Ten minutes later, Grey and his companions descended into the depths of the satellite housing the Astral Engine, carried by a piston system. They neared the main control apparatus, where Abaddon and his entourage were also converging. Just one corner separated the two parties from meeting.
Grey halted, projecting the image of Abaddon's party onto the wall so that everyone could see their approach. Captain Gaius raised his hand, signaling his soldiers to halt and hide. Despite their massive, powerful forms, the armored figures moved in utter silence, swiftly blending into the shadows behind the wall.
Greyfax drew her slender blade and loaded an explosive round into her hand crossbow, though she held off on using it immediately. Grott and his squad activated a rapid diagnostics check to ensure their armor and weapons would perform flawlessly in the coming skirmish.
"Here, take this," Grey said abruptly, pressing the gravity staff into Grott's hands.
Grott gave him a quizzical look. "Why are you giving me this?"
"Just hold onto it," Grey replied, tucking the staff into Grott's grasp before drawing his chainsword—a relic once wielded by Qin Mo in the underhive. Initially entrusted to Yao'en during the Tyron II assault, the blade eventually found its way to Grey, whose wielding of it inspired peculiar trust among allies.
"We'll ambush them here," Grey whispered. "Hold them off while I take out their commander."
Reflecting on Grey's prowess, both Gaius and Greyfax nodded in agreement.
"Can't the staff just crush the enemy commander with its gravity field?" Grott suggested, raising the staff.
"Now's not the time for explanations," Grey muttered, dismissing the notion as impractical. The gravity staff worked by gradually intensifying gravitational force over a split second—more than enough time for a savvy opponent to sense and evade it.
"Activate cloaking modules and prepare for combat," Grott ordered his squad.
The entire team vanished from sight, camouflaged by the cloaking tech in their armor.
"How come I didn't know your armor had cloaking modules?" Grey asked in surprise.
From somewhere unseen, a voice replied, "They were developed while you were still stationed on Agripinaa."
Grey nodded, scaling the wall to conceal himself atop the hundred-meter-high archway.
…
"I can't bear another second in this infernal maze," Sorax complained as they walked. "This place is vast, twisted—a labyrinth where I feel like a scurrying ant, lost without direction."
Each grumble gnawed at Abaddon's patience, his arm—bearing the Talon of Horus—clenched tightly. Yet he held his tongue, knowing Sorax was baiting him to react and dismiss him from the mission.
"Keep complaining," Abaddon growled. "For the sake of your service, I'll tolerate your prattle."
With a smirk, Sorax fell silent, and the group pressed on. Two hundred Chaos Space Marines walked at Abaddon's front and rear, their ranks diminished as scouting parties were dispatched to find shorter routes through the maze.
"Why haven't your scouts returned?" Typhus inquired.
"They likely lost contact—this place scrambles signals like a maze of magnetized iron," Abaddon replied, glancing back at a lieutenant who was monitoring the comms. The officer shook his head; the connection remained severed.
"Death may also be a possibility," Abaddon conceded, then signaled a squad of Terminators to take point. The six Terminators, encased in reinforced armor, would act as both shield and spear in case of sudden assault.
"We only found two vortex missiles earlier, one of which I returned to you. Use the remaining missile when we retreat," Abaddon said, already contemplating their escape strategy post-sabotage of the Astral Engine. Their forces would be hard-pressed against the Tyron Navy; even reaching the Mandeville point would be a gamble.
Typhus nodded, but their conversation was interrupted by a faint collision sound. Everyone heard it—two soft, muffled thuds, as if someone, or something, had moved stealthily.
A shared experience forged through millennia of warfare alerted them to an unseen threat nearby. The Terminators halted and fired ahead, while others took cover, prepared to return fire. A pair of sparks ignited in the blank space, followed by a spray of blood as a cloaked figure holding a staff shimmered into view, struck by the barrage. Before he could be obliterated, he teleported away.
Just then, a grinding sound issued from the armor of each Terminator. Abaddon realized the enemy had deployed a gravity weapon, but before he could shout a warning, the entire Terminator squad was crushed.
Eighteen Space Marines stepped from the shadows at the corridor's end, firing from cover. At their sight, Abaddon, Typhus, and Sorax were struck by recognition and disbelief: these warriors wore the ancient MK3 power armor—a relic from ten thousand years past, obsolete in the present millennium.