As the Ultramarines carved a bloody path through the swarm, the Tyranid Warriors at the center could no longer hold back. Wielding bone blades and lashing tentacle whips, they surged into the fray.
Living weapons of hardened chitin clashed with master-crafted chainswords, sparks and ichor flying in equal measure. The roars of the Tyranid Warriors mixed with the grinding snarl of chainswords as both sides met in a contest of raw power one in which neither could claim victory through brute strength alone.
Experience tipped the scales. Titus, captain of the Ultramarines, caught a bone blade strike on his chainsword, then drew his bolt pistol with his off hand. A single shot to the unarmored knee dropped his foe. In the moment of weakness, Titus drove his chainsword into its abdomen, churning through flesh and organs before ripping its head spine and all from its body.
The other five Ultramarines dispatched their own opponents with similar precision. With their node leaders dead, the surrounding Hormagaunts faltered, disorganized, some even retreating.
Behind them, Marcus faced his own challenge, a Tyranid Warrior missing both forearms, courtesy of an unknown ally's bolter fire. Even wounded, it remained deadly. Marcus knew he couldn't match its strength, so he relied on agility and the plasma pistol he'd claimed.
Switching to charge mode, the weapon began to glow with dangerous blue light. The Tyranid lunged, bone blade sweeping for a killing blow. Marcus's focus narrowed, reflexes honed by the Super-Soldier Serum allowing him to twist aside. The blade smashed into the ground, severing a Hormagaunt corpse and spraying gore across Marcus's face.
Closing in, Marcus kicked the creature's leg joint, unbalancing it. He followed with a bayonet thrust into the back of its knee, tearing through unarmored flesh and crippling the limb. As it thrashed in fury, Marcus withdrew to a safe distance. The plasma pistol's glow reached its peak.
Holding his breath, he fired. The searing bolt struck the side of the Tyranid's head, bypassing its carapace entirely. The creature's skull and brain vaporized in an instant, its body collapsing in a twitching heap.
The system chimed in Marcus's ear:
[Objective Complete: Kill one Tyranid Warrior]
Reward: Random lottery draw ×1
Title Earned: Warrior Slayer — Slight damage bonus against Tyranid Warriors; small chance to induce fear in one-on-one combat.
Codex Entry Unlocked: Tyranid Warrior (Bone Blade)
There was no time to celebrate. More Tyranid Warriors remained, and the battle still raged. Marcus saw the Ultramarines pushing into the ranks of ranged Tyranid Warriors—creatures devastating at a distance but helpless once the Astartes closed in. One by one, they fell.
But six Ultramarines could only do so much. Though they slaughtered countless foes and pushed the line forward, the horizon still teemed with an endless tide of chitin and fang. The Astartes were shock troops, not line infantry, that was the role of the Astra Militarum.
Marcus prepared to follow the Ultramarines' charge when the sky split with the roar of incoming engines. Three Marauder bombers punched through the aerial swarm, releasing their payloads. Waves of fire rolled across the battlefield, consuming the Tyranid advance.
The immediate threat broken, Marcus holstered his weapon and turned back toward the main Imperial lines. There would be time now to take stock and to plan for what came next.