As Feros led his honor guard toward the Tyrant, they were intercepted by Warrior Bugs. One leapt at him from five meters away, only to be skewered mid-air by a guard's power spear and flung aside. Under normal conditions, a single Space Marine could hardly slay a Warrior Bug so easily—unless they wore the indomitable Terminator Armor.
But there were countless Warrior Bugs, each more aware of the Tyrant's peril. More surged forward, joined by swarms of Knife Bugs, all striving to halt Feros and his guard. Three nearby battle squads rushed to his aid, engaging the other Warriors charging at him.
The Tyrant, sensing its attackers approaching, tightened its grip on its bone blades, all four muscular limbs brandishing the weapons as it barreled forward. When the distance between it and Feros dwindled to two meters, it swung viciously.
One of Feros' guards darted forward, raising his shield to deflect the descending bone blade, while his other hand brought a war hammer crashing down onto the Tyrant's abdomen. An energy pulse from the hammer's impact reverberated through the creature's massive form, sending it staggering back as though struck by an explosive charge.
Leaping from behind his guard, Feros drove his power spear into the Tyrant's head. The weapon's disruption field tore through the armored skull, piercing its body and pinning it to the ground.
On the central roadway, the surviving Knife Bugs and Warrior Bugs scattered in frenzy, either fleeing aimlessly or charging with blind fury, their movements no longer coordinated. Feros extracted his spear from the Tyrant's lifeless corpse, flicking the blood from its shaft as he advanced, clearing the path with his Cryers following closely, slaying any creature still in their sight.
The battle, however, was far from over.
These creatures were but the vanguard, hastily deployed. Ahead, beyond the fallen outer walls, swarms of Tyranids pursued their allies, pouring into the central corridor. In the distance, a towering, fifteen-meter Bio-Titan loomed—a monstrous presence. Yet, Feros and his Cryers were not alone; the First Company of the Blood Angels had joined them.
"Feros?" Captain Karlaen looked on in surprise. "I thought you'd been taken by those Minotaur dogs…"
"It's a long story." Feros dismissed the notion, his gaze falling on one of Karlaen's Space Marines whose arm lay severed. Feros turned to his Apothecary. "Apothecary."
The Cryers' Apothecary stepped forward, treating the wounded Marine, grafting an augmetic limb in place of his lost arm.
As they prepared for the next clash, Karlaen studied the Cryers, sensing something unusual about them. Even the Apothecary wore the impenetrable Terminator Armor, and nearly every one of them towered close to three meters, outmatching typical Space Marines.
Though they shared the bloodline of Sanguinius, the Blood Angels felt strangely distant from their long-lost kin. Karlaen pondered this estrangement, perhaps because of Feros's simple summons of "Apothecary"—where Blood Angels would have addressed their own as Sanguinary Priests.
Yet, whatever the reason, the Cryers had come to defend Baal. They did not deserve coldness in return.
"Thank you for your aid," Karlaen said, grasping Feros's hand. "You've arrived just in time. You missed the feast our brothers held a while ago."
"Regrettably, we were still on Cadia then," Feros replied, gripping his spear as he strode forward, resolute.
As allied forces retreated, mortal servants—blood thralls—rushed between the Space Marines, hurrying towards the fortress core. Several Blood Angels and their successor chapter brethren remained to guard the perimeter.
"When do we pull back?" a Flesh Tearers lieutenant asked Karlaen.
Karlaen hesitated, looking to Feros. Fully armed, the Cryers should ideally fall back to join Dante and fortify the inner defenses. Yet here they stood, ready to face the swarm.
"You should withdraw first," the lieutenant urged Feros. "The core is more vital."
"We will fall back," Feros replied, watching the swarm surge closer, "but only once the last of our allies passes beyond my spear."
The lieutenant sighed, rallying his own troops with a shout. "Prepare for battle!"
The Space Marines at the front of the central passage steeled themselves as the Tyranids closed in. Feros sent word to Tessa, commanding her to teleport the Cryers' attendants for resupply.
The *Storm Maiden* emerged from the warp above, deploying thousands of servants who hurriedly distributed munitions to the warriors below. Missile-launching Space Marines received fresh incendiary rounds, specifically crafted to incinerate the Tyranid horde.
When fully stocked, they unleashed a blazing torrent into the swarm, igniting a sea of fire. Knife Bugs disintegrated upon contact with the flames, yet their numbers seemed endless. Feros estimated that the swarm contained hundreds of thousands of Knife Bugs alone, not to mention the uncountable Warriors.
Fortress artillery soon joined the fray, shells detonating in the horde with deadly precision. As supplies ran dry, the attendants returned to the *Storm Maiden*, which again retreated to the warp.
Suddenly, Feros noticed the light fading. "Is it getting dark?"
"No," Karlaen pointed skyward, "there are simply too many of them."
Feros looked up to find the sky blotted out by the shadow of the incoming Tyranid flyers, darkening Baal as they dove toward the fortress. Thousands of anti-air batteries erupted in flames, illuminating the ground below.
With a grim smile, Karlaen turned to Feros. "Welcome to Baal."
And with that, he charged toward the advancing Warriors, followed by all Space Marines present, prepared to meet the swarm head-on.