Chapter 82
The Thirteenth Black Crusade had not yet begun, but Cadia was already at war.
Anti-aircraft batteries thundered, filling the skies with fire. The Cadian Navy clashed with the fleets of Chaos in a grinding long-range duel, neither side daring to commit to a full boarding action. From orbit down to the trenches, the fortress world was already locked in battle.
On the ground, Chaos cultists seemed to spring from nowhere, hurling themselves at the Cadian defenses.
For Cadia, this was nothing new.
The men and women of the Astra Militarum here had long since become accustomed to living in war. Since the Eye of Terror opened, the legions of Chaos had ceaselessly tried to consume Cadia. For thousands of years, the fortress world had stood defiant.
Legend said the first lesson every Cadian learned after childhood was how to pull a trigger. Every man and woman was a soldier—disciplined, proud, and elite. Their morale did not break. Unlike the Death Korps of Krieg, they were not mindless in their duty; they still fought to protect and rescue others.
"Bombardment!"
The no-man's-land between trenches erupted as shells fell in endless succession. Cultists who tried to cross were torn apart before they could even reach the Imperial lines. The ground was a wasteland, silenced only by the roar of guns.
And yet, this was still only a skirmish. The true Black Crusade had not begun, but already the scale was terrifying.
From his command spire, Lord Castellan Creed surveyed the situation on Cadia and the surrounding sectors. Supplies were being harassed by Chaos fleets, and both Ork warbands and Tyranid splinters had been sighted nearby.
Yes—Tyranids. A tendril of a Hive Fleet had surfaced in the galactic west. In older accounts, the Tyranids had taken part in the Battle of Cadia, though newer records had cut them out. One could only blame Games Workshop's love of "book-eating" retcons—anything to sell models. Like Toho: one sold miniatures, the other kaiju suits.
But the greatest threat was still the same.
Daemons.
The hordes of Khorne, Slaanesh, Nurgle, and Tzeentch pressed against the planet through warp rifts, and only Cadia's indomitable defenses held them at bay.
"This time," Creed muttered, "the daemons are not here for mischief. They truly mean to consume Cadia."
Supplies were dwindling. Ammunition was enough for another offensive, but rations and equipment were strained. Worse, Chaos Space Marines were appearing in greater numbers. Numbers could break them, but attrition would doom Cadia within decades unless reinforcements arrived.
And the Cadian Navy was buckling under Chaos fire.
Just then, an Imperial shuttle forced its way through barrages, crash-landing on a Navy deck at the last possible moment.
"Damn it… Cadia's already this bad?"
"When I left, the fighting wasn't this heavy. We must report to the Inquisition at once. Cadia needs more support."
Inside the command spire, Lord Creed considered his next moves when a figure shouldered past the Death Korps guards. An Inquisitor strode directly into the chamber.
"Lord Castellan, forgive the intrusion—I bring urgent news."
Creed looked up. "Inquisitor O'Neill?!"
"Yes. We've returned from our mission. By the Emperor's grace, it is complete."
A rare smile crossed Creed's weary face. "That is the first good news I've heard in days. The destruction of that heretic world will stall their ritual."
The Inquisitor hesitated, slapping himself lightly as if to force the words out. "We didn't succeed alone. The enemy summoned a great daemon and a corrupted god-machine. We could not match them. But… we had help. From an alien race."
Creed froze. "Xenos?"
"Forgive me. I know how it sounds. But they fought at our side, destroyed three Chaos cruisers, countless frigates, even multiple warbands of Chaos Marines. Without them, my strike team would not have survived."
Creed frowned deeply. "You're certain this is not some alien ploy?"
"I am certain. I saw it myself. The scale of destruction they inflicted could have armed an entire Imperial fleet. For this once, I am willing to believe."
The Castellan leaned back, silent for a moment. "Very well. What else?"
"One more thing. Godzilla."
The name struck Creed with unease. It felt familiar, though he could not place why.
"Godzilla… I've heard that name before."
"That's impossible. You could not have seen him."
"I don't know," Creed admitted. "But the name feels… wrong."
"Godzilla is the god of these demihumans," O'Neill said carefully. "They claim he once knew the Emperor Himself."
"God? There is only one God in the Imperium."
Creed's voice was iron, but O'Neill pressed on. "I understand. But recall the transmissions from Terra—one message in particular: Do not interfere with Godzilla. I believe it."
At that, Creed's memory snapped into place. He rushed to his desk, pushing aside the mountain of reports until he found the sealed communiqué from Terra. He broke the seal, unfolded the parchment, and read the very first line.
[Do not interfere with Godzilla.]
********
If you want to read more there's 15, 30, 50 chapters there of my written fanfictions and translated works in my Pat.Reon.
patreon.com/LordFisherman