BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ.
The Blood Scythe surrounded by green light was danced into an airtight windmill.
The Warscythe moved so fast it became a blur, individual strikes impossible to track. The decomposition field blazed with continuous energy discharge, creating a sphere of lethal brilliance around Nolan's armored form. Green light painted the toxic fog in eerie illumination.
Nolan used Shadow Step to launch his surprise attack on the Genestealer Patriarch.
The ability activated repeatedly, pulling him through folded space in rapid succession. Each teleport was precisely calculated, positioning him for optimal strikes while avoiding the Patriarch's counter-attacks.
He was like a giant green ghost that appeared and disappeared without pattern.
One moment attacking from the left. The next from above. Then behind. Then underneath. The Patriarch's alien senses struggled to track something that moved through dimensions rather than normal space.
Nolan repeatedly jumped back and forth around the huge target, searching for suitable opportunities to attack!
The six-meter xenos monstrosity twisted and turned, trying to follow Nolan's movements. Its four sharp claws swept through empty air where he'd been microseconds before. Frustration built in the creature's alien mind as its prey refused to stay still.
At this moment, a servo mechanical arm struck.
One of the limbs heavily wrapped in azure decomposition force field swept forward with mechanical precision. The Antarctic vibranium appendage moved faster than the Patriarch could react, targeting a vulnerable joint.
It cut off a sharp claw that the Genestealer Patriarch had no time to retract!
The appendage separated cleanly, chitin armor offering no more resistance than paper against the force field. Purple blood sprayed from the stump, alien biology struggling to seal the wound.
Accompanied by the sudden angry roar of the Genestealer Patriarch, Nolan pressed his advantage.
The creature's shriek echoed through the base nest, pain and fury combined in sounds that hurt to hear. But Nolan showed no mercy, no hesitation.
Holding the Blood Scythe in his palm, he continued to chop at the Patriarch's remaining limbs without pause!
Shadow Step. Strike. Teleport. Strike again. The pattern repeated with brutal efficiency, Nolan exploiting every opening the wounded creature presented.
The second sharp claw of the Genestealer Patriarch also broke instantly!
Another appendage fell, severed at the joint. It tumbled through the air before falling heavily to the ground filled with toxins, twitching with residual nerve impulses.
Purple blood pooled around the discarded limbs, hissing where it contacted the chemically-saturated soil.
However, just when Nolan wanted to pursue his victory, his grim smile widening with anticipated triumph...
The Genestealer Patriarch suddenly turned its huge body.
The movement was faster than its bulk suggested possible. Six meters of xenos horror pivoted with shocking agility, compensating for lost limbs through sheer desperate fury.
Another sharp claw swept through the air with tremendous force.
The appendage moved too fast to dodge, targeting Nolan's position, aiming for his exposed head now that his helmet was destroyed.
It slammed heavily on Nolan's ceramite steel shoulder armor instead!
CRASH!
In an instant, the heavy shoulder armor of the Six-Armed Iron Cavalry completely shattered.
Ceramite steel that could withstand bolter fire crumpled like foil under the Patriarch's strength. The armor plate flew away in fragments, scattering across the battlefield. Beneath the destroyed protection, delicate systems were exposed.
The electro-fiber bundles that controlled servo motor response were completely revealed, sparking where connections had been severed. The refractor field generators, normally protected by multiple layers, hung exposed and vulnerable.
Even Nolan's heavy metal body was affected by the tremendous impact.
His entire armored bulk was thrown sideways by the force. Three meters of Terminator armor became airborne, tumbling through toxic fog. He fell heavily to the ground, magnetic boots losing contact, servo motors screaming protest.
The impact drove the air from his lungs. Warning runes exploded across his remaining functional displays. Pain signals flooded through his enhanced nervous system.
But the more dangerous the situation became, the calmer Nolan's mood grew.
There was no panic. No fear. Just cold tactical assessment. His Primarch genetics and combat training combined to create absolute focus in the face of mortal threat.
He took a deep breath of poisonous air before landing, filling his lungs despite the burning pain.
Then, without hesitation, he performed Shadow Step!
