Three Days Later
The warships of the Caelestis Imperium had finally arrived at the capital of the Bloodmaw Empire.
"Damn aliens! How dare they! These bastards had the audacity to name that filthy rock 'Terra'! For the Emperor! Full-scale assault, now!"
"No fear. No pity. No remorse."
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
The fleet, led by Lunar-class cruisers and Stalwart-class frigates, opened fire upon the Urg'nok space station orbiting the planet they dared to call Terra.
"Damn it! Since when did humans have so many people?!"
The commander aboard the space station stared wide-eyed at the enormous fleet—hundreds of warships of all shapes and sizes—and could no longer hold back a scream.
If he had known he would be sent to guard this cursed place, he might have deserted earlier.
"Look at those ships—what the hell are those massive cathedral battleships?! What kind of cannons are those?! And they're ramming into us without hesitation—AND SURVIVING?!"
Commander Throg'mar, an albino Urg'nok, was a battle-hardened war leader baptized in countless wars against humanity.
He knew all too well the patterns of human warfare.
But this... this was different.
These humans were more brutal than ever before—space marines, the most fanatical of their kind, pursuing enemies to the very ends of the galaxy.
"Do not fear! Humans won't dare face us in close combat! Ready the troops! Prepare—"
Before he could finish, several drop ships—each bearing the golden two-headed eagle—smashed directly into the space station.
"Repent! Tomorrow is your death!"
A hooded space marine from the Legion of Shadows leapt into the command bay, shouting a righteous war cry.
"For the Emperor! For the Master of Mankind!"
Another space marine unsheathed a roaring chainsword, cleaving an Urg'nok soldier in half, while his bolt pistol spat thunderous justice into the ranks of the enemy.
"Since when did humans become so... fearless?"
Throg'mar emerged from his quarters, wielding a massive black war axe.
"Humans! Your opponent is me!"
"Out of the way!"
A Space Marine clad in black armor with golden trim let out a thunderous roar, then lunged forward—cleaving Throg'mar in two with a sweeping blow of his roaring chainsword. From shoulder to hip, the alien's body split, and green blood sprayed across the steel floor.
Behind him, several Space Marines from the Ultramarines Legion halted mid-step, eyes narrowing beneath their helms.
"Black Legion..." one of them muttered, voice laced with suspicion.
"Those traitors dare fight alongside us now?"
A warrior from the Imperial Fists growled in disgust.
"Damn it. We're barely five minutes into the battle, and we're already at odds with former traitors..."
Tension sparked like fire on dry fuel. Helmets clicked into lock. Fingers hovered near triggers. Cold stares passed between warriors who, for ten thousand years, had fought on opposite sides of history.
Before the standoff erupted, a lone Space Marine from the Alpha Legion stepped forward, his tone calm, his presence commanding. Without a word, he assumed leadership—redirecting their focus toward the greater enemy.
Grudgingly, the Marines relented. Murmurs and curses echoed through the comms, but discipline held. The Space Wolves and World Eaters, true to their savage nature, had already charged ahead into the thick of battle, uncaring of the politics behind them.
One truth remained:
They hadn't turned their weapons on each other—yet.
But old grudges still burned behind every visor.
For now, they fought together.
For the Imperium. For the Emperor.