Thirty-millimeter gauss armor-piercing rounds erupted from the Goliath in a blazing torrent.
A curtain of fire swept through the air, converging on the ventilation shaft.
Twelve Hellfire missiles followed close behind, their warheads glowing crimson as they accelerated.
The Primus reacted instantly.
Its massive body recoiled deep into the tunnel.
It had no intention of taking the attack head-on.
All four muscular arms dug into the walls of the ventilation shaft.
With a violent burst of strength, it launched itself deeper into the underground network.
Armor-piercing rounds scraped across its back.
Its chitinous shell shattered in several places, spraying green acidic blood onto the metal water tanks below.
The acid burned fist-sized holes straight through the steel.
The missiles struck the surrounding rock.
Boom!
A chain of explosions ripped through the ceiling.
Hundreds of tons of rock collapsed at once, burying the entire ventilation shaft beneath an avalanche of rubble.
Broken stone and dirt hammered the tiled floor, filling the hall with thick clouds of dust.
Leon Drake glanced at the holographic tactical display on his wrist.
On the radar, the massive red icon representing the Primus flickered twice.
Then it began moving rapidly deeper underground before finally stopping at the edge of the scanner’s detection range.
It hadn’t disappeared.
The monster was still alive.
Fast.
Heavily armored.
Smart enough to evade concentrated fire.
Far more dangerous than the hybrid cultists.
Leon cursed under his breath.
“Damn it.” “That thing runs faster than a racing dog.” Ada immediately corrected him.
Correction, Commander.
Based on the target’s observed movement speed, its maximum escape velocity is approximately eighty-five kilometers per hour.
This significantly exceeds the speed of standard Earth canines.
Additionally, large-scale geological fractures have been detected beneath the eastern sector.
An ultra-heavy ground vehicle is approaching.
Your extraordinary talent has once again demonstrated its effectiveness.
Regardless of your location, you consistently attract the largest and most aggressive lethal threat within the surrounding area.
Leon gritted his teeth.
“Ada.” “Did the Medic Corps forget to install an emotional intelligence module in you?” No such module detected.
However, your emotional fluctuations have increased noticeably.
“Quiet.” Leon dismissed the tactical display.
The Underhive was a maze.
Narrow tunnels.
Dead ends.
Twisting passageways.
If the Hellions chased the Primus inside, they could easily walk straight into an ambush.
Right now, the advantage belonged to prepared defenses and overlapping fields of fire.
Charging blindly after the enemy would only hand it an opportunity.
“Don’t chase a cornered beast.” Leon issued the order.
“Hold all three primary entrances.” “Goliath, maintain full-spectrum surveillance.” The Goliath Walker stepped backward across the rubble, returning to a defensive position before the Heavy Factory.
The two Hellions roared into position, sealing off the left and right access ramps.
“SCV.” “Resume cutting through the inner blast door of the Arbites armory.” The SCV pivoted its heavy frame.
Blue plasma ignited once again from its welding arm as it turned toward the deeper security door inside the arsenal.
Not far away, Rufus lay sprawled in a filthy puddle.
The autocannon barrage had ruptured his left eardrum.
Blood trickled down his jaw into the muddy water.
Yet he hardly noticed the pain.
Those few seconds of overwhelming firepower had shattered everything he believed about warfare.
On Karas…
Even a Planetary Defense Force armored company required endless rituals before firing a single shot.
A Tech-Priest had to anoint the machine with sacred oils.
The gunner had to recite hymns.
If the machine spirit became displeased…
The weapon might jam.
Or explode.
Or simply refuse to fire.
But that five-meter-tall mechanical giant…
It was different.
Inside the cockpit sat nothing more than an ordinary man chewing gum.
An order was given.
The fire-control system locked on instantly.
The missiles launched immediately.
To Leon Drake…
Steel wasn’t something to worship.
It was a tool.
Something made to be used.
Rufus slowly pushed himself upright and looked toward his subordinates.
Every Enforcer remained kneeling.
Not one dared raise his head.
Their entire bodies trembled uncontrollably.
He quickly reached a conclusion.
Whether Leon was truly an Inquisitorial envoy…
Or a warlord who possessed forgotten STC technology…
It no longer mattered.
The rules governing Karas were about to change.
Remaining here as a laborer was still preferable to returning to serve that bloated Governor whose only talent was collecting taxes.
Helena stood beside one of the Hellions, gripping her Arbites badge tightly.
She was just as shaken.
The Genestealer Cult specialized in infiltration.
Assassination.
Infection.
They hunted from the shadows using poisoned claws and hidden blades.
Yet the Primus had willingly exposed itself and even resorted to using an Imperial heavy mining laser.
That meant only one thing.
It was desperate.
Even alien instincts knew fear.
Leon Drake’s forces had become a wall of iron the Tyranid swarm could not bite through.
“My lord.” Helena hurried to Leon’s side.
“The cult commander has deployed heavy industrial weaponry.” “That means they’ve abandoned purely biological close-range assaults.” “District Four of the Underhive used to be a mining consortium transfer station.
