[The attackers inside the church are not the hulking, chitin-armored hybrid Genestealers you expected. They are just human believers, pathetic and desperate, who believe fiercely in a beautiful, fabricated vision of the Four-Armed Emperor.]
[But the Space Sharks' bolters are never reasonable; they are tools of brutal, indiscriminate extermination. The reconnaissance team's focused bolter fire instantly shattered the initial confidence of the human believers. The heavy, mass-reactive shells exploded, tearing through the thin ranks.]
[They began to panic, shouting blasphemous slogans for the Four-Armed Emperor, a terrifying mixture of devotion and hysteria, and launched a death charge toward you regardless of everything, rushing towards the Astartes like moths to a flame.]
[After the first, devastating round of bolter fire, the members of the reconnaissance team subconsciously put away their bolters, conserving precious ammunition. They silently raised their roaring chainsaw axes, the monomolecular teeth screaming, driving their power armor into a brutal collision with the remaining human believers.]
[In an instant, flesh and limbs flew everywhere, human heads and intestines dancing in the air. The small, confined space of the church became a slaughterhouse.]
[The fighting style of the Red Brethren Astartes is probably no different from that of the frenzied World Eaters; brutal, direct, and merciless.]
["Colluding with xenos... you are sentenced to death!" You slowly put away your storm bolter, its barrel smoking, and activated the communication device to inform the company commander of the situation, your voice flat amidst the noise of the carnage.]
[You learned that the local Pontifex was attacked by an assassin, a clear sign of the cult's infiltration. With the help of a local Inquisitor, Bail Sharr confirmed the undeniable existence of the Genestealer sect.]
[The Astartes of the First Strike Team, together with the Librarian and the Inquisitor, went to the underground passages of the slums to check the entrance of a suspected Genestealer nest.]
[Your reconnaissance team received an urgent order: go to Absolution Square and assemble with the main company.]
[You glanced at the interior of the church, now devoid of living people and utterly ruined, and immediately issued an order to retreat, your voice sharp over the vox.]
[You led the reconnaissance team quickly past the overlapping churches and monastery buildings, your heavy Terminator armor thudding on the ancient flagstones.]
[Before night fell completely on Pious V, the sky turning a bruised purple, you successfully arrived at Absolution Square.]
[You remained vigilant as you passed the ragged mortal believers standing silently around the square. Their numbers exceeded your imagination; they were packed together, silent, and waiting.]
[At this time, the Astartes of the company were arranging defensive positions, the sound of heavy metal on stone constant. Fifteen Land Raiders were parked in the inner circle of the position. The twin-linked heavy bolters mounted on them had been debugged and were ready to fire.]
[Ten Rhino transporters had become simple defensive barriers, scattered around the outermost edge of the square, blocking all streets leading to Absolution Square.]
[The heavy tracks of five Predator Destructor tanks crushed the delicate stone ground, slowly rolling out of the cabin of a Thunderhawk transport that had just landed.]
[The Destroyer Heavy Firepower Team of the Third Company was installing Cyclone missile launchers on top of their power backpacks. They were also equipped with plasma cannons or heavy bolters, preparing for massed infantry assault.]
[You saw that many precious power axes and chainswords were also being distributed to the Astartes, the air humming with activated energy fields and roaring monofilament.]
[You stopped the familiar white-haired technical sergeant, who was securing a rack of power weapons.]
[You snatched an ancient power axe from the hand of the man, who wore a deeply resentful look, having clearly intended the weapon for a friend.]
[You found the expressionless Captain Bail Sharr in the center of the defensive perimeter.]
[You expressed your concerns about the defensive position to him. Absolution Square was too empty, and the surrounding buildings offered too many commanding heights, which was very unfavorable for the Astartes, leaving them exposed to elevated fire.]
["We don't have more time," Captain Bail Sharr said, his voice flat and final, his dark eyes fixed on the deepening shadows surrounding the square. "Half a pious day ago, the Home Fleet had a fierce collision with the Hive Fleet. Everyone in the Third Company must become bait to attract the leader of the Genestealers—the Patriarch." He was accepting a suicide mission.]
[You fell silent, the meaning of his words sinking in: your lives were now expendable, a necessary sacrifice.]
[You nodded heavily and turned to prepare for battle, strapping the new power axe onto your armor.]
[As night fell, the temperature dropping sharply, more and more mortal believers gathered around Absolution Square. They stood at the entrances to the streets, silent and motionless.]
