Suffer Not The Radiant

Chapter 46: Primal Hatred

"Hello?" echoed one of the soldiers, his voice lost in the haunting emptiness of what was once a thriving city. Now, naught but a lifeless husk, engulfed in smoke and strewn with the wreckage of military vehicles. The marks of war were all around.

With each step they took, the soldiers and agents could hear the echoing of their footsteps, the only sound amidst the eerie silence. The city's once vibrant streets were now devoid of life, save for the occasional scurrying of frightened animals and the distant crackling of flames.

Ranesk, lost in thought, gazed out at the desolate skyline, a crimson glow staining the heavens like a nightmarish birth from some unseen chaos. Or so it seemed, but he quickly dismissed such notions. The Warp, that malevolent force of ancient horrors, could not possibly have tainted this world. If it had, this realm would have been consumed long ago.

Propaganda posters, weathered and aged, littered every corner, remnants of a bygone era. The humans and the Radiants, locked in their own contentious struggle, had unleashed a symphony of discord through these images. Each poster, a sinister siren's call, beckoning for the horrors of war, for the spillage of blood, for the dance of death.

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The agents and soldiers opted to advance toward the former Forward Operating Base, their steps navigating the treacherous terrain of wreckage, massive craters, and shattered war machines. After a grueling trek, they finally arrived at the site of the FOB, only to find it utterly transformed from the familiar bastion it once was at the commencement of their mission.

transformed into a military stronghold, the FOB had undergone a radical evolution. Its dimensions had swelled, forsaking the canvas shroud of tents for a resolute façade of two-storey concrete edifice. The passage of time had cast its harsh shadow, evident in the forsaken state of the structure – riddled with the scars of bullets and ravaged by the relentless grasp of decay. This metamorphic journey had unfolded whilst they navigated the subterranean labyrinth.

A lofty fence, sentinel-like in its stature, enveloped the compound. However, the gate now lay ajar. Someone had tried to go in, or go out.

"Let's go in," Viper said wearily.

Sova climbed into the pried open fence, the other agents followed, and then the soldiers, Ranesk dented the gate as he went in, while Tyberos obliterated it all together as he simply marched forward.

Sova advanced toward the entrance, only to be confronted by a chained door. Without a moment's hesitation, they fanned out,, canvassing the edifice in search of an emergency exit. Revealing an alternate path, yet one equally fettered by chains.

"It's locked here as well sir," the soldier's voice crackled over the radio waves, a hint of vexation interwoven with duty.

"Dammit," Sova cursed, his frustration evident in his voice, his hands finding a resting place on his hips. Yet, before his exasperation could fully take hold, his frame jolted with an unexpected motion. A chuckle danced within him, an amusement known only to himself. Casting a swift glance rearward, his eyes fell upon the looming presence of Ranesk. No words were exchanged, none were needed. Ranesk's silent command was palpable. Without saying a word, Sova stepped aside, and Ranesk stepped forward, his metal boot lifted, and with a deafening boom, the door came apart.

Ranesk led the way, slipping beneath the door's threshold. The agents followed suit, while the soldiers chose to stay outside to guard. Tyberos, burdened by his immense bulk, opted to remain with the soldiers. His sheer size rendered any attempt to squeeze through impossible. The soldiers had acclimated to the presence of the Astartes, yet an unsettling tension always settled among them when Tyberos stood motionless, an unyielding statue, in moments devoid of battle's urgency.