They are on the run.
The once beautiful star field was disturbed by the war between alien races. The flames of war ignited the sky, and guns and cannons pierced the night. Two giants were struggling with all their might. The behemoths named Empire and Randan were screaming and biting each other, but they were just pawns to be buried with them.
Existence itself is a sin. They live on Randan's retreat route. The weird monsters are showing their fangs and claws. Facing the Randan aliens with powerful mind control abilities, the Meimanik who have no psychic talent have no chance of winning. They will become Randan's slaves.
The decision that determines the life and death of the entire race has been made. The parliament has issued the highest order, factories are running at overload, and resources are seized from the entire star field at all costs. They want to escape.
The giant fleet built with all the resources of an entire star field slowly took off, carrying the elite of the entire race. The remaining Memaniks stood silently on the ground, watching their last hope slowly fade away.
The hourglass of the Milky Way is still dripping slowly, the screams of the Randan monsters are getting sharper, the ammunition of human tyranny is also following the Randan, and the home of Meimanik is about to melt in the raging flames of war.
But none of the remaining Memanik chose to commit suicide. They needed to stay alive and use their lives to obstruct the retreating Randan fleet and buy as much of the slim and precious time as possible for their own fleet.
[Attack! Stop them! Stop them!!!]
The Mechanical Sage screamed at the top of her lungs, and she urged the Crusaders to charge forward, charge forward! Stop those aliens outside the main city!
The Forge World of Just, along with the entire galaxy it was located in, was unexpectedly attacked by aliens. The monster named Memanik was violently attacking the core of the galaxy - the Forge World of Just. Those hideous aliens used their large number of fleets to directly tear through the galaxy's defenses and frantically plundered the galaxy's rich resources.
Only the main planet had not fallen, and all the planets outside the galaxy had been lost. Facing hundreds of alien races with more troops than their own, the Mechanicus held on to their last fortress tightly and was crumbling under the attack of the Memanic.
They have not given up yet. The foundries and furnaces on the main planet of Just cannot fall into the hands of the enemy. The mechanical miracles that have been created by mankind for centuries cannot be handed over to others. Every main city of the forging world is a miracle that is difficult to replicate, and they cannot be taken away.
But the numbers on the logic engine were deflecting, and the numbers accurate to six decimal places were decreasing, just like the enemy's artillery fire. As time went on, the winning rate calculated by the sages became lower and lower, and that number was infinitely approaching zero.
The sages, who were known for their reason and logic, certainly knew what this meant: failure, death, limbs and oil flowing all over the ground, cables being pulled out roughly, and wetware trembling and exposed to the radioactive wasteland.
Logically, they should give up this futile resistance, withdraw the entire army to the main city, destroy the data, smash the furnace, and let the wisdom accumulated by mankind for generations come to an end.
But that number has not yet reached zero. A team of explorers on the outer mining planet escaped before the entire star field was blocked by Memanik.
They are the final uncertain number, which clings tightly to the logical engine of every sage, hanging on the number representing victory or defeat, allowing it to still exist in the realm of "existence" at the last moment.
If only, they could bring back reinforcements in time.
The Death Guard who were recuperating in Galaspa received an emergency order from the Empire, and the entire fleet began to slowly leave the Galaspa star field.
The edicts coming directly from Terra were unclear, the language was ambiguous, key information was obliterated by the wavering words, and in short, they contained nothing but where the Death Guard were to go.
The Lord of Death was very dissatisfied with this, but his commander seemed to have no complaints. In Mortarion's eyes, Hades was frantically packing up gold and silver, wishing he could load every bullet that had just come off the assembly line onto the ship.
Forget it, ignore him.
What Mortarion didn't know was that after Hades saw the edict, alarm bells went off in his heart. Familiar with all the poor operations of the Empire, he realized that this battle in which information was concealed was most likely not an ordinary battle. Hades hurriedly worked overtime overnight to be responsible for production and transportation. For him, one more artillery piece meant one more possibility.
As the Death Guard were navigating the Warp, they received a communication request directly from the main battlefield. The commander of the First Legion, Lion Jonson, requested to speak to the commander of the Fourteenth Legion, Mortarion.
Another brother, Mortarion no longer reacted. He just hoped that the Death Guard could fight normally and win.
In the dimly lit meeting room of the Death Guard, Mortarion was dressed in full armor, poisonous mist flowing along the curve of his armor, casting a veil of mystery over the Lord of Death.
In other corners that could not be reached by the communication channel, Hades, Garo and Vox stood silently.
Hades, the lion of Caliban, knew that this was not a conversation he could butt in. The lion was now proud enough, so proud that he was arrogant and stubborn.
