The power of a Greenskin has always been inextricably linked to the Waaagh! field.
As the originally recognized Warboss of Karl-2, the Waaagh! field of the entire space station used to converge upon Chandler. This energy supported him in pushing the "I fink so" power of a Big Mek to its absolute limit. However, over the past few months, the energy gathering on him had grown increasingly sparse.
His strength withered day by day, and the progress on deciphering the mecha had ground to a complete halt. He realized that if he did not end his meditation now, his title as the Boss of Karl-2 would soon exist in name only.
"Speak!" Chandler grabbed a Deathskull Big Boss by the collar and hoisted him into the air. His voice boomed like a thunderclap, making the surrounding Meks tremble in fear.
"What exactly has happened on Karl-2 during this past month?!"
"Why is my power getting weaker every single day?!"
The Deathskull Big Boss shook like a leaf. Stuttering, he spilled everything that had occurred over the last half-year. He detailed the rise of the Hokage Clan through the Elf-Gork championship, Siss's consolidation of the three major clans, the repelling of the humans and Tyranids, and the current full-scale expansion against the Bad Moons. Not a single detail was left out.
As Chandler listened, the malice on his face intensified. He had imagined countless possibilities: the human fleet breaking through the outer defenses, or the Tyranids devouring half the station and causing massive casualties. He had even considered some brave weakling stepping up to challenge his position. But he had never expected Siss.
Siss was the "honest Ork" who usually kept to himself and never meddled in anything outside of Ragnar's direct orders. Chandler had always assumed he was an overseer without ambition; he never imagined Siss would have the nerve to flip the very heavens of Karl-2 right under his nose.
"Good... very good."
Chandler gnashed his teeth and slammed the Big Boss onto the ground. The fury within him could no longer be suppressed. He raised his hand, and the plasma cannon on his back charged instantly. A blinding flash of blue light streaked out, and a guard was vaporized into nothingness.
He raised his iron claw, venting his rage frantically. Only after killing over a dozen subordinates did the turbulence in his chest subside slightly. He knew Siss was not like those idiots who only knew how to charge. An Alpha-level psyker peer with ambition was far more troublesome than a human fleet or those cursed bugs.
He glanced back into the depths of the laboratory at the ultimate mecha—now 98% complete—and a trace of reluctance flashed in his eyes. But in his mind, the position of Warboss of Karl-2 was far more important than any machine.
"Pass down the order!" Chandler roared, his voice echoing through the entire Deathskull camp.
"Assemble! Follow me to the core district!"
"I want to see exactly what this freak thinks he's doing."
The news of Chandler's early return swept through the high-ranking circles of Karl-2 like a hurricane. Inside the Hokage Clan's command tower, Raynor's eyes lit up. He had finally reached this stage.
He immediately issued orders to the Imperial expedition fleet at the edge of the system: the entire fleet was to move out and attack the outer defenses of Karl-2 with full force, posing as if they intended to take the entire planet in one swoop.
At the same time, aboard the Measure of Discipline, Luna saw Raynor's fleet moving toward Karl-2. She immediately grasped the situation. She had waited for this day for far too long. Raynor was usually so cautious; for him to launch a total assault meant there was an opening. This might be their best chance to take the station.
"All ships, heed my command!" Luna stood before the star map on the bridge, her finger stabbing the coordinates of Karl-2. Her voice was cold. "Target: Karl-2. Proceed at full speed for a general assault! This time, victory must be ours!"
In the void, the Imperial fleet—comprising five cruisers and over sixty escort ships—formed an assault formation. Macro-cannons charged, and void shields flared to life as they raced toward the outer defensive line. A total offensive against Karl-2 had begun.
Meanwhile, in the meeting hall of the Karl-2 core district, the atmosphere was delicate. Chandler stood on one side with his elite Deathskull guards, all weapons on their power armor unlocked. Siss stood on the steps of the hall, green psychic energy swirling around him as he looked down at the former absolute ruler of the station.
