Chapter 50: The Drop Site Massacre
Near the Istvaan V star system.
Stars, like fragmented diamonds, were embedded in the deep, dark void as Drukhari warships sliced through the silent space. They moved like ghosts from the abyss, silently weaving between the planets.
The warships displayed elegant, streamlined designs. Their hulls were covered in smooth, mirror-like dark purple metal that shimmered with flowing, changing colors when stimulated by psychic energy. The entire vessels seemed to breathe, resonating with the rhythm of the universe.
Inside the warships, Drukhari warriors and engineers monitored various data through complex psychic interfaces.
"Are you sure the creature that will become a red daemon prince and destroy the galaxy is nearby?" a Drukhari warrior asked. He resembled a human but stood taller and thinner, with more slender limbs, perfect facial features, elegant almond-shaped eyes, and pointed ears.
"Indeed, according to our calculations, it should be here," another engineer replied quickly, his fingers dancing across the interface. "The planet ahead shows a very high energy signature. The person we seek should be on it."
That's right, the one they were looking for was Angron.
The Drukhari are an ancient alien race, a fallen branch of the Aeldari known for their sadistic nature. They indulge in piracy, raiding, enslavement, and torture, and are extreme sadists. They also inherited the Aeldari's prophetic abilities, and very early on, they predicted that Angron would become the red daemon prince who would destroy the galaxy.
This would impact their survival!
So, for the "stability of the galaxy," they had to eliminate Angron.
In fact, they had tried to do so long ago. When Angron first arrived on Nuceria, they dispatched a pursuit team to capture the child-form Angron.
Unfortunately, they did not succeed. Instead, their entire team was killed by Angron.
But they successfully exhausted most of his stamina!
As for why they didn't continue to pursue Angron later... well, they collected enough souls and returned to the Webway for a big party first. They got carried away and only finished enjoying themselves many years later, today!
So now, they were going to continue their mission to save the galaxy!
The warship approached Istvaan V.
"Well, is he here? Have you found him?" one warrior asked eagerly.
"He is! He is! He's right here, and he's indeed slaughtering madly!" the engineer confirmed.
"We must stop him, for the stability of the universe, for the Aeldari—Charge!" the commander declared.
The moment they saw Angron, everyone became excited. The prophecy was indeed true!
All the warriors donned their combat suits and rushed into the drop pods.
Thump, thump, thump!
Countless drop pods fell, followed by the Drukhari warships plunging downward.
Boom, boom, boom!
Countless pods struck the ground. Angron, who was tearing apart a daemon with his bare hands, looked at Francis in confusion. "Is this also your plan? Are these our reinforcements?"
"No! I don't have any plans," Francis roared back. "Haven't you heard that plans can't keep up with changes? Do you think I've allied with the pointy-ears?"
He swung his sword to cut Fulgrim's arm, then crashed into his body with a powerful charge. Bang! Fulgrim was sent flying backward, letting out a delicate gasp. "Mmm..."
When Francis looked back again, he saw a group of aliens resembling tall, pale humans emerging from the drop pods, constantly shouting in an incomprehensible language. They charged toward Angron, firing splinter rifle rounds madly and wielding dark lances to slaughter every living creature in their path.
At this moment, Khârn of the World Eaters, wielding his twin axes, became a red whirlwind, pulverizing the Drukhari charging toward Angron.
The next second, Abaddon of the Sons of Horus swung his power maul, smashing it into an Ork Boy who was fighting Eidolon of the Emperor's Children.
"Yo! Brothers, there are so many pointy-ears here. We can eat our fill today!" An Ork warrior driving ramshackle vehicles crashed into the dark raiders, grabbed one, and began to gnaw on it.
Angron also wielded Gorechild and Gorefather, charging madly at the Drukhari warriors. Even without the Butcher's Nails, seeing his childhood enemies made Angron's eyes burn with fury.
"Drukhari!!!" he roared. "You're all to blame! And you still dare to come out and seek death! World Eaters, slaughter these xenos for me!"