[Due to atmospheric interference, vague communications from the Guardian Militia patched into the Astartes' communication devices from time to time—reports of riots and chaos in various parts of the city, with mobs attacking churches and infrastructure.]
[On Captain Bail Sharr's order, you set up a group of teleport beacons in the center of Absolution Square, a shimmering field generator.]
[That was an arrangement to guide the Terminator Squad—the only other unit in Terminator armor—directly to the battlefield if the need arose.]
[You planned to go to the cathedral on the side of Absolution Square, which had become a temporary command post, to report the status of the beacons to Captain Bail Sharr.]
[At this moment, you suddenly heard a familiar voice from the communication device, cutting through the static.]
["The time has come, fellow Void brothers. The future of the Chapter will depend on you and me," Captain Bail Sharr's deep voice seemed to blow the horn of war, ringing with grim finality. "Prepare to fight!"]
[Accompanied by deafening shouts and howls—a horrifying, tidal wave of sound—countless Genestealer cultists, mixed in with ignorant mortal cultists, launched a terrifying attack on Absolution Square, pouring out of every shadowed street.]
[One by one, the priests of the Genestealer sect revealed themselves on rooftops and elevated platforms. They continued to preach evil doctrines and incited more people to join, using powerful lungs and crackling vox-amps.]
[The cultists were like waves of a terrifying tide rushing onto the shore, trying to drown the Astartes standing in the square with sheer numbers.]
[The harsh roar of bolters rang out one after another, and the Land Raiders' twin-linked heavy bolters showed their terrifying, constant firepower, stitching lines of explosive destruction through the approaching horde.]
[The ferocious mortal cultists and the purple-skinned, bald second-generation Genestealers were instantly blown into countless pieces of flesh and blood, scattering bone and gore across the paving stones.]
[However, the countless cultists had no fear of this. They surged forward, driven by genetic imperative and zeal.]
[Some third-generation Genestealers who could use weapons gradually appeared in the horde, their hands covered in gloves to hide their claws. They raised their mining lasguns and needle pistols, launching inaccurate but numerous sneak attacks on the Astartes.]
[The silent Red Brethren controlled their bolters with cold efficiency, accurately shooting the cultists that posed an actual threat—those carrying heavy weaponry or those with clearer hybrid markings.]
[More cultists chanted the scriptures and slogans of the Genestealer sect, and kept going to their deaths, their eyes wide with religious ecstasy.]
[At this moment, the crazy believers did not seem to be fighting a fierce battle, but were rushing to a pilgrimage, one after another, throwing themselves onto the barrels of the Land Raiders.]
[The incendiary gun mounted above your head kept spewing out terrifying firepower, bathing the advancing ranks in a sheet of white-hot prometheum flames. Even the storm bolter in your hand never stopped, spitting a constant stream of death.]
[Unfortunately, the cultists that kept pouring into Absolution Square did not decrease at all; instead, their numbers increased, seemingly regenerating from the surrounding slum buildings.]
[You heard the order from Captain Bail Sharr over the communication device, strained and urgent: evacuate everyone toward the cathedral—the fortified command post.]
[Just as you were about to retreat, you saw several battle-brothers trapped by the cultists on the outer perimeter. They tried hard to swing their chainsaw axes, chopping at the cultists that kept coming forward, but their range of movement was gradually shrinking, and their tall figures were about to be submerged by the tide of cultists.]
[You quickly put away the storm bolter, letting it hang on its magnetic sling.]
[You drew out the power axe and the roaring chainsaw axe without hesitation, the blades crackling and screaming. You launched an indomitable, bloody charge toward the frenzied horde, aiming directly for the trapped brothers.]
[It seemed as if a carnival of flesh and blood had been set off in front of you. Blood, intertwined with bright red and dark purple, kept pouring onto your Terminator power armor, coating it in a slick, steaming layer.]
[With your fearless fighting skills and the impenetrable defense of the Terminator armor, you violently carved a terrifying bloody path, smashing cultists aside like rag dolls.]
[The silent Shark battle-brothers you had just rescued surrounded you, turning to face the new threat. They cooperated with your violent slaughter, fighting shoulder-to-shoulder, advancing toward the cathedral with immense difficulty.]
[At this moment, you saw a rocket that had passed through the frenzied horde and was fired from a rooftop at the team's position, a dark shape trailing smoke.]
[You instantly activated the shield generator on the Terminator power armor, a brilliant blue shimmer briefly enveloping your frame.]
[You moved your magnetic boots violently, planting your feet firmly, and blocked the way in front of everyone without hesitation, accepting the full impact of the incoming explosive payload.]