Less than fifty meters separated them, but the air felt frozen, and even the wind had stopped. Siss looked at Chandler and felt a sudden, awkward sensation—the feeling of an adulterer caught in the act. He had always prided himself on being above the "filth" of power struggles, considering himself Ragnar's most loyal deputy. Yet now, he had secretly built his own force, swallowed the Waaagh! energy that should have belonged to Chandler, and even struck at the neutral Bad Moons. Being caught red-handed made him feel deeply uncomfortable.
Ultimately, Chandler spoke first. His voice filtered through his tactical mask, carrying a metallic rasp and suppressed rage:
"Siss, did you really do all of that?"
Siss took a deep breath, pushing down his awkwardness. There was no longer any point in hiding. He straightened his back and met Chandler's gaze, speaking one word at a time:
"Yes, I did it. But so what?"
A flicker of fanaticism and the desperation of a cornered beast flashed in his eyes. "Chandler, I've fallen in love with this feeling. I can't go back to how things were."
Standing behind Siss, Raynor couldn't help but frown. Is this still Warhammer? If you're going to fight, just fight already.
Just as the two were about to continue, a Weirdboy came running in, his face pale as he shrieked, "Boss Siss! Boss Chandler! It's bad!"
"News from the perimeter! The 'Humie' fleets have moved out in full force!"
"They're attacking our defenses from two sides!"
The hall erupted in an uproar. Chandler instinctively frowned. Years of leading the defenses of Karl-2 made him roar out of habit: "Don't panic! Deathskull fleet, return to the outer line immediately! All clans—"
His words cut off abruptly. Raynor, along with the Big Bosses of the Blood Axes and Evil Sunz, had silently moved to stand behind Siss. Their weapons were pointed vaguely toward Chandler and his Deathskull retinue. The meaning was unmistakable:
From now on, we only listen to Lord Siss.You, Chandler, can no longer command us.
Chandler's pupils constricted. He snapped his head around to stare at Siss on the steps, his fury finally exploding: "Fine, Siss! If I had come out a few days later, would all of Karl-2 have belonged to you?!"
The Deathskull guards immediately raised their weapons. On the other side of the hall, the Goff and Snakebite Boyz who had arrived upon hearing the news rushed to stand behind Chandler, raising their own arms. The forces of three clans instantly formed a solid battle line.
Behind Siss, the Boyz of the Hokage, Blood Axe, and Evil Sunz clans also raised their weapons. Muzzles pointed at one another, energy cells hummed, and Waaagh! fields collided in the center of the hall with a piercing, sizzling sound.
The atmosphere was a powder keg, even as an external enemy hammered at the gates. The fuse for civil war had been lit.
Siss's heart skipped a beat.
He finally realized that the Hokage Clan had placed him on a roasting spit, step by step. His original intention was merely to develop his own influence to balance Chandler and fulfill the overseer mission Ragnar had assigned him. But power is like the most potent poison; once touched, it is impossible to quit.
More importantly, this power brought him a tangible explosion of strength. In the "praise" and adulation of subjects like Tooth-Rich, he had gradually lost himself. He glanced at the palm of his hand, a trace of loneliness appearing in his eyes. Now, even if he stood up and claimed he had no desire to challenge Chandler for the position of Warboss, no one would believe him.
Out of the corner of his eye, he scanned the Boyz of the three clans behind him. Their eyes burned with fervent light, eager for action. They expected him to lead them, to defeat Chandler, and to become the true master of Karl-2. They anticipated a grander Waaagh!, more loot, and more slaughter.
There was no turning back. Siss slowly closed his eyes. When he opened them again, all hesitation and awkwardness had vanished, replaced by cold resolve and a burning ambition. Since there was no way back, he might as well see this through. He would accomplish what Boss Ragnar had not!
He thrust his staff upward, and black psychic lightning erupted instantly, pouncing toward Chandler like a slithering black serpent.
Chandler sensed the lethal threat immediately. Without thinking, he slammed the switch on his wrist. A pale blue anti-psychic shield, specifically designed to counter psychic attacks, expanded in front of him. This was equipment he had spent half a year tinkering with specifically to restrain Siss, capable of immunizing him against all psychic attacks below Alpha level.
But he had still underestimated the current Siss.
The moment the shield deployed, a second bolt of pitch-black psychic lightning shot from Siss's palm.
