The Thunderhawks' displacement engines were a constant low presence through the hull, the vibration more felt than heard. Inside the dimly lit cabin, Nolan was working through the operational plan with Doom and the others.
The problem was the size of the unknown.
They had a location. They did not have a scope. Until someone was on the ground looking at what was actually there, every plan had to carry two branches: what to do if the spread was still contained, and what to do if it was not.
If contained: Astartes drop assault, Whirlwind missile strikes, focused elimination. The kind of operation that could be completed and closed in a defined timeframe.
If not contained: coercive acquisition of regional command authority from local governments, contact of additional allied forces, rapid construction of a large-scale quarantine perimeter, scorched earth protocols applied to everything inside it. The kind of operation that would take months and would require decisions that he had authority to make but that would leave marks that lasted longer than the operation itself.
Nolan had already sent word to Tony and Thor. They were both en route to the South Asian subcontinent. Hawkeye was in the cabin. So was Natasha. So was Doom, whose presence Nolan wanted for the specific reason that what was waiting on the ground might require capabilities that bolters and Warscythes could not fully address.
The flight formation crossed into the Asian Air Defense Identification Zone and received an S.H.I.E.L.D. inquiry within minutes. Nolan had not asked David to suppress it. Chaos did not travel well over the internet, but a situation of this scale needed more eyes than his team alone, and the humans who shared this world deserved to know what was in it when it was actively threatening them.
David passed a filtered report to S.H.I.E.L.D.: enough to explain the nature of the threat, enough to request cooperation, nothing that would invite political delays.
The response was faster than Nolan had expected and better organized than he had hoped.
S.H.I.E.L.D.'s regional field teams in the South Asian subcontinent were already moving. They were staging in Madhya Pradesh, south of Uttar Pradesh, and would be waiting at the border when the Thunderhawks arrived. Political clearance and logistical support were being arranged. Additionally, Director Rogers had personally taken the communication channel to report that the borders adjoining Uttar Pradesh were already running large-scale bio-hazard protocols, and that what Rogers called "magical protection forces" had been incorporated into the border operation.
The subcontinent's edges were being watched. What remained was the interior.
Several Thunderhawks dropped altitude simultaneously. The hatch opened. Nolan and the Lamenters heavy firepower team dropped first, magnetic boots driving into the deep wet soil at the landing site with the familiar concussion of controlled impact. Doom followed, his descent slower than the Astartes but his silver power armor catching the grey daylight in a way that made him visible from a distance.
"Full helmet check. If you have a seal issue, report it now and ground yourself." Nolan did not turn around to give the order. His eyes were already forward. "Heavy firepower team: confirm Flamers loaded and Whirlwind racks topped."
Confirmations came back through the channel.
The other Thunderhawks continued north, carrying the bulk of the force toward the border between Uttar Pradesh and Madhya Pradesh. David would oversee the establishment of the temporary command post there. S.P.E.A.R.'s field support would be waiting.
This group, the probe: Nolan and Doom up front. Natasha, Hawkeye, and the heavy firepower team behind.
"You and I take point," Nolan said to Doom. "Everyone else follows. Contact with anything hostile: kill first, report to me after. If you see something and you're not sure whether it's hostile, assume it is."
They moved.
A medium-sized town came into the eyepiece range ahead, still partly obscured by a low ground fog that the morning had not burned off. The structures were modest and close together, the streets narrow, the kind of town that had been growing organically for generations and had not been reorganized by urban planning at any point in that time.
Nolan raised his hand to stop the group and held it for a moment.
Then he and Doom split and moved into the town from two angles.
The streets were wrong immediately.
Vehicles parked in the road at angles that suggested stopping rather than parking. Shop fronts open, the goods visible inside, no indication of normal closing. A food stall with the burner still running, the fuel having long since burned out on its own, the dry remains of whatever had been cooking on it scattered in the light wind. The town had not been evacuated. It had not been abandoned. It had stopped, mid-motion, at some point in the seven days since the rain began, and nothing had moved since.
No bodies. No plague victims. No sign of the overwhelming Nurgle presence Nolan had been preparing for since the moment the Holy Number hit zero. Just absence.
"Doom. What are you seeing?"
"Same as you. Empty streets. Nothing moving." A pause. "I tried a reading through witchcraft. The feedback is strange: the locals are here, and they're not here. Both things at the same time." Another pause, slightly longer. "Wait. Something just moved. Past the second junction, at speed. I think it is..."
Doom's voice cut out.
Not static. Not a signal issue. Just gone.
"Doom." Nolan was already turning. "Hold position. Do not advance."
He stopped waiting for the reply and moved.
The Ten Rings left his arms and spread into a wide forward arc, beginning to fire on the buildings on both sides as he ran, blowing sections of wall outward in rolling cascades of brick and rubble and metal. Not because he knew what was inside them. Because the direct route was faster than the streets and he needed to reach Doom's position before whatever was there finished whatever it had started.
He came through the last wall and was in the street where Doom was standing.
Doom had not moved. His armor was intact. His posture was attack-ready, all of his defensive fields active, the stance of someone who has found something and is waiting to confirm whether to engage.
He heard Nolan arrive without turning his head.
Nolan stopped beside him and looked forward.
The street was a narrow one, the buildings on both sides close enough that the fog between them was deeper than it should have been at this time of day. From that fog, shapes were emerging. Slowly, with the patience of things that are not in a hurry.
Cattle. Or the shapes that had once been cattle.
Their bodies were distended and dark with the particular corruption that Nurgle's interest produced in living things: bloated past any functional anatomy, the skin stretched and split and leaking, the hooves finding the ground in a wrong rhythm that suggested the joints had been rebuilt by something that understood weight but not movement. Their numbers were already past counting at a glance, more shapes resolving from the fog behind the front rank.
And on the bloated necks, where cattle heads should have been: human heads. Incomplete ones, the proportions off, the faces assembled from features that did not quite match each other. But faces, with expressions. Expressions that tracked toward Nolan and Doom with what could only be described as recognition, and then rearranged themselves into something that resembled a smile.
Nolan looked at this for exactly the time it took to identify what he was seeing.
"Localized Chaos Daemons." He said it quietly, to himself more than to Doom, with the tone of someone who has updated a probability and is already moving to the next step.
He brought the Masterwork Bolter up from his hip and pulled the trigger.
The first shot answered back.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Writing takes time, coffee, and a lot of love.If you'd like to support my work, join me at [email protected]/GoldenGaruda
You'll get early access to over 50 chapters, selection on new series, and the satisfaction of knowing your support directly fuels more stories.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~