The massive armored hull of the Gabbro adjusted its posture in the void, entering a high orbit around Aigē VII Planet.
Outside the viewport, the sight of the planet was shocking: churning yellow-green miasma clouds covered the surface, interspersed with vast purple-black areas of decay.
Beneath the thin atmosphere, the outlines of twisted city ruins and massive swamps flowing with foul liquids were vaguely visible.
An invisible, malevolent psychic whisper, even through the thick adamantium hull and Void Shields, continuously permeated, attempting to erode the consciousness of living beings.
Inside the bridge, the atmosphere was solemn.
Hathor stood before the holographic tactical display, her molten-gold eyes gazing at the death-shrouded planet below.
Loken, a steady silhouette behind her, his visor's twin glowing optics silently scanning the constantly updating tactical data streams.
"Psychic suppression ritual, initiate," Hathor's voice was clear and calm, cutting through the bridge's hum.
As the order was given, a deep, grand hum resonated from deep within the ship's hull.
Ahriman's primary Librarian task force had already taken their positions in the warship's core psychic matrix chamber.
Giant runic arrays lit up on the deck, precise psychic amplification devices operated efficiently, and the Librarians' low chants converged into a powerful, stable psychic torrent, specifically aimed at countering the planet's Warp contamination.
This resilient psychic power, like an invisible searchlight beam, was precisely projected from the Gabbro, piercing into Aigē VII Planet's churning toxic clouds.
The yellow-green miasma violently churned and dissipated in the areas where it contacted the beam.
The suffocating chaotic psychic field on the planet's surface, formed by Nurgle's power, was forcibly suppressed by this mighty Imperial psychic force, temporarily carving out a relatively "stable" operational space.
The contamination was like viscous oil covering water, but at least it provided a foothold for the landing forces.
"Orbital drop commenced. Target: Pre-set landing zone 'Purification Point Alpha'," Hathor's voice carried an undeniable resolve.
"Operation Furnace, initiate!" Loken repeated the order on the comms channel, his voice like cold steel.
The massive drop pod launch array gates in the ship's belly roared open, revealing the churning, cursed world below.
Before the gates fully opened, a low binary chant echoed through the ship's internal broadcast system.
Several red-robed Adeptus Mechanicus Priests already stood in the observation corridor along the edge of the launch array.
They held thuribles, and wisps of smoke carrying the distinct scent of oil and metallic incense permeated the passage; other Priests carefully applied sacred machine oil connected to data cables onto the launch rails, restraint interfaces, and control nodes.
Their bionic eyes flickered with dense streams of data, and they chanted ancient prayers to soothe the machine spirits and implore the safe return of the steel bodies.
Concurrently, the elite veterans of the Ash Knights Fifth Company and the First Company's Terminator assault squad were in position.
Chaplain Heliu stood in the center of the chamber, clad in black Power Armor adorned with skull insignia, his helmet off. His weathered face bore the marks of piety and resolve, and his sharp gaze swept over each Astartes.
"We are the Emperor's Ash! We are the Furnace of Filth!" Heliu's voice, like an adamantium hammer, boomed in the confined chamber: "Behold! Below lies the toxic swamp where the forces of decay fester, the breeding ground where the source of filth spreads its corruption! They desecrate life, twist creation, turning the Emperor's sacred domain into festering sores! Such grievous sins can only be thoroughly incinerated by the Emperor's holy flame and steel!"
He raised his crozius arcanum, shouting: "Your armor is the bulwark of faith! Your weapons are the holy wrath! Your lives are offerings of devotion!
Remember your oaths! Remember your duty! You shall bring purification to the Emperor, and an end to defilement! Your victory shall become the sacred ash that covers all blasphemy!"
"Faith is our shield! loyalty is our sword! Death is our devotion! Ash is our destiny!" The Astartes responded in unison, their low voices converging into an unshakeable torrent of power, their eyes behind their helmet visors burning fiercely with faith and resolve.
The air was filled with the scent of coolant and the pure, scorching battle-lust ignited by their oaths.
The Terminator squad members stood at the forefront, their heavy Terminator Armor like fortresses carrying sacred will, power fists clenched, Storm Bolters and Power Weapons poised for action.
The Fifth Company veterans performed a final check of their Bolters and Chainsword, their movements carrying the solemnity of a ritual.
The newly equipped Gravis-pattern heavy support units hummed in standby, the Imperial Aquila and skull insignia etched into their thick armor appearing particularly grim under the cabin's warning lights.
The gates roared open, revealing the churning, cursed world below.
Dozens of massive drop pods, propelled by hydraulic systems, detached from their restraints, instantly spewing blinding plasma trails from their rear, like spears of judgment carrying the Emperor's fury, accelerating their descent into the abyss of defilement!
Inside the drop pods, the restraints hummed lowly amidst the violent vibrations of high-speed descent, the heavy Power Armor unmoving.
The faint glow of the tactical interface within the helmet visors illuminated the Astartes' iron-like, focused faces.
"Maintain formation, engage upon landing!" The Fifth Company Sergeant's voice echoed on the comms channel, cutting through the piercing shriek of the pod and atmospheric friction, "Prioritize clearing landing zone threats, establish a defensive line! For the Emperor!"
"For the Emperor! To Ash!" Earth-shattering war cries erupted in the confined space, a response to the Priest, an oath to the Emperor, and the final clarion call for the coming holy war of purification!
The drop pods pierced through the relatively thin miasma layer, suppressed by psychic power, accurately slamming into the designated landing zone—a relatively dry black rock platform on the edge of a vast festering swamp!
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
Deafening impacts erupted in succession! The massive drop pods violently slammed into the pre-set landing zone and its surrounding areas.
Scorching plasma streams instantly melted and vaporized the rocks and decaying vegetation below, and shockwaves, laden with scorching hot air and shattered rock, violently spread outwards, clearing a charred circular area.
The hatches burst open with a roar from the violent vibrations and internal explosive bolts!
Instantly, the suffocating stench of Aigē VII Planet surged into the pods—a pungent mix of rotting corpses, festering wounds, putrid refuse, and the sickly sweet, metallic odor unique to plague.
Even with the Power Armor's respirator filters and their gene-enhanced endurance, the Astartes immediately perceived the extreme defilement of the environment.
"Attack!" The Terminator squad's Commander was the first to step out of the hatch, his heavy mag-boots firmly planted on the scorching, cracked rock ground.
They were met not by an empty landing zone, but by Nurgle's minions already assembled there!
Rotting Poxwalkers, dragging their festering bodies, let out inhuman shrieks, surging like a tide from the mud and rock crevices at the edge of the landing zone!
Their bodies were bloated and oozing pus, putrid flesh hanging from exposed bones, wielding rusted farming tools or directly attacking with swollen, deformed limbs.
Interspersed among them were massive Nurgle warriors, covered in thick plate armor, wielding giant plague Warhammers or equipped with corrosive pus-sprayers.
Further away, some blasphemous constructs made of giant pustules and twisted limbs clumsily adjusted their direction, preparing to unleash defiled artillery shells upon the landing zone.
"Open fire! Clear the landing zone!" The Fifth Company Sergeant's command was concise and deadly.
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