ZZZZZT!
HUMMM!
The Volcano Cannon charged far faster than anyone had anticipated. The Reaver-Eviscerator's specially crafted, biomimetic hand structure clamped firmly onto the heavy cannon's rear mounting base. The automaton hoisted the gargantuan weapon as if it were a light rifle and fired point-blank at the fortress.
The massive beam obliterated the entire defensive bastion in a single instant. At such close range, the fortress's void shields proved utterly incapable of even flickering to life. Inside, the massive caches of stored munitions were ignited by the sheer thermal intensity of the Volcano Cannon. The horrifying sympathetic detonation ripped the entire structure into the sky, with gargantuan chunks of masonry catapulted miles away by the force of the blast.
The Thousand Sons sorcerers managed to escape at the final second, whisking themselves away via psychic teleportation. The abandoned Iron Warriors, however, were left to share the fate of their mortal thralls and the fortifications they had so meticulously designed.
The cataclysmic explosion claimed over ninety percent of the traitor forces instantly; the remaining tenth were all Iron Warriors. While some unfortunate souls were atomized into dust by the blast, most of the "lucky" survivors were merely devastated by the crushing shockwave.
As for the Reaver-Eviscerator that had initiated the attack, it clambered back to its feet from amidst the smoldering ruins. Within its internal storage bay, another one-time repair module vanished. Nearby, the half-dead Iron Warriors watched in abject horror as the machine rose from the debris, its charcoal-grey armor devoid of even a single scratch, its internal structure miraculously pristine.
In the throes of their despair, they saw the sickly green arc of energy dance across every survivor. In a moment of sensory blur, they felt their consciousness fracturing, as if something deep within their very souls was finally and completely breaking apart.
After slaughtering every last Iron Warrior survivor, the Reaver-Eviscerator set off again, pivoting to advance along the complex tunnels exposed beneath the collapsed fortress.
As the first Reaver-Eviscerator encountered resistance and engaged in combat, the feedback data was instantly relayed to every other mechanical unit on the planet. This high-efficiency data synchronization plunged the traitors across all of Sortiarius into chaos. Perturabo and his gene-sons were astonished to discover that these colossal automatons had not only infiltrated the planet in force but were already breathing down their necks.
Within moments, the entire world erupted into a theater of war. Benefiting from their extreme autonomy, these reconnaissance units began to utilize swarm intelligence to analyze specific anomalies the moment they lost their central, primary command. Having received data regarding the enemy's ability to detect stealth modes, the Reaver-Eviscerators reached a swift tactical decision.
Every mechanical unit on Sortiarius shifted to Assault Reconnaissance Mode. They maintained their cloaking fields while simultaneously initiating active, aggressive strikes from point-blank range. Automata that had been operating independently began to converge, grouping themselves according to the scale of the enemy forces they encountered. No longer limited to small squads of two or three, swarms numbering hundreds of mechanical units began to tear across the planetary surface.
Faced with this terrifying adversary, the traitors unleashed everything in their arsenal. Individual Astartes lacked the capability to duel these ten-meter-tall mechanical behemoths, but that did not mean they were powerless. Beyond the armored columns commanded by traitor Astartes and crewed by mortals, swarms of Knight-class walkers and Titan Legions were deployed with immediate urgency.
In reality, however, of the six planets, only the former Prospero and the floating Sortiarius succeeded in stalling the advance of these machines. After relocating Sortiarius to the materium, Magnus had expended vast resources to restore the ruined Prospero. Once the Iron Warriors arrived, Perturabo had personally redesigned the planet's defenses. Sortiarius itself was swaddled in roiling currents of Warp energy; the planet's defenses existed solely within the consciousness of Magnus and his Thousand Sons.
Any Chaos sorcery cast on Sortiarius was amplified tenfold, achieving effects of staggering power. It was only the sheer material science of the Iron Men, whose physical laws were, in a sense, extraordinarily immutable, that prevented these sorceries from obliterating them. As it stood, only the most powerful sorcerers could leave even superficial scars on their hulls. Had the target been an Imperial Warhound Titan, a single warp-guided Chaos storm would likely have reduced it to scrap.
Inside the Great Library on Sortiarius, Perturabo sat before Magnus. He watched the projection from the communications array, intently observing the largest battlefield on the planet.
On the crystalline plains of southwestern Sortiarius stood a towering, majestic city: the ancient Tizca. Ten millennia ago, Magnus had paid the price of his own shattered soul to pluck this city from Prospero. By the time of the relocation, Tizca had already been a pockmarked shadow of its former self, with less than half of its structures surviving. Countless opulent palaces had crumbled, and ruins littered the landscape. After the migration, the Thousand Sons had labored to restore it. While it lacked the sublime perfection of the Word Bearers' Perfect City, Tizca remained undeniably magnificent.
Now, this war-torn city was being ravaged once again. Only this time, there were no Space Wolves in sight.
Hundreds of Reaver-Eviscerators were locked in a meat-grinder of a battle against the traitor Knight Houses and Titan Legions serving the Iron Warriors. These automata were powerful, possessing devastating destructive output and incredible resilience. Yet, when the opposition escalated to Reaver or even Warlord Titans, these ten-meter-tall units began to falter. Before the fury of massive Volcano Cannons and super-heavy plasma cannons, the Reaver-Eviscerators appeared fragile.
But toe-to-toe brawling was never the intended function of these scouts. Their tactical role necessitated exceptional mobility. The ten-meter-tall machines advanced in loose, dispersed formations, leaping and tumbling through the city streets. Their massive chassis moved as if devoid of weight, vaulting over obstacles with ease. By contrast, the traitor Titan Legions seemed sluggish and cumbersome.
The dissociation cannons could not punch through Titan-grade void shields directly, but once they bypassed the shields, the situation shifted. Ignoring the walls of Tizca, the Reaver-Eviscerators surged into the city streets. The Thousand Sons legionaries refused to allow the Iron Warriors' Warlord Titans into the city, fearing that their massive weaponry would reduce the entire urban center to rubble.
Frustrated, the Iron Warriors were forced to deploy only their Knight walkers, Warhound Titans, and Reaver Titans into the city. It was a tactical error that earned them an immediate and bloody reprisal. For the traitor forces tasked with the defense, it was nothing short of an unmitigated disaster.
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