However, Hades felt that compared to Perturabo, Mortarion and Lion Johnson should still be able to have a good conversation.
[Three, two, one.]
A weak electric current lit up, and the light outlined the majesty of the Son of the Forest. The emerald green armor represented the dense forest of Caliban all year round. The Lion Sword leaned docilely beside its master, while its master had blond hair and green eyes, staring silently at the opposite side.
Under the shadow of his hood, Mortarion raised his eyebrows slightly.
The farmer from Barbaros was no stranger to this feeling.
This brother, Leon Jonson, the temperament he exudes, the temperament of being always alert and vigilant, is not human, but more like a beast.
Those beasts have no civilization, no mercy, and no human emotions.
In the wilderness of Barbarus, Mortarion had hunted those huge beasts that roamed alone. These beasts that survived alone were tired and arrogant due to life in the wilderness. They were always on guard and became aggressive.
Or rather he was trying to attack Mortarion, that was the measuring look the beast gave before launching an attack.
Lion's Jonson, was he trying to make Mortarion back down? Was he judging his brother who was about to join the war with his own vicious and savage rudeness? Those eyes were fixed on Mortarion with malice, trying to make him flee.
Mortarion certainly knew what to do. When you encounter a wild beast, the best response is not to turn around and run away, nor to attack rashly. On the wilderness, the farmer facing the lion did not change his breathing at all. The farmer slowly raised his sickle that harvested life and calmly confronted the beast.
The two Primarchs faced each other in silence.
Finally, the lion put away his aggressive gaze and nodded proudly, as if making a brief welcome greeting.
But Mortarion knew that the lion was affirming Mortarion's behavior just now. Mortarion couldn't help but sneer in his heart. What qualifications did he have to judge the strength of Mortarion and the Death Guard
When none of that mattered, Horus was a wonder among his brothers, and Mortarion would have asked for nothing less.
[Lion Jonson, Dark Angels of the First Legion.]
Lion spoke, his voice steady and heavy, with unquestionable certainty. Even though the lion himself looked a little haggard and tired because of the battle, his words were still the sharpest sword of Caliban.
[Fourteenth Legion Death Guard, Mortarion.]
The Pale King responded with a voice as hoarse as the breeze through a graveyard. In the face of death and tombstones, even the sharpest blade becomes pale and powerless.
[The Empire is now experiencing a war, an unprecedented war, Mortarion, you and your legion are not planned to be at the heart of this battle. ]
[But this does not mean the absence of Death Guard.]
[The alien race named "Randan" is escaping from the siege of the Empire. We need the Death Guard to be deployed in advance to the retreat route of the Randan to block the branch of the Randan escaping to the northeast of the Empire. ]
[But the good news is that according to the Empire's layout, you will not encounter Randan's fleet immediately, and the First Legion, the Dark Angels' fleet is also likely to tear apart this escaping branch before you meet Randan.]
[The enemy's data will be transmitted to the Death Guard. Do you have any questions now? ]
Mortarion's voice sounded slightly angry.
"You mean, the Death Guard was urgently summoned here just to watch a war? To be an insignificant substitute? We may not even fight at all?"
The lion looked at Mortarion with dissatisfaction.
[Yes.]
Mortarion let out a loud hiss beneath his breathing mask.
Leon ignored it and spoke in a proud, educational tone.
"Mortarion, this is a hunt, and the Empire is as bloody as its enemies. You should be thankful that the Death Guard will not have to face this battle directly, instead of acting like warmongers."
Listening to Mortarion's breathing, Hades felt that Mortarion was about to die, but Mortarion still managed to utter his words with difficulty from under the respirator.
[Okay, I understand.]
The Lord of Death hung up the communication the next moment, and the Primarch smashed the ground with his scythe in anger.
Hades was sure he heard Mortarion swear under his breath.
"I really think Horus is a miracle now."
Mortarion said to Hades, "I now even regret my alienation from him."
Even if they could all fall, Horus was at least better than these guys.
I can't find out, so I'm going to start making up stories. I made a Forge World, and by the way, the Memanik is the Basmemanik that the Death Guard intercepted during the Second Battle of Randan.
The current timeline is the Third Randan, but the bad news is that someone told me that the timeline I referred to before, the time of Mortarion's return was fucking wrong, which is fucking embarrassing (that timeline was written quite formally and rigorously). No wonder I was still wondering why the term "Death Guard" still appeared in the Second Randan Campaign and the Druun Campaign timeline earlier than the return of the Primarch.
Grandma's legs.
By the way, do you guys plan on me making the two primordial bodies disappear? I was planning on having them die directly, but if you want to see it, I can use my imagination and make up a story about why they died.
(End of this chapter)