They may have…” Before she could finish…
The thick metal floor panels beneath the hall suddenly jumped.
The filthy water in nearby puddles leaped into the air.
Rust that had clung to the walls for decades peeled away in massive sheets, crashing against helmets and armor.
Then came another deep impact.
And another.
The sound was low.
Almost muffled.
Yet every vibration penetrated straight through the ground.
It wasn’t an explosion.
It sounded like something unimaginably massive was forcing its way through the bedrock itself.
Leon felt the vibrations clearly through the soles of his boots.
An earthquake?
Impossible.
The hive city’s foundations extended thousands of meters underground and had been reinforced over countless millennia.
They would never fail naturally like this.
Ada’s warning overrode the echoes.
Warning.
A massive high-density object has been detected breaching structural support walls.
Target movement speed is slow.
Physical momentum is extremely high.
Surface pressure currently exceeds the building’s structural tolerance by three hundred percent.
Leon immediately opened the three-dimensional terrain scan.
The display expanded.
Behind the eastern support wall…
A titanium-alloy structure standing ten meters tall and three meters thick…
Three enormous red masses appeared.
They were advancing steadily.
Rock.
Massive drainage pipes.
Solid metal support columns.
Everything in their path was being bulldozed aside by sheer weight.
Estimated mass calculations climbed wildly.
Two hundred tons.
Three hundred tons.
Still rising.
No Tyranid charge could produce this kind of destruction.
“All units.” “Withdraw from the eastern sector.” “Goliath.” “Load armor-piercing ammunition.” The Hellions reversed immediately, their tires screeching across the floor.
The Goliath’s massive feet cracked the stone as it repositioned beside the Heavy Factory.
Fresh ammunition belts rattled into the twin autocannons.
Helena’s face suddenly turned pale.
She remembered.
“It’s mining equipment!” she shouted.
“The cult has infiltrated the heavy mining guild in District Three!” “Those are industrial excavation machines used to mine the hive itself!” The Primus had never intended to fight Leon head-on.
With its genetic assimilation rendered useless…
Its evolutionary advantage completely nullified…
It had changed tactics.
If biological assaults failed…
Then it would weaponize the planet’s own industry.
Use overwhelming mass…
To flatten the Heavy Factory itself.
The eastern titanium support wall began bulging inward.
The reinforced plates shrieked under impossible pressure.
Rivets burst free one after another like rifle bullets, ricocheting throughout the chamber.
One unfortunate Enforcer failed to dodge in time.
A flying rivet punched straight through his shoulder, sending him screaming to the ground.
A deafening metallic shriek echoed from behind the wall.
Blue-white sparks burst through widening cracks.
The three-meter-thick support wall was carved open by an enormous rotating blade, leaving behind a six-meter-wide gash.
Crash!
The wall collapsed completely.
Dust and twisted metal erupted throughout the underground hall.
A gigantic crawler track nearly four meters wide rolled over the rubble and forced its way inside.
Its treads were stained with dried black blood.
Even the Imperial Aquila markings had been eaten away by acid.
It was an Imperial heavy tracked mining vehicle.
Over twenty meters long.
Nearly four hundred tons in weight.
Originally designed to tear open planetary crusts and extract dense mineral veins.
Now…
The Genestealer Cult had claimed it.
It had become a siege engine.
At its bow…
A colossal alloy cutting wheel more than six meters across spun at terrifying speed.
The outer rim was lined with plasma cutting teeth that swept blue arcs across the floor.
The massive mining vehicle smashed through the underground passageways.
Dragging boulders and clouds of dust behind it…
It drove relentlessly toward the center of the hall.
Several huge exhaust stacks on its roof belched thick black smoke.
Standing atop the highest point of the machine…
Was the Primus.
Ada immediately began her analysis.
Enemy vehicle analysis complete.
Estimated mass: 412 tons.
Armor composition: Outdated riveted titanium alloy.
Primary weapon: Oversized overcharged rotary saw.
High probability of blade failure under sustained operation.
Assessment: A pile of scrap metal assembled with absolutely no understanding of aerodynamics, relying solely on excessive weight.
However, given its overwhelming mass, immediate tactical withdrawal is strongly advised.
Otherwise, in approximately fourteen seconds, Commander will be compressed beneath the vehicle into a human pancake approximately 0.3 millimeters thick.
The good news is that your CMC armor will provide the finished product with an attractive blue-and-black metallic sheen.
Leon stared expressionlessly as he drew his customized gauss pistol.
“Thanks, Ada.” “That was disturbingly precise.” “And somehow even more disgusting.” He raised the pistol toward the approaching steel monster.
“Goliath.” “Load armor-piercing rounds.” Green slime continued dripping from the Primus’ battered chitin.
It slowly raised the heavy mining laser cannon, its barrel still glowing from extreme heat.
The weapon locked directly onto the Heavy Factory’s defensive line.
The thunderous roar of the giant cutting wheel tore through the hall, drowning out every other sound.
Leon narrowed his eyes.
“Come on.” “Let’s find out whose steel is stronger.”