Double Lightning!
The speed was so great that, aside from Raynor, no one present could track its trajectory.
BOOM!
The first bolt slammed into the anti-psychic shield. The pale blue barrier emitted an overburdened groan, its surface spider-webbing with cracks. Although it wasn't shattered instantly, the massive impact sent Chandler and his shield flying backward.
Immediately after, the second bolt struck the crumbling shield, shattering it completely. The sequence was too fast to see clearly. The strength of these two was on an entirely different level compared to the other Greenskins on the scene.
The moment Siss made his move, the Hokage Clan fleet—already poised for action in the starport—launched its attack.
The newly completed carrier, dubbed the "Terror Ship" by the Greenskins, sailed out of the shipyard. This behemoth had barely left the port when it used its top-tier engines and cloaking functions, crafted by Evil Sunz Meks, to abruptly appear above the Deathskull Clan's starport.
Rows of hangar doors slid open, and hundreds of Ork bombers swarmed out like a cloud of hornets. A rain of bombs instantly began to fall over the Deathskull port. Explosions merged into a single continuous roar as Deathskull warships, unable to even start their engines, were turned into heaps of burning scrap metal.
Simultaneously, the Evil Sunz' speed fleet, coordinating with the Blood Axe assault fleet, launched a fierce offensive against the camps of the Goffs and Snakebites.
With the human fleet at the gates, the total civil war of Karl-2 officially erupted.
Standing on the steps of the hall, Raynor watched the Greenskins slaughtering each other below, his body trembling with excitement. His plan had finally reached its most critical step!
The collision of psychic lightning and plasma beams blasted concentric rings of destructive shockwaves across the core district square. After only a few exchanges, Siss and Chandler were fighting with genuine, murderous fury.
Siss's psychic offensive was like a violent storm: pitch-black lightning, psychic blades that severed everything, and telekinetic force that warped space. One move followed another, hammering down on Chandler relentlessly. Combined with his enhanced senses and psychic precognition, Siss's combat prowess was staggering.
Raynor watched from the sidelines, tongue-tied, realizing that Ork psykers were also freakishly powerful. Like the Tyranids, the Greenskins' ancient genes, their unique collective psychic network, and their simple minds allowed them to use psychic powers recklessly without fearing the backlash of the Immaterium. Furthermore, their gods, Gork and Mork, were not like the one rotting on the Golden Throne; they were entities that actually roamed the Warp. If any foolish Chaos God dared to enslave a Greenskin soul on a large scale, they would have to face a beating from those two cosmic hooligans.
The Siss of today was no longer the overseer content to be Chandler's second-in-command. The surging Waaagh! field had pushed his psychic abilities into an unprecedented realm. Every strike carried enough power to tear through an Imperial main battle tank.
But Chandler had come prepared. As the top Mek on Karl-2, he had installed no fewer than ten anti-psychic shield generators within his power armor to counter Siss. Whenever a psychic attack neared, he would snap a shield open.
"Reaction!"
The pale blue barriers accurately intercepted the attacks. Although the shields shattered under the intense psychic pressure, they bought him enough time to dodge. He pulled back to maintain distance while firing his massive plasma cannon back at Siss, roaring in fury:
"Siss, are you mad?!"
"You actually dare to strike me? Did that fat bastard Ragnar tell you to do this?!"
A searing plasma beam scorched past Siss's side, melting a massive hole in the wall behind him. Siss did not respond, but upon hearing Chandler insult Ragnar, his offensive grew even more frantic. After dodging an attack with a blink-teleport, Siss condensed an ice spear in his hand and lunged it fiercely at Chandler.
Meanwhile, Chandler's mind raced during the heated exchange. The more he thought, the more certain he became of his guess. Siss had always lacked interest in power. Without Ragnar's secret authorization, he wouldn't have the guts for this. It had to be that fat bastard back on Dorito, fearing that once the mecha research succeeded, Chandler would become too powerful. Ragnar wanted to use Siss to get rid of him!
At this thought, Chandler's rage flared even brighter, yet his movements remained precise. He knew that, currently, he held no advantage against Siss, whose psychic powers had completely spiraled out of control.
