Warhammer: Hail to the Void Lords!.

Chapter 949, 08.948: "We were young then"

crunch - crunch -

Harvey's iron boots pounded on the soft sand at the entrance to the ruins, making the gravel creak and groan.

Holding a fully loaded, large-caliber bolt pistol, he took the lead and was the first to venture into the bottomless darkness.

There were no lights, no sound.

The interior of the entire ruins was like a giant tomb, completely silent.

The cold moonlight shone through the broken and collapsed parts of the ruins, illuminating everything abandoned inside in a stark white light.

Advanced thermal imaging and dynamic target acquisition devices were immediately activated, feeding back environmental information into their eyepieces.

In the field of vision of the vanguard, absolute darkness was replaced by a layer of eerie green data streams. The cold walls, scattered debris, and dust suspended in the air were all clearly presented with different thermal gradients. Darkness became their domain.

The outer part of the building's interior has been completely buried by yellow sand, forming a natural barrier.

The internal central structure, thanks to the protection of the thick fireproof and explosion-proof doors, does not seem to have been penetrated by sand and dust.

After entering a slightly more spacious foyer, Harvey skillfully secured the bolt pistol to its holster on his thigh using a magnetic lock, while simultaneously retrieving the Hellfire Carbine he had taken from the deceased from his back. A thick energy conduit connected to the gun led directly to his power backpack, emitting a faint humming sound as the energy was connected.

“Safe,” he confirmed in a low voice, as a servo skull silently floated into the darkness above the foyer to scan from a wider perspective.

The Hell Soldiers entered one after another, working in perfect harmony and quickly and skillfully confirming the safety of every corner.

The movements were silent, each step precisely placed in the predicted position, and each turn created a new firing angle, perfectly demonstrating the art of infiltration warfare.

Despite the rapid advancements in technology, the essence of this bloody geometry, characterized by cautious maneuvering within confined spaces, has remained unchanged from the time of ancient Terra to the present day.

After receiving cover from his men, Harvey holstered his gun and gestured for Lieutenant Vox to come forward.

The lieutenant strode to the gate, where a sleeping servant was embedded in the wall next to the door.

The humanoid "access control system" had its head drooping, and its exposed skin, due to long-term lack of maintenance, had become sallow and cracked, like that of a mummy.

Lieutenant Vox skillfully inserted the dendritic cable connector into a data port on the back of the servant's neck.

He pulled a shimmering dendritic cable from a groove in the right arm armor of the Assault Power Armor and plugged it into a hidden socket among the densely packed cables below.

The moment the connection was established, a cold, time-worn stream of data flooded into the lieutenant's nervous system. Although he couldn't smell the air outside his helmet, he seemed to smell the odor of rust and decaying organic matter.

The servant suddenly raised its head, its movements as stiff as a marionette.

Its shriveled, dehydrated eye sockets had long since shrunk into two sunken holes, with no eyeballs inside, only two dark red optical sensors that suddenly lit up in the darkness.

“...Identifying identity information…” A mechanical electronic voice, seemingly not human and synthesized by a built-in generator, struggled to emerge from the sound array grid in its throat, filled with harsh noises like sand being scraped.

The engineering lieutenant typed in code rapidly, his fingers moving so fast they left blurry trails.

"Captain, the final firewall requires your advanced privileges." He quickly bypassed the ancient barrier and broke through the final permission verification process.

"Pretty fast. Haven't you really considered learning some more advanced techniques from those mechanical priests?" Harvey pulled a dendrite from his arm armor and inserted it from the other side.

He could feel his identity verification code flowing through the cable, being compared by the sluggish logic engine of this ancient machine.

This machine servant may have been a criminal who committed a serious crime, or an unfortunate commoner, but now it has become a never-sleeping cog in the vast machine of the empire.

It is both a manifestation of the Empire's power and its ruthless warning—to serve the Empire is to find no peace, even in death. "No, Captain. My family has contributed five generations of new blood to the Imperial Navy, from sailors to armed sailors, to bosuns, to warrant officers, until my generation became officers. This honor and sense of belonging is something the Mechanicus can never give me, and I am honored to learn from Captain Lydos."

"Captain Leidos is indeed a good guy. Although our two departments don't usually interact much, we were classmates at Abridal Loyalty Academy."

If I manage to get back alive this time, I wouldn't mind hosting a get-together, inviting the engineering department to sit next to us, and then, in front of your captain, reminiscing about some embarrassing incidents from his military academy days. That might help you understand your superior officer better.

“It’s a deal, Captain. Captain Leidos is usually so rigid, I can’t imagine him ever doing anything embarrassing.”

"There are so many, um, too many. Back then, we were just a bunch of ignorant and naive kids who didn't know the immensity of the world or what war was."

Beep! — With a buzzing sound, Harvey quickly ended his lighthearted conversation, put on a serious face, and entered a state of heightened alertness.

"Identity verified - General-level authentication: Imperial Navy Gothic Fleet Captain authorized. The gates are opening."

With a loud bang, the heavy explosion-proof door began to rise, shaking off the loose sand that had been accumulating in the cracks.

Harvey noticed that the dust piled up on both sides of the door showed signs of being gently moved, which confirmed his suspicion that the agent had been here not long ago.

The Hell Soldiers quickly shrank their formation, forming a new CQB queue in front of the door, ready to storm in.

Harvey raised two fingers and forcefully swung them forward, giving the order to charge in.

"Enemy situation! Air units! Take cover!"

Suddenly, a sentry on guard outside issued an urgent alarm over the communications channel.

His voice was slightly shrill due to the surge of adrenaline, but he still maintained the composure of a professional soldier.

Almost simultaneously, a piercing shriek that tore through the air grew louder and louder as it approached, piercing Harvey's ears through the communication channel.

The sound was high-pitched and piercing, as if thousands of souls were simultaneously wailing in pain.

buzzing-

Several Dark Eldar "Raider" jet motorcycles roared past low in the sky, their razor-sharp outlines appearing particularly menacing against the pale dawn.

Their target was the very drop zone originally set by the Hellslingers, where the remaining Hellslingers were engaged in a desperate battle against the traitors and aliens who were trying to capture them.

These despicable aliens swept across the sand dunes at a moderate altitude, their jet-powered motorcycles spewing pale purple energy flames from their tails, leaving behind distorted trails of air.

The riders twisted their long, thin necks, their heads, adorned with spiked helmets, scanning the endless sand dunes below like vultures, searching for any trace of prey.

Suddenly, one of the Dark Eldar riders yanked the control stick, bringing the jet motorcycle to an abrupt stop in mid-air.

He noticed the clear, elongated off-road vehicle tracks on the sand, illuminated by the morning light.

“Wait,” he hissed to his companions. “There’s something here. Fresh tracks… the prey isn’t far away.”

The Predator jet motorcycles traced a beautiful, deadly arc through the air, their engines whirring even more violently.

Like sharks drawn by the scent of blood, they turned and swooped down toward the ruins.

The poison crystal cannon mounted on the nose of the aircraft gleamed ominously in the cold moonlight. Through the sights of the sentry, the outline of the leading alien rider was locked onto by the rapidly enlarging red crosshair, becoming clearer and clearer.

He awaited his superior's instructions.

(End of this chapter)