He charged at them, his twin axes like a whirlwind, each strike fatal. Even when the enemy drove medium vehicles, they were overturned by the enraged Angron.
The surrounding World Eaters, seeing this scene, were incredibly excited, waving their chainaxes and roaring. "Our Primarch is back!"
"Our Primarch, he's completely back!"
"Kill, kill, kill!"
When the Drukhari warships were preparing for another strike, Francis seized the opportunity to rally his subordinates, shouting, "Boyz, this ship looks good, let's grab it for a dining table! Waaaaaagh!"
"For the boss! For a cool dining table! Waaaaagh!" the Orks bellowed back.
The Ork Boyz, wearing various power armor scavenged from who-knows-where, swayed their heads as they collected parts from the battlefield, assembling them into a gigantic teleportation device that resembled a sewer pipe.
"Ya-hoo!"
"Ya-hoo!"
Countless Ork Boyz teleported up, and the next second, they appeared inside the warships in the sky. In no time, the warships were dismantled and fell directly into the crowd.
Boom, boom, boom!
Explosions erupted everywhere, sending everyone scattering in chaos.
"Third! Stop chasing me. There are Drukhari here, they know how to play, they're the best at playing. Go chase them!" Francis shouted as he picked up a Dreadnought's remnant from the ground and hurled it at Fulgrim, who was charging with his sword.
Suddenly, Fulgrim stopped, and he smiled.
Fulgrim licked his lips, his eyes full of greed. "Hehehe... I should indeed taste them. The main course should be saved for last. Slurp..."
The Death Guard legion also rushed out from their original battlefield, beginning to release toxic gas grenades everywhere. The scene was so chaotic that it was impossible to tell where anything was anymore.
The Emperor's Children, Sons of Horus, Death Guard, World Eaters, daemons, Orks, and Drukhari fought from the Eastern Hemisphere to the Western Hemisphere, and then back to the Eastern Hemisphere. The entire planet was plowed countless times by artillery fire. Even the initially round planet had become significantly more oblate.
Countless colossal Titans collided with each other. Wounded warriors were entombed in Dreadnoughts. Orks gnawed on Astartes, Astartes gnawed on Orks, and Drukhari, everyone was caught in the reality of eating and being eaten.
Boom, boom, boom!
Mushroom clouds appeared in the sky, and the entire planet was shrouded in black smoke. Even from space, one could see a dark, gray planet constantly lit up by explosions.
No one knows how long this battle lasted...
Finally, on a mountain of corpses, green mist swirled. Francis, covered in blood, looked at Horus, sighed helplessly, and said, "No! Why do you keep chasing me?! I'm not your father! If you're angry, go be angry at your father!"
Horus, wielding Worldbreaker, walked step by step toward Francis, grinning grimly.
Suddenly—
Beep, beep, beep!
Horus looked down as if he had stepped on something. He suddenly looked up at Francis and roared, "You are so despicable!!! I..."
Before he could finish, Horus was teleported a hundred meters away, then with a bang, mixed with Horus's scream: "Ah ah ah ah ah!"
"Sigh... I didn't expect Horus to think so highly of me! I hit him, and he still praised me!" Francis rubbed his chin, somewhat unable to comprehend the consciousness eroded by Chaos.
After speaking, he began to bury more Ork teleportation landmines in the ground.
Feeling good...
It was also at this moment that an Ork head, wearing a power armor helmet, emerged from the pile of dead bodies. He looked excitedly at Francis and said, "Hehehe... Boss, we've dismantled all their battleships! We made a super-sized bomb! Hehehe..."
Hearing this, Francis revealed a devilish smile. The two rolled down the hundred-meter-high pile of corpses and then quickly ran toward the location of the new Ork warship.
The warship's bow still had decorations in the shape of a two-headed eagle and the Eye of Horus, showing that the Ork Boyz had indeed dismantled quite a bit.
Just as Francis found Angron, he saw him sitting on a throne made of Drukhari skulls, gripping his axe handles and looking at the World Eaters who were still slaughtering.
[End of Chapter]