Nolan drove the Six-Armed Iron Cavalry forward with relentless momentum.
Three servo robotic arms stretched out as hard as they could, extending to their full two-meter length. Each limb was wrapped in azure decomposition force fields, the energy crackling with barely restrained lethality. The mechanical arms swept through space in coordinated patterns, creating a cage of death around Nolan's advancing form.
He fought his way through the ever-increasing waves of Genestealers.
The xenos-corrupted cultists surged toward him from all directions, drawn by his obvious threat, recognizing that this armored giant had just turned on them after using them against the rebels. Acolytes fired salvaged weapons. Aberrations charged with crude hammers raised. The tide pressed in from every angle.
But the servo arms carved through them like threshers through wheat.
Bodies fell in pieces. Limbs separated from torsos. The decomposition fields unmade flesh at the molecular level, leaving wounds that couldn't heal, that simply dissolved into spreading corruption. Nolan advanced through the press of bodies without slowing.
He was heading toward the Leman Russ tanks, the salvaged vehicles that represented the Genestealers' heaviest firepower.
Wait until he was about to collide head-on with the nearest tank, close enough to see rust on its armor plating...
Nolan's magnetic boots stepped on the ground violently.
The ferrocrete cracked under the force. His entire weight, three meters of Terminator armor plus weapons and ammunition, compressed into a single footfall that sent shockwaves through the ground.
Shadow Step was launched immediately!
The ability triggered, bending space-time around Nolan's armored bulk. Reality twisted. His whole body jumped into the air like a dark shadow, movement too fast for normal perception to track. One moment he was on the ground. The next he was airborne.
In an instant, he was in the sky above two Leman Russ tanks!
The perspective shift was disorienting even for enhanced perception. Nolan hung suspended for a fractional second, momentum carrying him forward and up, armor silhouetted against the toxic fog.
Below him, the tanks sat like metal beetles, their commanders just beginning to realize something had bypassed their frontal armor.
Nolan casually dropped the activated melta bombs.
Both weapons fell from his hands in perfect vertical trajectories, tumbling slightly as they descended. The timers were already counting down, mechanisms armed, waiting for detonation.
Then, facing the reversal of firepower bombardment from countless Genestealers below, Nolan launched Shadow Step again!
The ability activated for the second time, pulling him sideways through folded space. Las-fire that should have hit him struck empty air where he'd been microseconds before. The world blurred and snapped back to focus as he reappeared dozens of meters away.
Two dull roars erupted behind him.
BOOM. BOOM.
The melta bombs detonated simultaneously, each explosion washing over its target tank with superheated fury. The terrifying weapons destroyed the thick armor of the Leman Russ vehicles in an instant, temperatures high enough to turn steel into vapor.
The explosions also completely burned the Genestealer crew members inside to ashes!
Nothing remained of the drivers and gunners. No bodies. No bones. Just carbon shadows on interior walls and wisps of smoke venting from ruptured hatches.
Then Nolan landed heavily, magnetic boots slamming into ferrocrete.
He quickly grasped the Blood Scythe surrounded by green light, the Warscythe settling into a ready position. His stance shifted, weight balanced, preparing for the next phase of combat.
Through the eyepiece of his metal helmet, he quickly scanned the entire battlefield.
Tactical overlays painted threat assessments. Movement patterns revealed formations. Heat signatures identified concentrations of enemies. Nolan was searching, hunting, looking for one specific target.
The location of the Genestealers' command hierarchy.
Although there were many Genestealers present, hundreds of the xenos-corrupted cultists swarming across the base nest battlefield...
There was one thing worth celebrating.
They had not yet given birth to a Broodlord or established a full cult infrastructure. This was a young infestation, dangerous but not yet mature. Still vulnerable to decapitation strikes.
As long as Nolan beheaded the clan leader and most of the command hierarchy, killed the organizers and coordinators holding this force together...
Then most of this Genestealer disaster would be eliminated!
The cult would fragment. The psychic link sustaining coordination would break. Individual cultists would scatter, becoming targets for systematic purging rather than organized resistance.
At this moment, extremely heavy footsteps shook the ground.
