The war in the Upper Hive raged on, with the First Army, deeply engrossed in battle, still unaware of what had transpired at the spire.
In this full-scale war, the 47th Regiment, led by Craine, had abandoned the defense of fortresses and settlements in the Underhive that required no protection, joining the assault instead.
Seated inside a modified Leman Russ tank, Craine directed the battle while keeping his eyes fixed on the road ahead. Most of the enemies were in retreat, while a handful, resigned to their fate, strapped on explosives, preparing for a desperate last stand.
Craine noticed a sudden lull in the counterattack from the front line, and then saw figures emerging from trenches and buildings, pulling smoke grenades from their belts and hurling them out.
The entire district was quickly engulfed in thick smoke.
"Activate thermal imaging," Craine ordered through the regimental communication channel.
The soldiers of the 47th, already anticipating the order, activated the thermal imaging function of their power armor. The smoke, instead of concealing the enemy, only made their outlines more distinct.
The enemy, unaware of this, began rushing out of their cover, laden with all manner of explosives—meltabombs, bundles of grenades, or sacks filled with volatile powders.
"Kill them," Craine commanded.
The drones deactivated their gravity shields, the infantry opened fire with lasguns, the tank's main cannon roared, and even the heavy bolters mounted on the tank's turrets joined in the barrage.
The enemy fell in waves, some crumbling under the fire, others blown apart by their own explosives, triggering a chain of blasts that shook the ground. The deafening cacophony of explosions was filtered out by the power armor, and the shrapnel and debris were intercepted by the reactivated gravity shields.
"Advance, advance!" Craine urged.
The 47th advanced, conducting bio-scans as they pushed forward, eventually reaching the enemy's defensive position at the heart of the district.
In the center, amidst a maze of fortifications, the enemy had set up heavy weapons and emplacements, but they had no effect. Craine didn't care about them. As his tank floated over the obstacles, he pushed open the hatch and looked out at the grand building ahead.
Half of it had been obliterated by artillery fire.
"Go inside... see if there's anyone alive," Craine ordered his guards.
"Sir, the bio-scan shows…"
"Go look, please."
The guard was about to say that the bio-scan showed no signs of life, but noticing Craine's strange demeanor, he complied and entered the mansion to check.
The result was as expected.
"Report: no survivors inside. I found a few enemy corpses in the remnants of the bedroom and kitchen."
A sigh of relief escaped Craine's lips. He ducked back into the tank, murmuring to his crew, "There are no civilian bodies here. That means they escaped, right?"
The crew exchanged uncertain glances, unsure how to respond.
Unlike the soldiers outside, the tank crew knew the significance of this building. This was Craine's family home.
Just as Craine was about to speak again, a holographic image of Qin Mo appeared on his command display.
"Commander."
Craine saluted as best he could in the cramped space of the tank.
"I discovered something about your family at the spire," Qin Mo said, "but I'm not sure if you're ready to hear it."
At those words, Craine knew what was coming. He just needed to know if his family was still alive, so he nodded.
With a few taps in the air, Qin Mo transmitted a recording to Craine's armor.
Craine watched as his grandfather and the rest of his family entered a cage, their faces relaxed as though they were about to be saved. Then, as time passed, their expressions turned to terror as they realized the true nature of the cage.
Fire burst forth, turning blue as it consumed the air, and all inside were reduced to ash.
Craine trembled as he finished watching, his mouth opening as if to scream or weep, but no sound came. Only faint, stifled whimpers escaped his throat.
His emotions surged violently, then gradually subsided, leaving him hollow and expressionless.
"Exit the tank and prepare for teleportation," Qin Mo instructed. "Hand over command to your deputy for the time being. If you need to talk, I'll be in the stronghold's cave."
"They deserved it," Craine suddenly muttered coldly. "Why didn't they listen? Why didn't they come with me to the Underhive? Those short-sighted fools brought this fate upon themselves!"
Though Craine had grieved for his family, from his perspective, they truly deserved it. He had given them a chance, and they had squandered it.
"Are you sure you can continue leading?" Qin Mo asked.
"I'm sure," Craine replied calmly with a nod.
Qin Mo accepted this, knowing Craine was not someone easily swayed by emotion, and thus did not press further.
"Continue the fight," Qin Mo said, closing the communication.
Craine immediately operated his command interface, scanning for both allied and enemy positions. His voice steady, he issued the next order: "All units, continue forward. Remember our rule: in urban warfare, bio-scanning takes priority over movement."
The 47th resumed their advance, moving towards the next defensive position.
Along the way, their scans occasionally detected enemies hiding in the buildings along the street—fire points left to ambush passing forces.
But before these positions could even fire, the Guardsmen would swoop in, smashing through walls to eradicate the threat.
As the regular forces advanced, artillery strikes cleared out larger structures and defenses. Even without the ability to teleport strike teams instantly due to the Upper Hive's layout, the First Army's overwhelming power continued to sweep aside the enemy.