Warhammer: Empire Reboot

Abaddon nodded slightly.

"Nakmund Corridor".

"The Great Rift severed the Milky Way. It was the only choke point connecting the north and south of the Empire, the lifeline of Guilliman's indomitable expedition."

He turned and looked at the narrow channel in the center of the star map.

"As long as the Nakmonde Corridor is controlled, the Empire will continue to split. The Dark Side will forever suffer from shortages of supplies, communication disruptions, and no way to seek help."

"If Guilliman's fleet doesn't get here, the dark world will slowly rot in our hands."

Everyone in the command room lowered their heads.

"No matter how much trouble Lawson causes in the shadows, can he conjure up enough navigators out of thin air?"

"Is it possible to equip all the planets on the dark side with thrusters and drive them away?"

"No."

"He was a beast trapped in a cage. He won one battle, he won ten battles, he won a hundred battles."

Abaddon looked at Agrippina's red dot.

"He can't change the strategic deadlock either."

"The Four Gods are enraged?"

Abaddon sneered: "The Four Gods want skulls, plagues, tricks, and screams. They care about immediate entertainment and blood sacrifices."

He gripped the armrest of the throne.

"But I am not the hound of the gods!"

Draconion hissed softly on his sword pedestal.

"I launched the Black Crusade not to chase a warlord who curses all over the galaxy on behalf of the gods."

“I learned from Horus’s lesson.”

"A commander who is swayed by emotions and the will of the gods is destined to fail."

He stared at Falk.

"Remember our mission."

"We must destroy this corrupt empire."

"We must remove that throne from Terra."

"We must win."

The command room fell into dead silence, and Falk lowered his head.

"Yes, Commander."

Abaddon leaned back on his throne, looking at the still-blinking red dot of Agrippina.

"Losen is very smart."

"He used the crudest means to achieve the most effective strategic containment. He wanted me to watch him, and wanted me to throw my troops into that bottomless pit."

Abaddon laughed: "Then I won't watch it!!!"

He raised his hand and gave the final instruction.

"Let those mad dogs who can't stand being provoked go feed his meat grinder."

"Whether it's the World Devourer or the Red Pirate."

"Their deaths there are just what I need to cleanse the noise and idiots from within the chaos."

"Close the communication array and block all provocative signals from Agrippina."

"Black Legion, do not change course."

"The fleet group maintains maximum thrust."

"Continue to move forward."

"Nakmund Corridor".

……

The edge of the Nakmunde Corridor.

Kerus-9 Mining World.

The air was thick with the acrid smell of sulfur dioxide and the metallic slag left over from gold smelting. The sky was obscured by thick volcanic ash and the wreckage of orbital warships, taking on a sickly dark red hue.

Lord Korga of Chaos stood on the high ground and lowered his long-range optical biological telescope.

He was clad in heavy black Legion power armor, the Eye of Horus emblem on his chest worn dull by the wind and sand.

Korga fought for ten thousand years.

He dislikes recklessness.

The reckless are all dead.

He had besieged the imperial fortress built on the edge of the volcano for seven days.

A full company of Blood Angels, about one hundred Astartes, is stationed inside.

Korga did not launch a strong attack.

He severed the underground pipeline network, destroyed the starport, and stationed three Chaos Strike Cruisers in low Earth orbit, creating an absolute no-fly zone.

No airdrop pods or supply ships can penetrate the blockade.

According to the standard rations of the Code of Astartes, a Space Marine carries a fixed number of bombs when fully loaded.

In a high-intensity defensive battle without logistical support, the maximum ammunition reserves for one hundred Astartes are approximately seventy-two hours.

Korga waited for a full seven days.

One hundred and sixty-eight hours.

He sends two thousand mutated slave soldiers and chaos fanatics to attack the city walls every day, consuming the Blood Angels' ammunition.

For the first three days, the fire control on the fortress walls was precise, and every bomb took a life.

On the fourth day, Korga anticipated that the enemy's firepower would weaken and began to switch to close combat with his chainsaw sword.

On the fifth day, the enemy's firepower not only did not weaken, but they also increased their heavy explosive suppression.

On the sixth day, the Holy Blood Angel fired several precious armor-piercing missiles, destroying his two demon engines.

Today is the eighth day.

Kolga looked ahead.

A row of dazzling blue lights illuminated the fortress walls.

That's a characteristic of plasma weapons being overcharged.

The adjutant next to Korga was about to speak.

boom--

More than a dozen high-temperature plasma fireballs ripped through the gray sky and crashed into the Chaos Fortress assembly area.

The extreme heat instantly vaporized hundreds of armored Chaos Space Marines, leaving only a deep crater of molten glass on the ground.

Korga's mechanical prosthetic eye flashed wildly, displaying an error message.

The Chaos Wizard beside him was also stunned.

"impossible."

"Their ammunition depot should have been emptied three days ago."

"The plasma reaction flasks should have been used up long ago."

He turned his head sharply and looked at the Chaos Wizard.

"Without rail-dropped equipment or underground tunnels, where did they get all this heavy weaponry from?"

The Chaos Wizard shook his head.

"There are no network fluctuations, nor any traces of warp teleportation. That fortress is a dead city on both a physical and psionic level."

Korga gripped his power sword tightly.

For a moment, he wondered if he had fallen into a strange hallucination.

The enemy was not out of ammunition or supplies.

They even get richer the more they fight.

The frequency of that plasma floor cleaning was so extravagant, it was as if they had a complete casting world standing behind them.

……

Inside the crater fortress.

Cassio, the company commander of the Fifth Company of the Holy Blood Angels, removed his helmet, which was covered in gunpowder smoke, and took a breath of air filled with the smell of sulfur.

Then he choked and coughed.

A soldier next to him glanced at him.

Cassio waved his hand.

"I did it on purpose."

He walked to the edge of the city wall, looked down at the huge crater created by the plasma blast, and finally couldn't help but laugh out loud.

"Those bastards from the Black Legion want to surround us here and kill us when we run out of ammunition and food?"

He turned and walked towards the inner courtyard.

"Let them keep waiting."

Inside the inner courtyard, there were no mountains of corpses, nor any warriors driven to a black rage by despair.

One hundred Holy Blood Angels sat behind cover, methodically cleaning the gun barrels.

Some people are even sharing a high-protein synthetic food that has a meaty aroma.