THUD. THUD. THUD.
Each impact was enormous, the sound of something massive approaching. The aberration master whose body was covered with rotten wounds from its earlier battle with the Nurgle beast appeared through the toxic fog.
It seemed to have received new orders from the Patriarch, psychic commands overriding its previous targeting priorities.
The creature suddenly changed the direction of its attack, massive bulk pivoting with disturbing agility. Then it launched a direct collision course with Nolan's position, building speed, lowering its center of mass for impact.
However, Nolan had vaguely located part of the command hierarchy through his scans.
Heat signatures clustered in a specific area. Psychic disturbances emanating from a central point. The pattern was distinctive, marking leadership elements surrounded by guards.
He did not hesitate to activate his special talent.
"Transparent Man."
The psychic ability triggered, wrapping Nolan in subtle Warp energies that bent perception around him. Not invisibility exactly. More like... forgettability. The human mind's tendency to overlook, to dismiss, to not quite register what stood in plain sight.
Nolan suddenly disappeared from the Genestealers' awareness!
One moment he was there, a massive threat demanding immediate response. The next, their minds simply slid past him, unable to maintain focus, attention drifting away without conscious decision.
The aberration master who temporarily lost its target could only shake its ugly head vigorously.
The creature's limited intelligence struggled with the contradiction. Visual input said target present. Psychic awareness said nothing there. The conflict created confusion, hesitation.
It felt a state of bewilderment from within, unable to reconcile the sensory mismatch.
At this moment, Nolan moved.
Holding the Warscythe in his palm, he drove the Six-Armed Iron Cavalry forward. The ability let him pass easily through the heavy siege of Genestealers, walking through their formations like a ghost.
Cultists looked right at him without seeing. Aberrations stepped aside without knowing why. The path cleared before him through unconscious cooperation.
He spoke quickly into the communication device.
"David, tell psyker Lucy and ask her to work hard to find the direction of the gathering of psychic energy on the battlefield. The leader of the Genestealers is there! If you find anything, notify me immediately!"
The Patriarch would be the strongest psychic signature, the nexus of the cult's mental network. Lucy's abilities should be able to pinpoint its location.
"Understood, my lord!"
David's response came immediately through the vox-channel, mechanical voice calm despite the chaos of battle.
Nolan heard the reply and allowed himself brief satisfaction.
The Warscythe with green light danced in his palm once again, the blade moving in preparatory arcs. He charged hard toward several commanders protected by layers of Genestealer Guards!
The cult's tactical coordination came from these individuals, hybrid leaders who'd risen through the ranks. Kill them and the organization collapsed.
Thanks to the special talent of "Transparent Man," the approach was trivial.
The Genestealer Guard, which would have been a serious nuisance to ordinary Astartes squads, did not cause Nolan much trouble. The elite warriors simply couldn't perceive the threat walking through their formations.
He swung the Warscythe vigorously back and forth several times.
The Blood Scythe carved through guards and commanders alike. Most of the Genestealer Guard completely lost their lives without even knowing where the enemy was!
They died confused, unable to understand the wounds appearing in their bodies, the decomposition field eating through flesh from sources they couldn't perceive.
When Nolan raised his blade and killed the Genestealer commanders with swift strokes, the effect was immediate.
The battlefield, which had been full of order in both offense and defense, suddenly descended into chaos. The Genestealers lost coordination, units acting independently, the psychic network disrupted by missing nodes.
They immediately caused quite a commotion, formations breaking, attacks becoming disorganized.
Taking advantage of this opportunity, the remaining rebels unexpectedly reunited.
The survivors who'd been scattered by the combined assault recognized their chance. They desperately tried to break out of the Genestealer siege, fighting toward escape routes with renewed fury.
"Thieves can run away! You can't!"
Nolan, carrying the Warscythe, noticed the changes on the battlefield through his eyepiece. The rebels were trying to flee, but they were still Chaos-corrupted traitors. They couldn't be allowed to escape and spread corruption elsewhere.
However, just when he was about to drive the Six-Armed Iron Cavalry to completely kill the last small group of rebels...