Using the cover of a psychic explosion, he spun around. The thrusters on his back erupted with powerful force, propelling him like a cannonball toward the laboratory not far behind.
"Trying to run? Hmph!" Siss snorted coldly. He wasn't about to give Chandler a chance to breathe. The air around him boiled as he transformed into a green stream of light, chasing after Chandler.
Just as Chandler dove through the heavy alloy gates of the workshop and the doors began to hiss shut, Siss's staff began to spin rapidly in his hands.
"Lightning Whirlwind Slash!"
Following his roar, the scattered wreckage, alloy steel plates, and scrap armor in the vicinity were drawn in as if by a violent gale, converging frantically toward the center of the hall.
In a single second, a massive metal tornado ten meters in diameter formed. Driven by Siss's psychic power, the tornado's destructive force became even more terrifying. With a high-pitched whistle that tore through the air, it blew toward the laboratory. Everywhere it passed, nothing remained.
WHOOSH!
The violent cyclone charged into the depths of the laboratory with peerless momentum. Machine tools, furnaces, and parts racks along the way were ground to dust. Thick metal shavings and dust instantly shrouded the entire workshop.
Siss stood before the laboratory, his body tense, staring fixedly into the smoke-filled depths. He could sense a horrifying Waaagh! field rising within the dust—one saturated with the scent of iron and faith. A terrifying beast was awakening.
Feeling uneasy, Siss channeled his psychic energy again, condensing the metal fragments dropped by the cyclone. A massive iron sphere, over three meters in diameter, gradually took shape. Siss held it aloft with one hand as it spun frantically, accumulating kinetic energy.
Finally, Siss leaned back and hurled the sphere forward.
A Waaagh! spell... another massive iron ball!
The initial velocity of the sphere was frighteningly fast, dispelling the thick smoke as it traveled. But in the next second, a giant, heavily armored iron claw reached out from the dust. It caught the high-speed spinning scrap ball with precision. No matter how the iron ball rotated, it could not break free from that iron grip. Finally, amidst the ear-piercing sound of twisting metal, it was crushed into a lump of scrap iron.
The dust slowly cleared, and a thirty-meter-tall iron giant appeared in everyone's sight.
The silhouette of this mecha was like a square pyramid, wider at the bottom and narrower at the top, standing like a mountain of iron. At the very peak sat the hideous visage of Mork, with two eyes made of red lenses emitting a bloodthirsty crimson glow. Its entire body was welded with weapon arrays; four twin-linked "Big Shootas" were mounted on its shoulders, their muzzles still faintly glowing with heat.
In its left hand was an Ork flail—a combination of a chainsaw and a heavy hammer—with every link of the chain welded with spikes. Its right hand featured a pair of massive metal jaws lined with fangs: the signature weapon of Ork mechas, the "Snappa." Those terrifying jaws, capable of biting through the limbs of a Titan, emitted a tooth-grinding metallic friction with every snap.
And embedded in its abdomen was an exaggeratedly large, three-meter-caliber super-heavy cannon—the "Smasha."
Seeing it, Siss felt an instinctive urge to bow down in worship.
"A Gargant..."
Within the Hokage Clan ranks, Raynor's pupils constricted as he watched the iron giant, whispering the name under his breath. He hadn't expected Chandler to have actually built such a thing.
This was the ultimate ground weapon of the Ork race, the iron avatar of Gork and Mork. It was the Ork equivalent of the Imperial Reaver-class Titan, far surpassing the Knight-class mechas. The mere fact that such an Ork machine could be constructed meant it had the tacit approval of Gork and Mork; it was the ultimate crystallization of the Ork Waaagh! field and the "I fink so" power.
It was no wonder Siss felt the urge to worship it. For an Ork, this mecha was the manifestation of their gods in the mortal realm.
"What... what exactly is this thing?" Siss's voice carried a hint of undeniable awe. He could feel a horrifying power within the machine capable of crushing him—power gathered from the Waaagh! faith of the entire Deathskull Clan.
But his awe lasted less than half a second.
