Chapter 15: Ambush

After neutralizing the enemies on the terrace, Forlo led the squad toward their true objective—the Energy Control Grand Hall of the World Engine.

According to the fragmented signals they had received, War Captain Amurad had already arrived there with his own force and had been locked in a protracted battle with guarding Necrons; they were in dire need of reinforcements.

As the squad left the terrace and moved through the corridors, they found themselves not descending, but gradually ascending. It seemed the main body of the World Engine was shaped like a pyramid, with the core located at its apex.

Along the way, the dim tunnels they passed through appeared to have been abandoned, showing no sign of any sentries.

"Spread out."

Forlo seemed to sense something in the silence and signaled the formation to disperse. However, they continued walking for several hundred meters without encountering any sudden incidents.

It was not until they entered a vault filled with xenos statues that the curved ceiling suddenly exploded as they passed, sending a deluge of sharp obsidian shards instantly shredding several Space Marines.

*Boom—*

Forlo had only a fleeting moment to react to this sudden ambush. He swiftly grabbed Sothian, pulling him to his left and shielding him with his own body.

Simultaneously, an xenos statue hidden at the far end of the right wall exploded. A tidal wave of dust and rock slammed into the seven nearest Space Marines, twisting armor and crushing muscle, smashing them against the opposite wall.

Throughout the chaos, only Forlo managed to lock his servo-systems in time, standing unshaken amidst the impact by virtue of his own massive weight.

But before Forlo could check if Sothian was alive, and before his equipment group could do anything other than raise their weapons, a group of staggering Necron Warriors charged through the smoke and the wall of debris toward them.

The leader of the Necrons fired directly at Forlo at close range. A Gauss beam set to maximum output embedded itself deeply into the Terminator Captain's right shoulder pauldron, biting into his black carapace, tearing through flesh and bone, and cauterizing a massive hole.

The second and third shots were deflected by his deflector field into the ceiling. Enduring the searing pain, Forlo raised his right arm and activated his mounted bolter to intercept the attackers.

Before the Necron could react, a rapid succession of heavy rounds snapped its head back, completely shattering its metallic visage before it collapsed to the ground.

However, the other ambushers soon closed in for the kill.

They charged the Space Marines with a morbid indifference, wielding Gauss flayers, phase swords, and even the wreckage of their own kind.

A mortal opponent would most likely have been crushed or killed by the impact of such explosions at this distance, but they were facing Space Marines; even wounded, they were not deterred in the slightest.

The veterans immediately retaliated with ferocious strength.

The savage, rhythmic howl of chainswords drowned out the skittering footsteps of the Necrons, while the deafening roar of bolters formed a cold, silent counterpoint to the Astra Militarum's rhythm.

Without a word, they unleashed a ruthless slaughter upon the attackers.

None was more violent than Sothian.

The previous impact had cracked his helmet; one black lens was shattered, and his faceplate was mangled.

Even in the heat of battle, Forlo could sense the monster-like fury radiating from the Neophyte, who was struggling to maintain control over his rage.

Hatred and anger converged into a black ocean, and the lust for slaughter rose like a towering cliff, calling out to him.

The scent of blood permeated the air—the only "scent" emitted by the wounded Space Marines.

Sothian's thumb brushed the activation rune of his chainsword, and then he slammed into the enemy ranks, swinging a series of short, lightning-fast strikes in the cramped space, roaring as he carved through metallic bodies.

The spatial constraints only served to make his killing more brutal; his silver-white armor grew even brighter in an instant, coated in flowing liquid metal.

Before him, none were spared.

Forlo had his own combat style; his fists snapped sternums and crushed skulls with every rise and fall.

An attacker struck the Terminator Captain with a Gauss flayer the moment he downed one of its kin. The beam sliced through his right arm pauldron; the pain of the wound arrived alongside the flashing warning signals in his helmet's HUD, only to be swiftly suppressed.

Forlo activated his bolter again, focusing the target on the Necron's forehead. The attacker's head instantly disintegrated, and it slumped to the ground.

The end was as sudden as the beginning.

The vault, reduced to ruins by the explosions, was quickly cleared. The Space Marines stowed their weapons one by one, thick coagulated blood dripping slowly from their armor.

The communication system remained silent, with only the sound of harsh breathing echoing through the air.

This skirmish had cost a total of six battle brothers, including one member of Sothian's squad; now, only Nad, Axess, and Okam remained by his side.

After confirming there were no more enemies, Sothian slightly loosened his grip on the chainsword, feeling his second heart gradually slow down.

He was alive; Forlo had saved him.

Though he did not understand why the Terminator had chosen to protect him individually, many things encountered today felt abnormal, and this was just one of them.

Perhaps he would find answers, or perhaps he would carry his questions to a cold grave; regardless, now was not the time for such thoughts.

"An ambush like this is rare," a veteran beside Forlo remarked.

"Yes, very rare," the Terminator replied with a nod, but his gaze was fixed on Sothian's exposed head.

Because of the damaged helmet, Sothian's grim, ashen features were fully visible. Grey veins wound their way up his throat and jaw, splitting at his eyes—eyes that were pitch black and bottomless, much like the lenses of a helmet.

When Sothian spoke, a set of straight teeth was revealed beneath his sharp, resolute jaw.

The World Engine was a completely anaerobic zone; even a Space Marine could not survive for long without a helmet. Consequently, Sothian was temporarily using the helmet of a fallen squad member.

He was entirely unaware of the impact his current appearance had on Forlo.

Forlo took a deep breath, steadying his mind and purging the shock from his consciousness.

"Conduct individual damage assessments. We move out in two minutes."

Following Forlo's command, Sothian checked his own status.

His backpack had taken a heavy blow during the explosion; he had wounds on his chest, right forearm, and left thigh from passing Gauss beams, but otherwise, everything was normal.

The other squad members were in a similar state—each had sustained injuries, but none were critical.

They were lucky, though several battle brothers, while not mortally wounded, had suffered limb damage.

But there was no room for stragglers here; they could only follow the squad, dragging their broken bodies along.

"Move out!"

At Forlo's command, the squad pressed forward into the unknown once more. And at the other end of the corridor, a massive thumping, akin to a heartbeat, was growing increasingly intense...