The Ember Vow slipped out of the Warp like a blade from a scabbard, its reinforced hull still humming from Shawn's liquid Haki woven into its bones. Ahead, the Forge World Belgaris Omicron burned.
Data-feeds streamed in:
Manufactorums in flames.
Macro-cannon batteries silenced.
Ork kill-cruisers swarming in low orbit.
"Status of the Forge World?" Shawn asked, his voice low.
Magos Eristan's vox grille crackled. "Defenses are collapsing. The ruling Fabricator-General is refusing off-world assistance, citing doctrinal purity. Translation: they don't want outsiders meddling with their forges."
Shawn's jaw tightened. "If they fall, the Orks get their forges. If they get their forges, the sector burns."
Valen stepped up beside him, armored robes flowing, Haki flickering around his blackened fists. "Then we force their hand. Save them before they realize they needed saving."
Drop Zone — Forge World Surface
Thunderhawk ramps slammed open. Custodes in gleaming gold leapt into the smoke, their Armament Haki glowing like molten steel. Grey Knights followed, Aegis armor crackling with psychic wards. The Salamanders hit the ground like meteors, the heat from their Haki warping the air.
Shawn landed last. His Spirit Projection flared, liquid Haki coalescing into a massive hammer that cracked the ferrocrete beneath him.
Orks came in waves — green-skinned, bellowing, guns barking crude shells. The first volley of shots splintered harmlessly against the combined Armament Haki of the Custodes wall.
"Push forward!" Shawn roared.
Battle Flow
Vulkar swung his hammer in an arc, each strike bursting with enough Haki to send shockwaves tearing down streets.
Tahak blurred through gaps, Observation Haki letting him read Ork movements before they even raised their guns.
Basur crushed Nobz underfoot, every blow a contest of raw willpower.
Valen extended his psychic senses, drawing Warp energy into his strikes — tempered, not corrupted, by his Haki. Psyker-blue lightning wove with the inky blackness around his fists.
The Custodes formed an unbreakable phalanx, golden shields wrapped in jet-black Armament Haki, absorbing Ork fire until the Grey Knights stepped past them, Force Halberds cutting deep, Haki reinforcing each psychic blow.
Mid-Battle
A massive Ork Mek stompa lurched into the avenue, weapons blazing.
Shawn sprinted forward, Spirit Projection shaping into chains of pure Haki that lashed around its limbs. With a shout, he pulled, muscles straining, dragging the machine forward into Vulkar's waiting strike. The Salamander's hammer smashed through its chestplate, molten slag spraying outward.
From the ruins, a vox-ping hit Eristan's internal link. "Outsiders… your interference is unorthodox… but effective."
Chaos God's Whisper — Unseen Realm
Far above, in the currents of the Warp, the Ork Waaagh's psychic field was not the only presence.
Khorne snarled, displeased at mortals gaining too much power outside his blood-soaked creed.
Tzeentch considered how to twist this new alliance into an eventual betrayal.
Nurgle chuckled, wondering how decay might creep into even the strongest will.
Slaanesh… was simply curious how far Shawn's strength could go before breaking.
They did not act in unity — but all agreed: if Shawn took Belgaris Omicron, his army's strength would grow again.
Forge World Heart
Hours later, the team reached the gates of the central forge cathedral. The Mechanicus Skitarii within lowered their weapons slowly, confusion in their machine-eyes.
The Fabricator-General's voice came through vox channels: "You have trespassed, you have killed without sanction… and you have saved my world. State your purpose."
Shawn stepped forward, armor scorched, Haki still steaming from his gauntlets. "I don't care for your politics. I care about survival. Join me, and you'll have the means to keep your forges burning forever. Refuse… and the next Ork Waaagh will finish what this one started."
Silence followed. Then, the massive gates ground open.