The red lenses of the Gargant's head flashed, and a massive iron foot slammed onto the ground, causing the entire core district to tremble violently. Its left arm swung suddenly, and the spiked flail whistled through the air, smashing toward Siss like a bolt of lightning!
Siss had no time to think. He instantly condensed three layers of psychic shields before him. Yet, when the flail struck, the shields shattered one by one like glass under a hammer. The massive impact bypassed the protection and slammed into his body. Siss was sent flying, crashing heavily into a steel pillar, and a mouthful of green blood sprayed from his lips.
"Siss! I thought you were supposed to be a tough fighter?!" Chandler's roar echoed from the Gargant's cockpit, filled with manic laughter.
He piloted the unfinished ultimate mecha toward the fallen Siss, and every weapon on its body opened fire simultaneously!
The roar of the shoulder-mounted Big Shootas, the hydraulic hiss of the Snappa, and the charging hum of the Smasha cannon composed a symphony of destruction. Chandler had gone completely insane, ignoring the fact that they were in the core district of Karl-2 as he poured out fire without restraint. The concentrated firepower was destroying everything; the meeting hall was riddled with holes, and the dome collapsed. The hard alloy walls were ground into powder under the bombardment of the heavy cannons.
At this moment, Siss demonstrated the terrifying control granted by his surged psychic power. He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and blinked-teleported continuously through the fire. Each flash allowed him to precisely dodge Chandler's predicted strikes. His psychic vision had already locked onto every weapon interface of the mecha. The moment Chandler's muzzles began to charge, Siss had already anticipated where the shells would land. Even when he was occasionally grazed by stray rounds, the psychic shield around him instantly deflected the shrapnel and shockwaves.
"Is this all you've got, Chandler?!" Siss roared. He clasped his hands in front of his chest, and five nearby Weirdboys suddenly collapsed from exhaustion.
A green fireball formed in his palms like a miniature sun. Carrying destructive power, it slammed toward the Gargant's cockpit.
BOOM!
The psychic fireball exploded against the mecha's chest, and a blinding green light swallowed the entire hall. But when the light faded, everyone was shocked. Not a single scratch remained on the Gargant's armor. A layer of pale green luminescence flowed across the mecha's surface, having withstood Siss's horrifying strike.
This was the most terrifying aspect of the machine. Its shields no longer relied on any mechanical generators. The Waaagh! field, gathered from every Ork who believed in Chandler, acted directly on the mecha itself, making it indestructible.
However, inside the cockpit, Chandler did not feel at ease. On the contrary, his expression darkened. He could feel that the mecha's strength was far lower than his expectations. The field armor, which should have absorbed Siss's psychic fireball without effort, had fluctuated violently during the impact.
The reason was simple: nearly half of the Waaagh! field of Karl-2 had been siphoned away by Siss. The faith energy converging on Chandler and the mecha was only about two-thirds of its peak.
More importantly, this Gargant was not yet its complete form. He had to end this quickly. If Siss found a weakness in the mecha, the consequences would be unthinkable.
While the deathmatch between Siss and Chandler reached a stalemate in the core district, the outer defensive lines of Karl-2 had completely collapsed.
A week of purges against the Bad Moons, followed by the total civil war between the two Warbosses—combined with the fact that the "Elf-Gork" games had distracted most of the Greenskins—had caused the space station's defenses to drop to an all-time low. Nearly one-fifth of the turrets on the outer perimeter had been destroyed during the previous encirclement of the Bad Moons. Most of the remaining ones were unmanned, and many weren't even loaded with shells.
Furthermore, Karl-2's defenses were circular, and the direction of the Imperial fleet's assault was specifically chosen by Raynor. They struck the segment where the defensive installations were most severely damaged. With the core of Karl-2 preoccupied by infighting, no one was there to pilot the station's rotation to bring the intact defensive sectors into position.
Even the middle defensive ring, after the fierce battles between the three major clans and the Bad Moons, had lost nearly a third of its facilities. Most shield generators were paralyzed, and the resident Boyz had either run to the core to watch the duel between the two bosses or were still busy fighting the remnants of the Bad Moons. No one was paying attention to the movements outside the system.