Reality twisted. Space folded. Nolan's position shifted through dimensions, removing him from the Patriarch's follow-up attack trajectory.
The next second, he avoided the creature's next strike completely.
The Patriarch's remaining claw swept through empty space where Nolan should have been. The creature roared frustration, unable to comprehend an enemy that simply wasn't there when attacks should connect.
Nolan tried his best to adjust his tumbling body mid-teleport, controlling orientation, managing momentum.
He actually landed on his feet again!
Magnetic boots found purchase on ferrocrete. Servo motors stabilized his stance. The Six-Armed Iron Cavalry stood upright despite the damage, still functional, still deadly.
He once again waved the Blood Scythe surrounded by green light, the Warscythe carving through air.
At the same time, Nolan triggered the weapon's special function!
The Blood Scythe possessed abilities beyond simple cutting. Ancient Necron technology built into the blade activated at his mental command, systems coming online that had nothing to do with the decomposition field.
Under the repeated illumination of countless brilliant green lights, the effect manifested.
The blade began to glow brighter, pulsing with energy that wasn't just destructive. The green radiance took on a different quality, hungry, draining.
A large amount of purple blood was continuously sucked out of the wounds on the Genestealer Patriarch's body!
The effect was immediate and dramatic. Blood erupted from the stumps of severed limbs, from minor cuts, from places where the decomposition field had barely grazed flesh. It poured out in streams, pulled by forces that defied natural biology.
The blood splashed into the air in arcing fountains, painting the toxic fog purple.
This almost instantly put the Genestealer Patriarch into a weak state!
The creature's movements slowed. Its roars became weaker. The blood loss was catastrophic, draining strength faster than its enhanced biology could compensate. It staggered, massive bulk swaying.
Temporarily difficult to recover from such massive trauma!
At this moment, Nolan barely avoided another strike from a flailing claw.
He suddenly pulled the last melta bomb from his waist, fingers finding the activation stud even as he moved. This was his final explosive, the last weapon of its type remaining.
He activated the melta bomb without hesitation.
The device armed with a soft beep. Timer started counting down. Three seconds to detonation.
Nolan immediately threw it under the body of the weakened Genestealer Patriarch!
The bomb tumbled through the air, arcing perfectly, landing beneath the creature's bulk. The Patriarch tried to move, tried to escape, but blood loss had sapped its speed.
One second. Two seconds. Three.
BOOM!
In an instant, the melta bomb detonated.
Accompanied by extremely eye-catching bursts of fire and terrifying heat waves, destruction manifested.
The explosion was a miniature sun, temperatures spiking to levels that turned matter into vapor. The blast consumed everything within its radius with absolute prejudice.
The huge body of the Genestealer Patriarch was completely swallowed by the high temperature in the blink of an eye!
Six meters of xenos horror simply ceased to exist. Chitin armor vaporized. Flesh boiled away. Bone turned to ash. The Patriarch died without time to scream, molecular bonds breaking down faster than nerve impulses could travel.
Nolan, who didn't have time to run far, could only try to protect himself.
He raised his arms to shield his unprotected head, ceramite steel forming a barrier between his vulnerable face and the blast. His damaged shoulder armor provided minimal coverage.
Then the shock wave hit.
The concussive force picked up his entire armored bulk and threw him like a toy. His whole body was knocked to the ground, tumbling, magnetic boots unable to find purchase.
He hit ferrocrete hard, servo motors absorbing some impact but not all. His head rang. His vision blurred. Golden blood, the Emperor's gift flowing in his veins, leaked from his nostrils and mouth.
"Ha! It's strong!"
After the heat wave and shock wave temporarily subsided, Nolan tried to speak.
Golden blood flowing from his nostrils and mouth, he struggled to support the Six-Armed Iron Cavalry's weight. Servo motors whined with the effort. His enhanced muscles screamed protest.
He turned his head to look back at where the Genestealer Patriarch had been.
There was nothing left but ashes. A crater marked the detonation point, edges still glowing with residual heat. Wisps of purple-tinged smoke rose from remains too small to identify.
Nolan subconsciously uttered a low cheer, satisfaction mixing with exhaustion.
