Warhammer: Don't Call Me the God of All Machines

Chapter 55: Wolves Attack
Lorgar Aurelion sat in a quiet room made of reinforced glass on his flagship. Through the thin barrier of the sky, he could see the sparks that kept burning in the sea of ​​stars.

Fire drove away ignorance. Humans in primitive times used fire to create civilization, which is why humans can now thrive and multiply in the galaxy.

The Lord of the Word Bearers closed his eyes and listened to the sound of the tides of the Warp dancing around his ears.

Yes, what I am doing now is to light another fire. I am the Prometheus of the new era. I will lead mankind out of the slavery of the hypocritical emperor. I have found the original truth.

When Roboute Guilliman and the Emperor burned the City of Perfection, and when Lorgar Aurelion found true godhood in the Warp, the image of the Lord of Mankind in the Word Bearers' minds collapsed.

He is a false god! He is a liar!

Only you can lead mankind to the path of ascension and transcendence, and embracing the subspace is the real future.

The galaxy was burning. The Shadow Crusade launched by Lorgar and Angron had destroyed more than twenty planets in the Five Hundred Worlds. Hundreds of billions of souls had been sacrificed. Lorgar could see their tortured faces and their hands still struggling to free themselves.

This is a necessary move.

Lorgar doesn't care about those mortals. The only thing he cares about is the rhythm of the warp. The music composed by the tides of the highest sky is full of mystery. It is constantly rising. Every conquest and every sacrifice can push the melody to a higher level.

The Original Truth was very satisfied with his contribution, but it wanted more. It urged Lorgar to take down this key node in front of him. At that time, the tide of the Sea of ​​​​Warp would be completely covered by the storm of destruction, and the eastern part of the empire and the solar star field would be completely blocked.

"Angron, my foolish and irritable brother, you only think of blood and killing. I know this is not your nature, but the harm caused by the evil technology."

"You are as much a victim of the Emperor as I am."

"But it doesn't matter. We are brothers. What I do will save you."

Luo Jia was a little tired, and presiding over the Warp Ceremony was not an easy task for him.

Among the many Primarchs, Lorgar is considered to have the face most similar to the Emperor. Various scriptures and maxims are branded on his skin, which are now constantly glowing and heating under the influence of the increasingly active Warp tides, bringing a completely different blasphemous temperament to the Seventeenth Son.

"Fate, the fate I saw has revealed everything, father. Your Great Crusade is just a beautiful fantasy of mankind. Chaos will eventually devour everything. Even if Horus did not start a rebellion, others would have risen up to resist."

"You don't understand. Even if the Great Crusade succeeds and humanity expands its territory to the edge of the galaxy, peace will not come. Humanity's bad roots will cause dissatisfaction to spread. Greed and excess will lead to new chaos. Human nature will make everyone pursue the truth, and your throne will eventually be overthrown."

"You are the true savior, Primarch, and you will be favored by the Chaos Gods." Erebus said on the side.

Lorgar did not look at his chief priest. He actually did not believe the future that Erebus described. The gods in the Warp were powerful and fickle. They were in an eternal great game of war against each other. The time they spent working together was far less than the years they spent fighting each other.

He realized that these great beings were more like the source of some kind of primitive emotion, that the source of their true greatness came from the High Heaven, and that the Sea of ​​Chaos itself was the true original truth.

All of Amatra's defense lines were opening fire. Fusion missiles from the surface, dense anti-aircraft guns and light spear energy weapons built a solid line of defense within the atmosphere. The piercing flames smashed the Terrorclaws to pieces, and the Astartes inside were completely reduced to ashes.

Enemy ships in space were covering his drop pod, and deadly macrocannons fell to the ground, creating waves on the void shield's barrier.

Those mortal soldiers gritted their teeth. The entire sky was burning. The destroyed warships were falling from the sky. Their friction with the atmosphere made a terrifying roar that had never been heard before, as if the entire sky had collapsed.

