling in anticipation of blood and slaughter. Had the accompanying Chaplains not been chanting the prayers of Sanguinius while gripping their pauldrons, these madmen on the brink of the Black Rage would have launched a suicide charge long ago.
At this critical moment, a heavy and majestic footstep echoed from the shadows at the far end of the hall.
A towering Necron Overlord stepped slowly into the green light. Its living metal shell was adorned with ornate decorations signifying its noble status. It held a phase-axe flowing with destructive energy in one hand and a Staff of Light, the symbol of its rule, in the other.
It stopped behind the shield wall of the Lychguard. Its glowing green eyes looked down upon Seth and his men, and it spoke in a cold, metallic voice processed through a translation matrix:
"You are the first humans to reach this place. I must admit, for a short-lived species so technologically backward it has yet to escape its own bug-like ignorance, the instinctual violence and primitive, fanatical faith you display are... commendable."
The Overlord paused, its tone carrying the arrogance of a scientist observing an interesting insect. "Even during the ancient War in Heaven, I rarely encountered creatures so eager for death."
Hearing this, Seth showed no fear. Instead, he slammed his giant chainsword into the ground, kicking up a trail of sparks.
He tilted his head and mocked through his vox-grille, "Did you crawl out of the shadows just to make your words more convincing, xenos?"
The Overlord's featureless faceplate seemed to stiffen for a moment.
To have its noble sense of ritual and calculated entrance pierced so bluntly by a "primitive barbarian" caused the green light in the Overlord's eyes to flare violently. It was clearly provoked. "Hmph. Insolent wretch."
The Overlord raised its staff, its lofty elegance vanishing, replaced by pure murderous intent. "There is indeed nothing to say to savages who only know how to wave iron clubs. Strip the skins from their bones; they shall be the newest exhibits in my gallery!"
"ATTACK!"
At the Overlord's command, the hyperphase swords of the hundreds of Lychguard flared with brilliant light. The wall of dispersion shields surged forward like a hydraulic press, grinding toward the Flesh Tearers.