The ground exploded.
Industrial ruins above collapsed inward. Biochemical soil that had been compacted over centuries suddenly gave way. Something massive was tunneling from below, approaching at speed.
A six-meter-high Genestealer monster launched its surprise attack on Nolan from underground with great cunning!
The ambush was perfectly timed, striking when Nolan's attention was focused elsewhere. The creature erupted from beneath him, claws extended, jaws gaping.
Judging from its huge body covered with hard carapace and four enormous sharp claws, this was clearly the Genestealer Patriarch!
The clan leader. The progenitor. The xenos organism that had started this entire infestation. Six meters of alien horror, part Tyranid biology and part something worse, wrapped in chitin armor that looked harder than ceramite.
Nolan reacted with superhuman speed.
He suddenly deployed the invisible force field of the refractor field!
The protective barrier snapped into existence around him, projectors creating a sphere of redirected force. His magnetic boots also stepped hard on the ground, trying to retreat back quickly, building distance.
However, one of the Patriarch's extremely sharp claws easily penetrated the invisible force field.
The appendage punched through the barrier like it wasn't there, xenos strength enhanced by Warp-touched biology simply overwhelming Imperial technology. The claw reached for Nolan from the front, aiming for his helmet!
SCREECH!
The harsh sound of metal twisting and breaking filled the air.
The breathing apparatus of the metal helmet almost completely shattered under the Patriarch's grip!
Ceramite steel crumpled. Seals ruptured. The filtration systems that had been protecting Nolan from the base nest's toxic atmosphere failed catastrophically. Fragments of the respirator scattered, some embedding in the Patriarch's claw, others bouncing off Nolan's shoulder armor.
If it weren't for Nolan's retreat being fast enough, if he hadn't already been pulling back when the claw struck...
His entire face and half of his head would have been scratched to pieces by the Genestealer Patriarch!
As it was, the near-miss left deep gouges across his helmet's surface, millimeters from penetrating to the flesh beneath.
In an instant, the three stretched-out servo robotic arms reacted.
They moved like flexible spider limbs, mechanical joints articulating in ways that seemed impossible. The arms planted themselves on the ground around Nolan, supporting the Six-Armed Iron Cavalry's weight, quickly carrying his heavy body away from the Patriarch's attack range!
The servo arms pushed and pulled, launching Nolan backward in a controlled tumble that took him out of immediate danger.
At the same time, the gauss blaster mounted on his power backpack activated automatically.
Green beams continued to violently bombard the huge body of the Genestealer Patriarch, each shot attempting to atomize xenos flesh. The weapon tried to prevent the creature's next move, to keep it off-balance, to buy time for Nolan to recover position.
Losing his breathing mask, Nolan was suddenly exposed to the base nest's atmosphere.
He took a deep breath of poisonous air full of chemical toxins, the contaminated atmosphere flooding his respiratory system. The air tasted of decay and industrial waste, thick enough to choke unaugmented humans within seconds.
The detoxification organ in his body activated immediately.
Mortarion's Regret. The implanted organ that let Space Marines survive environments that would kill normal humans. It began working fiercely in an instant, identifying and digesting any toxins inhaled into his body.
But the process wasn't pleasant.
Nolan felt the burning pain that kept coming from his lungs, tissue reacting to poison even as the organ neutralized it. Each breath hurt. Each inhalation drew more contamination that needed processing. The discomfort was intense, distracting.
And through the pain, emotion built.
Nolan's eyes gradually became blood red, capillaries dilating with fury.
Anger was rising!
This xenos filth had nearly killed him with a surprise attack. Had damaged his armor. Had forced him to breathe toxic atmosphere. The indignity of it, the danger of it, the sheer audacity...
"David!"
His voice emerged harsh through the vox-speaker, no longer filtered by the damaged respirator.
"Calculate as soon as possible whether the space and structure of the base nest can support the explosive power of the micro-nuclear bomb! I want to send this group of 'loyal' chicken thieves a cordial greeting from the Emperor's Primarch!"
The threat was genuine. Nolan was prepared to detonate tactical nuclear weapons in the confined space of the base nest if it meant eliminating this Genestealer infestation completely.