But no one screamed, and no one collapsed and ran away. They just grinned and fired the last of their ammunition, and then were proudly turned into a wisp of dust by the enemy's light spears and overloaded void shields.

The regent and the commander were already on high alert at the headquarters. The enemy was too numerous. Based on the intelligence received and the number of enemy warships, Orfeo deduced that their total force should be over 100,000. Not to mention their vast mortal auxiliary forces and the Titan legions that were about to set foot on Amatra.

One hundred thousand versus four thousand, such a huge gap is enough to make ordinary people despair, but not Orfeo.

"Let the Edgewatch stand by. If the enemy's Titan army lands, let the Edgewatch take over."

"The enemy's airdrops are still ongoing. Let's send out the wolves. We can't stop the airdrop pods, but they can't expect their airdrop pods to land safely either."

The commander gave orders in an orderly manner, and the entire Amatra's 4,000 Ultramarines, more than one billion mortal auxiliaries and the Mechanicus Titan Legion all acted under the command of one will.

The airport, which was struggling to hold on under the heavy pressure of the enemy, released countless small spaceships. They were the special attack weapons sent by Macragge. These spaceships began to accelerate in the atmosphere, and the flashing fission rays swept across the airspace. In an instant, a large number of airborne capsules were destroyed by the fission fields.

They formed a dispersed formation that was far apart but still orderly, and rushed towards the enemy ships in space.

The warships being deployed immediately activated their macro cannons and light spear arrays and fired at the rebels. The dense shells tore through the thin atmosphere, but were avoided by these extremely flexible small spaceships.

"Fighters! Where are our fighters!" the World Eaters shouted, and suddenly a large group of fighters took off from the battleship's platform, chasing the spaceship and locking onto these ridiculously fast targets with their own micro-missiles.

But they were horrified to find that the spaceship was coming faster than the missile.

"Come on, traitors, catch up with me!" There were only three mortal crew members operating each spaceship. They were all veterans selected from fighter pilots. When they learned that there was an opportunity to counterattack the enemy's mothership, no one chose to quit.

The power of a micro battleship lies in the fact that the maneuverability of battleships larger than it is far superior, while fighters smaller than it find it difficult to penetrate its armor.

No matter how weak the battleship's armor is, it is still at the ship level and cannot be easily penetrated by fighters that are more suitable for fighting in the atmosphere.

The fission positions were facing the fighters made of steel. They were not afraid of collisions at all. The powerful fission rays could tear the opponents into pieces before impact. And their favorite targets were the transport ships that were dropping airdrop pods. They rushed over like hungry wolves, biting those fragile transport ships.

One transport ship after another burned and exploded into pieces, falling towards the surface under the pull of the planet's gravity.

Each ship was loaded with at least a hundred Astartes and mortal soldiers, but before these villains could land on the surface and kill people, they had already suffered the casualties from the fission field.

This was a surprise force. It was the first time that a micro-spaceship appeared on such a large battlefield. The Word Bearers and the World Eaters had a taste of its bitterness. Their ship-borne weapons had difficulty hitting these enemies that were more difficult to deal with than mosquitoes. The fast-moving fragmentation field tore through the armor of the warships.

Even the armor of the battleships was not strong enough against these weapons that were originally designed for space mining. A heavy cruiser had its belly ripped open by two micro-spacecrafts. A large number of people on board were sucked into the space by the sudden change in air pressure, and were turned into ice sculptures by the extreme cold in fear and pain.

These fearless lunatics continued to charge, and after being hit by the enemy's machine guns, they directly crashed into the engine at the rear of the enemy battleship while shouting for the Emperor.

The red-hot fission field pierced into the source of power. The cold steel was ruthlessly cut apart. The stably running ion reactor immediately went out of control. The plasma surged and exploded in rage.

Amid the barrage of bullets and light beams, the number of this desperate army dwindled. The remaining forces gathered together and launched a charge at the Conqueror, the closest of the enemy's four giant battleships.

"For the Emperor! For the Five Hundred Worlds of Ultramar!"

(End of this chapter)