At this moment, the sudden sound of heavy footsteps made his slightly relaxed mind snap back to full alertness.
More enemies. Had to be. The fight wasn't over. Nolan's hand tightened on the Warscythe's handle, preparing to continue combat despite his injuries.
He quickly supported the Six-Armed Iron Cavalry into a standing position, forcing damaged systems to respond. The three servo mechanical arms stretched out, extending to defensive positions, prepared to continue fighting.
"My Lord, are you okay? Sorry, I'm late!"
However, David's mechanical voice made Nolan completely relax.
Relief washed through him like cool water. Not more enemies. Just his most trusted companion arriving after dealing with other tactical priorities.
He turned his eyes slightly, golden blood still dripping from his bronze face.
Looking at David holding the C'tan Phase Sword in his palm, the green blade humming with barely restrained power, Nolan grinned despite the pain.
"It's okay, David, Im not going to die yet!"
The words came out rougher than intended, his throat damaged by toxic atmosphere exposure. But the humor was genuine, dark and defiant.
"My Lord, I'm glad you're okay."
David's tone carried what might have been relief if machines could feel such things. Then he shifted to business, delivering the tactical report Nolan had requested earlier.
"According to your request, after my careful calculations, the core explosion range of the micro-nuclear bomb is 400 meters, the lethal radiation radius is 4 to 5 kilometers, and the floating range of nuclear dust is about 8 kilometers."
The numbers were precise, clinical, based on known yield and environmental factors.
"Moreover, the micro-nuclear bomb must be buried ten meters underground and detonated to avoid causing a chain reaction in the hive structure, and to maximize the necessary killing power to destroy all the Genestealers and the few remaining rebels."
Proper deployment would contain the blast, direct energy downward and outward through the base nest rather than upward into the hive proper.
At this moment, Nolan heard David's report and turned his head.
He glanced at the battlefield, which was becoming more and more chaotic. The Genestealers had realized their Patriarch was dead, psychic network disrupted, coordination collapsing. Some fled. Others fought with suicidal fury. The organization was breaking down.
Nolan took a deep breath of toxic air, Mortarion's Regret working overtime to process the contamination.
Then, without hesitation, he gave the order.
"David, let's do it!"
Detonate the nuke. Kill everything. Purge the infestation completely. The only acceptable outcome.
"Uh... My Lord, the reason why I supported you late is because I had already gone to the center of the battlefield and buried the micro-nuclear bomb."
David, wearing his power armor, shook his ceramite steel palm covered with mud slightly.
The gesture displayed evidence of recent excavation. Soil clung to his armor's joints, ferrocrete dust coated his gauntlets. He'd been digging while Nolan fought the Patriarch.
David nodded to confirm the statement.
Nolan, with his eyes narrowed, was slightly stunned at first.
Processing. The ancient Man of Iron had predicted the order, carried it out proactively, prepared everything while Nolan was engaged in combat. Initiative that would be commendable in any soldier, shocking in a machine.
Then Nolan nodded vigorously, his grim smile widening.
"What are we waiting for?"
No point delaying. The weapon was already positioned. Just needed to trigger detonation and evacuate.
"David, you immediately call the rest of the team to run towards the base nest exit!"
The order was urgent, brooking no delay. They had limited time to reach safe distance.
Not long after, the survivors assembled.
The defense team had been reduced to only twenty members remaining. From fifty soldiers to just twenty. Sixty percent casualties. The price of this operation measured in Imperial lives.
Led by psychic Lucy and veteran Hassan, they'd fought their way through.
They detonated the last batch of ammunition and supplies, using explosives to create a breach. Only then did they barely break out of the heavy encirclement of Genestealers, fighting every meter of the retreat.
Moreover, this was only possible because the ambush terrain chosen at the beginning was elevated.
The high ground advantage meant more Genestealers were temporarily unable to climb up, couldn't pursue effectively. Geography had saved them where firepower alone would have failed.
Otherwise, the entire beheading team might not have survived with even this many.
The casualties could have been total. Every single person killed. The mission a complete failure.
Nolan, driving the Six-Armed Iron Cavalry despite its damage, led David to meet the beheading team.