The voice was not finished when Nolan made another decision.
He took off the metal helmet that was on the verge of breaking, the damaged equipment more liability than asset now. The helmet came free with protest from mag-locks, seals releasing with hisses of escaping pressure.
He threw it on the ground nearby, the ceramite clattering against ferrocrete.
Without the helmet's protection, Nolan's bronze face was fully exposed to the toxic atmosphere. His Primarch genetics would keep him alive, but the exposure was still dangerous.
Meanwhile, the gauss blaster's bombardment continued.
Green beams lanced toward the Genestealer Patriarch repeatedly, each shot carrying enough energy to atomize a tank. But the beams were basically dodged by the creature with great flexibility!
The Patriarch moved with shocking agility for something its size, six meters of xenos biology flowing like water. It ducked, weaved, twisted around the incoming fire with movements that defied physics.
Even the few hits that connected didn't slow it down.
The injured parts were cut off by the Genestealer Patriarch with its own sharp claws without hesitation!
The creature would amputate its own limbs rather than carry damaged tissue, chitin armor and flesh falling away, already regenerating. The Patriarch's biology prioritized function over preservation, willing to sacrifice parts to maintain combat effectiveness.
At this moment, Nolan made a decision.
With a grim expression, he stopped the useless shooting. The gauss blaster fell silent, its bombardment clearly ineffective against an enemy this fast and this willing to self-mutilate.
He tightly grasped the Blood Scythe surrounded by green light with both hands.
The Warscythe settled into a two-handed grip, maximum leverage, prepared for powerful strikes. The decomposition field blazed brighter as Nolan channeled more power through the weapon.
The three servo mechanical arms behind his power backpack also stretched out completely in front of him, extending to their full length, positioning themselves for coordinated attack.
At this moment, Nolan looked like a mechanical spider waiting for an opportunity!
Six limbs extended. Center of mass lowered. Every weapon system pointed toward the Patriarch. The posture was predatory, patient, ready to explode into violence the instant an opening appeared.
Then Nolan spoke, his bronze face twisted in a hideous expression.
"I know you can understand human language."
The Patriarch's intelligence was evident in its tactical ambush. Genestealers inherited knowledge through their psychic network. This creature would comprehend Basic Gothic perfectly.
"So, I'll tell you clearly..."
A hideous sneer gradually appeared on Nolan's face, the expression belonging to Omegon's genetics rather than his own personality.
He spoke slowly to the cautious Genestealer Patriarch, delivering words without any emotion, just cold statement of fact.
"From the moment I arrive, your entire tribe is doomed!"
Let it understand. Let it know. Let it feel the certainty of extinction approaching.
"You, the tribe leader, are doomed too!"
The Patriarch's fate was sealed. Whether it fled or fought, whether it called reinforcements or attempted escape, the outcome was inevitable. Nolan would hunt it down and kill it, would purge this infestation to the last organism.
The next moment, the Patriarch reacted.
Perhaps it was deeply hurt by Nolan's words, the taunts striking at its psychic pride. Or maybe it had found a small flaw in Nolan's defensive posture, some gap in coverage that its alien perception detected.
The tribe leader of the Genestealers shook its four sharp claws vigorously, each appendage flexing, testing readiness.
It suddenly let out a deafening roar toward the front!
The sound was inhuman, a shriek that combined biological horror with psychic resonance. The roar echoed through the base nest, carrying challenge and fury and absolute conviction that this armored prey could be killed.
Then it drove its huge body forward, launching itself at Nolan in a pouncing charge!
Six meters of xenos horror became airborne, claws extended, jaws gaping, moving with terrifying speed.
"Just waiting for you!"
In a flash, Nolan couldn't help but reveal a bloody grin.
His trap had worked. The Patriarch had committed to a direct assault, exactly as planned. Now it was vulnerable, airborne, unable to change trajectory.
He did not hesitate to perform Shadow Step on the Genestealer Patriarch in mid-air!
Reality twisted around Nolan's position. Space-time bent. The ability activated, pulling him through folded dimensions directly toward the airborne target...