Warhammer: Hail to the Void Lords!.

Chapter 874, 08.873: 'Nightmare (Incubus)'

On the command bridge, the atmosphere was so heavy that it felt as if the air itself had frozen.

Under the direction of Commissioner Farida, this place has long been transformed into a formidable fortress.

The breastworks made of terracotta steel were dragged by machine gunners to various key points, forming layers upon layers of defensive positions.

On the command decks, one level after another, heavy artillery emplacements were set up high above, and the gunners vigilantly watched every possible entrance.

Although the bridge was noisy with officers shouting various tactical orders, it was relatively quiet compared to the other compartments on the ship where intense fighting was taking place.

But Horatio felt a strange unease about it.

He could almost hear a knocking sound that didn't belong to the physical world, a cold, malicious whisper that was creeping up his neck to his ear.

“Louise.” He turned his head to look at the acting captain, who was somewhat hampered in her movements due to carrying his blood.

This dutiful female soldier from Cardia has temporarily lost her usual competence and agility; her protruding belly limits her ability to fight bravely, but her eyes remain firm.

"Captain, what are your orders?" Louise immediately straightened up and gave a standard military salute.

"I will temporarily take over command of the command center. You shall leave the bridge immediately and accept the protection of the Chief Military Supervisor."

“But Captain, I can still…” Louise’s eyes were filled with surprise and reluctance; she still wanted to try.

“Drucalli wants my head,” Horatio explained patiently, his voice deep and powerful. “This place will soon become the most dangerous battlefield. Never let the first mate and the captain be within twenty meters of each other. That’s an ironclad rule.”

"..." Louise hesitated briefly, understanding that this was both an order and a mandate. She solemnly saluted Horatio: "Yes, Captain."

“Commissioner Falida.” Horatio turned to the blond military supervisor.

"I'm here."

From the very beginning of the battle, Falida's brow was furrowed.

Her intercom was constantly filled with reports of the breach.

The battle situation made her feel a suffocating sensation, as if something was choking her.

"Louise is in your hands now. Your pre-established positions on the middle deck will be safer."

“I will arrange the most elite stormtroopers around you…” Falida had no doubts about the captain’s decision. The two exchanged a knowing glance and then nodded heavily.

"Captain! Captain!"

A clear, ethereal voice, not as if coming through a loudspeaker, resounded directly in his mind.

It was the Star Speaker Melon, whose psionic communications were filled with an unprecedented urgency.

“I have sensed an intrusive fel energy! It…it has bypassed all physical barriers and the Geller force field! I’m sorry, Captain, I have to suspend my work, but I feel it is necessary to inform you immediately!”

Melon, who was sacrificing a psionicist and sending out astral distress calls, sensed an unclean force that had been directly transmitted from the Black Ark to the core area of ​​the ship.

It was a malice directed at the soul, a decapitation operation tailor-made for him—Horaceau Cochrane.

He was not surprised.

Just as those insidious aliens had threatened in their previous communications.

Horatio, sitting on the command throne, showed no surprise, as if he had long anticipated this moment.

“Then…” He slowly stood up from the command throne.

At the nerve plug interface on the back of his spine, several thick data cables automatically detached amidst the hissing sound of steam, severing his connection with the warship's sensory system. *Whoosh!*
The high-pitched and passionate roar of the Holy Blood Chainsaw Sword "The Immaculate Angel's Lash" instantly echoed across the entire throne deck.

The serrated edge of the sword gleamed with a bloodthirsty coldness under the light of the bridge.

Behind Horatio, the air seemed to be torn apart by an invisible hand, rippling outwards.

Three tall figures clad in terrifying black armor emerged from the distorted light and shadow that appeared out of nowhere. Their movements were as fluid and silent as mercury, creating an eerie contrast with the dying sirens blaring around them. They exuded a cold, deathly elegance.

They are Ducalli's elite warriors—Nightmare.

Clad in meticulously crafted charcoal-black segmented power armor, each joint and edge of the armor plates is equipped with sharp barbs and blades, making the armor itself a weapon.

Their signature bone-white helmets with long horns were expressionless masks, with only a cold, eerie green light gleaming behind the lenses, and the focusing crystals in the lenses made a slight clicking sound as they scanned the battlefield.

Each of them stood with a seemingly nonchalant posture, gripping a massive decapitation sword tightly in their hands, the blades flowing with ominous energy, silently locking onto their prey on the throne.

"Let me go with you..."

Horatio, like a king about to face a challenge, slightly turned his head and swept his cold and resolute gaze over these uninvited guests. "Have a good meeting."

The cold-blooded black warriors launched a scattered attack.

They charged toward Horatio from the left, center, and right.

As one of the Comoros' most elite units, Nightmare is a killing machine born from brutal training.

Dukali grew up in an environment of "kill or be killed"—although this was the case throughout Comoros, Nightmare's environment was even worse—the weak in the shrine who could not quickly master combat skills would become someone else's source of pain or have their souls fall into the mouths of the thirsty woman in no time.

Those few who passed the Nightmare Training were the most cold-blooded and ruthless people in the entire galaxy.

Everyone is an elite among elites; the weak will be ruthlessly eliminated and replaced by their teammates.

As a mercenary, Nightmare's daily work involves being hired as an elite commando or bodyguard. In the Dark Eldar society, one's status can only be improved by assassinating superiors, so most governors would not entrust their personal safety to members of the cartel.

(nightmare)
Nightmare, on the other hand, is a rare, completely neutral, and highly contractual armed group with outstanding combat capabilities in this treacherous environment, making it highly sought after in the mercenary market.

These warriors were so fast that they were difficult to see with the naked eye, and their agility and keen senses were far beyond the reach of ordinary members of the conspiracy group.

"Take them down! Protect the captain!" Farida gave the order.

The stormtrooper security force around the captain immediately retaliated, raising their Hellfire Guns in unison to aim. But against these killers who were so fast they left afterimages, aiming and firing became a futile and unrealistic endeavor.

Beams of laser light shot toward Nightmare, which dodged and weaved, avoiding the oncoming blazing lasers.

The Stormtroopers had to switch their Hellfire Guns to rapid-fire mode to increase their accuracy by spraying bullets.

The nightmares held the decapitation swords in front of them, and those blood-stained broadswords could easily block the lasers whose penetration efficiency had been reduced due to the reduced firing rate.

The heavy decapitation sword seemed to weigh a thousand pounds, but it did not slow down the elite warriors in the slightest.

brush!
The loyalist stormtroopers along the way were cut into pieces before they could even retreat.

A storm of blood swept down to the command throne, until a pool of warm blood, carried by the wind from the blade, landed on Horatio's face.

In no time at all, they had reached the command throne.

The crimson eyes behind the helmet visor stared intently at Horatio, their bloodlust barely concealed, and the disintegrating force field on Clive's greatsword shimmered with a morbid desire.

(End of this chapter)