Chereads / Gods of the Mortal World / Chapter 2 - Chapter 2: The Bombardment

Chapter 2 - Chapter 2: The Bombardment

"Unlock the collar of a psyker?" Qin Mo smiled as he fixed his gaze on Karon. "Are you sure about that?"

Psykers are exceedingly dangerous. An untrained psyker is akin to a ticking time bomb. It's not just their potential for destruction that makes them perilous, but their soul's projection in the Warp is a beacon, easily spotted by the malevolent forces lurking there, ready to twist them into tools of corruption. So when Karon mentioned unlocking the psyker suppression collar, Qin Mo thought the man had gone mad.

"Rest assured," Karon said, tapping the golden staff in his hand. "I know the dangers of psykers. Once your powers are unleashed, you won't live long enough to become a problem. You'll either fall at the hands of the rebels, or I will end you myself."

Qin Mo glanced at the staff, a golden rod adorned with the Imperial Aquila at its head—not merely an old man's cane but a formidable weapon.

"From now on, you're relieved of your duties constructing fortifications. Conserve your strength," Karon ordered, turning to leave. Bur, after casting a final glance at Qin Mo, followed in his wake.

Qin Mo rolled his eyes at the pair and returned to sketching in his journal. It was one of the few ways he could pass the time, alternating between reviewing past entries and drafting blueprints for weapons.

Even Qin Mo found it strange that he had developed such a sudden interest in research. It was as though an unseen force was guiding him. Though he couldn't solve basic calculus, theories related to his research would materialize in his mind whenever he needed them. It was both a process of discovery and self-education.

"Maybe I've been blessed by Tzeentch," he muttered to himself, not for the first time. The thought had crossed his mind when he first inadvertently mentioned the Chaos God's name aloud. In the Warhammer universe, uttering such names carelessly often led to corruption, especially for an untrained psyker like himself. Yet, perhaps because the name "Tzeentch" was a translation or for some other unknown reason, he faced no immediate consequences, and so he dismissed the concern.

His focus returned to designing a protective device: a gravitic shield. The wearer of this shield would be immune to physical ranged attacks, as it would generate a gravitational field around them. The wearer, standing at the field's center, would remain unaffected, while anything within a two-meter radius would be crushed by the intense gravity. Bullets and shells entering this zone would be ground to dust.

The device was already fully conceptualized; it only needed to be built. Qin Mo was confident in his ability to do so and had already thought of a hundred ways to bring it to life.

"Perfect," he murmured with satisfaction, tucking the journal into his pocket. His gaze then drifted to a small puddle at the bottom of the trench.

Strictly speaking, the puddle wasn't filled with water but coolant used for the chainsaw guns, likely spilled by some clumsy fool. As the puddle mirrored his reflection, he found himself admiring his own face.

"Qin Mo, you're a genius," he said with a smile.

As he basked in his own brilliance, something odd caught his eye—a small object in the reflection, gradually growing larger.

"What is that?" Qin Mo curiously reached toward it. The object trembled at his touch, revealing it wasn't in the puddle at all, but merely a reflection of something overhead.

His eyes shot upward.

Boom!

An explosion erupted within the trench, sending shrapnel flying in all directions. A thunderous roar followed, reverberating across the battlefield. Soldiers and prisoners alike leapt to their feet, their eyes drawn toward the source of the blast at the front lines.

A second explosion then tore through the center of the encampment, enveloping a group of ten soldiers who had been sitting near the trench's outer edge. A blinding flash obscured them, followed by a spinning piece of debris landing at Bur's feet.

"Incoming artillery!" Bur roared, diving headfirst into the trench.

Karon, standing beside him, remained still. With a tap of his staff on the ground, a purple barrier of energy enveloped both of them.

The first two shells were likely range-finders, and once their aim was adjusted, a deluge of shells rained down upon the encampment. Explosions and screams filled the air as the entire front line descended into chaos.

The bombardment had been so sudden, so unexpected. The soldiers and prisoners had been completely unprepared. Scattered and exposed, they were torn apart before they could seek shelter in the unfinished fortifications.

Bur, huddling under Karon's protection, could do nothing but watch in horror as his men were obliterated. "How could we be under artillery fire here?!" he shouted in disbelief.

Their position was meant to be a rear outpost at the entrance to the lower hive, with the Planetary Defense Force stationed ahead, fighting within the Underhive. For the Evolutionist rebels to threaten this outpost, they would first have to break through the defense lines.

Had the front already fallen?

The thought sent a chill down Bur's spine. Whether the enemy had broken through or flanked them, it mattered little now. Half of the soldiers had already been wiped out.

"We must retreat!" Bur shouted at Karon, panic in his voice. "Use your psyker powers! Give the order to fall back!"

"No," Karon said calmly, shaking his head as he gazed toward the front lines. "Now is not the time to retreat."

The enemy was already advancing, following close behind their artillery fire. If the order to retreat were given now, the entire regiment would collapse, and within the labyrinth of the hive, a rout would mean total slaughter by the Underhive rebels who knew the terrain far too well.

"The psyker! The psyker!" Bur suddenly remembered. "Find him, unlock his collar, and send him to hold the line!"

Karon nodded, closing his eyes to search for Qin Mo with his psychic powers.

But before Karon could locate him, Qin Mo, who had been caught directly in the blast, was already covered in gruesome wounds from the shrapnel. Yet, instead of dying, the heat from the explosion began to flow into his body, healing his injuries. Though his mind was still reeling from the concussion, he drifted into a dreamlike state, seeing strange visions.