After everyone basically reached what David calculated as safe range, five kilometers from ground zero...
Nolan ordered David to detonate the micro-nuclear bomb without hesitation!
The ancient Man of Iron's hand moved to the detonator, a simple radio trigger. His finger found the activation stud.
He pressed it.
The ground suddenly erupted with violent tremors.
Not immediately. There was a brief delay, microseconds for the signal to reach the buried device, for the detonation sequence to complete. Then the shockwave hit.
The trembling started deep, rolling up through layers of compacted waste and ferrocrete. Everyone felt it through their boots, a vibration that built and built until standing became difficult.
Crackling rock fragments and enormous amounts of dust fell from above.
The base nest's ceiling, kilometers of industrial waste and structural supports, began shedding material. Chunks of ferrocrete the size of vehicles tumbled down. Clouds of ancient dust, disturbed for the first time in centuries, filled the air.
Then they saw it.
An extremely terrifying explosion mushroom cloud rose into the air in the center of the battlefield!
The fireball expanded with shocking speed, consuming everything, growing from a point to a sphere hundreds of meters across in seconds. The mushroom cloud formed as superheated gases rose, carrying vaporized matter upward in the distinctive shape.
The rolling blazing flames almost illuminated the entire base nest!
Light reached spaces that had been dark for millennia. The toxic fog burned away in the heat. For the first time in living memory, the base nest was bright as day.
"Emperor! Did Raditus install the wrong equivalent, or did David make a mistake in your calculations? Why do I feel that the power of the nuclear bomb is too great?"
Nolan stared at the huge mushroom cloud in the distance, trying to open his eyes wide despite the brilliant light.
He couldn't help shouting loudly, voice rising with genuine concern.
The explosion was bigger. Much bigger. The yield should have been fifty tons. This looked like five hundred. Maybe more. The fireball was still expanding, the mushroom cloud still rising.
Afterwards, he immediately turned his head and shouted to the people around him.
They were also stunned, watching the apocalyptic display with expressions mixing awe and terror.
"All teammates, listen to my orders! Don't just watch the show! Run!"
The command cut through their paralysis like a whip crack.
Hearing Nolan's shouts resounding around them, the crowd quickly came to their senses.
Survival instinct kicked in, overriding shock. They immediately ran desperately toward the exit of the base nest, every person sprinting as fast as their exhausted bodies could manage.
Even Nolan, who was wearing the Six-Armed Iron Cavalry, wished he had more legs!
The Terminator armor wasn't designed for sprinting. But he pushed it anyway, servo motors redlining, magnetic boots pounding ferrocrete in the fastest pace the systems could sustain.
Behind them, the explosion continued growing. The heat was building, rolling toward them like a physical wall. Radiation was spreading in invisible waves. Nuclear dust was beginning to settle from the mushroom cloud.
And even in this life-and-death crisis, there was absurdity.
The situation was darkly comedic. They'd successfully completed the mission, killed the Patriarch, detonated the nuke, purged the infestation... and now they were running for their lives from their own weapon because the yield was wrong.
The desperate running made Nolan, who was breathing heavily through toxic atmosphere, inadvertently figure something out!
His enhanced mind, even under stress, made connections. Processing data. Analyzing variables. Understanding what had gone wrong.
"I understand! It must be that the industrial waste buried in the base nest for countless years and the nuclear explosion produced an additional chemical reaction!"
The realization came with absolute certainty.
Centuries of accumulated chemical waste, compressed under pressure, saturated with every toxic compound humanity had ever synthesized. All of it detonating simultaneously when exposed to nuclear temperatures.
The base nest itself had become a secondary explosive, amplifying the nuke's yield by orders of magnitude.
"Emperor! Unlucky, unlucky, unlucky!"
Nolan's voice rose to a shout as they ran, the word repeating like a mantra.
They sprinted through darkness toward distant light, the mushroom cloud illuminating their desperate flight, racing against radiation and heat and the possibility that the entire base nest might collapse on their heads.
The Green Fire Angel arc ending not in glorious victory, but in panicked evacuation from an explosion that had gotten wildly out of hand.