On the bridge of the Measure of Discipline, Luna stood before the star-map table, watching the fleet's advance routes—all marked with green lights. A sense of suspicion flickered in her heart. She had originally prepared for a bloody battle, as the Greenskin defenses of Karl-2 had forced her fleet to retreat several times in the past.
But this time, her fleet had crushed the outer lines with almost no effort. The turret arrays that once gave her headaches were either silent or offered only sporadic fire. The defending Greenskin fleet was even more pathetic; they scattered at the first sign of contact, unable to organize any semblance of resistance.
"My Lady Regent, we have breached the middle defense ring. The core district of Karl-2 is directly ahead."
"The landing forces are assembled. Five Imperial Knight squads and ten Skitarii Vanguard regiments are ready for deployment."
Her adjutant bowed and reported, his voice filled with ill-concealed excitement.
Luna raised her hand, her fingertip tracing the coordinates of the core district on the star map. A glint of Tzeentchian blue light flashed in her eyes. As she neared the core, she keenly sensed two terrifying, heart-stopping powers clashing violently in the center. One was the primal, wild Greenskin psychic energy; the other was a titan-like iron force condensed from countless threads of faith.
"I see..." A smile finally appeared on Luna's face.
Having feared a trap, Luna now understood everything. "These xenos are actually fighting a civil war!"
This was a once-in-a-thousand-year opportunity granted to her by the Lord of Change! With the two strongest Greenskins locked in a deathmatch and the station's defenses paralyzed, she only needed to sit back and reap the rewards. By eliminating these two greatest threats, she could finally seize this Greenskin nest that had plagued the Brevis Sector's counter-offensives.
Once successful, her prestige in Brevis would reach its zenith, making her the natural choice for the Grand Marshal of the Cleansing Crusade. This would surely please the Master of Change and earn her even greater Chaotic power.
"Launch!" Luna turned around, her cold voice carrying an unquestionable decisiveness. "All units, advance to the core district at full speed! This time, I will thoroughly purge this space station defiled by Greenskins!"
At her command, countless drop pods rained down like a storm, piercing through Karl-2's Waaagh! field and plunging toward the core. Following a series of urgent alarms, Saint Galus Knights stepped out of their pods with heavy strides. Volcano cannons and melta cannons were primed, and the thrusters of Lancer-class Knights were preheated.
PDF Chimera armored vehicles formed neat assault formations, their heavy bolters spitting tongues of fire, tearing any stray Greenskin Boyz into shreds. Skitarii Vanguards held their radium rifles, advancing with the stability of precise machinery. The blazing jets from Purifier flamethrowers turned Greenskins hiding in the ruins into charcoal.
Along the way, they met almost no organized resistance. The space station was filled with Orks slaughtering each other—Bad Moons and Hokage Boyz were still clashing, while Deathskulls and Evil Sunz had just begun their own fray. Seeing the Imperial forces charge in, only a few Greenskins opened fire on the "Humies," failing to form a unified front.
Luna personally piloted her custom Knight, the Shadow of Change, following the lead units into the core district of Karl-2. Upon closer inspection, the Shadow of Change radiated a strange, multicolored glow, and at its joints, flesh seemed to be writhing beneath the metal.
Charging into the core, she finally saw the source of those two powers and the thirty-meter-tall Gargant mecha in the center of the hall. A familiar Waaagh! aura that made her teeth itch with hatred radiated from the machine.
She instantly remembered the ambush her fleet had encountered outside Karl-2 about two months ago. It was this exact Waaagh! aura—the horned Ork warship that had suddenly appeared. It had nearly destroyed her flagship, and she herself had almost fled the ship under the pressure. It was the greatest humiliation of her military career.
"It's you! That wretched Greenskin beast!"
Luna's voice, filled with uncontrollable rage, echoed through the hall via the mecha's external speakers. She raised her Knight's melta cannon, unlocked all weapon systems, and barked orders over the comms channel:
"All units, concentrate fire on that Ork mecha! Tear it apart first!"
Volcano cannons from the Knights, heavy bolters from the armored vehicles, and radium volleys from the Skitarii poured toward the Gargant like a tidal wave.
But a second before the barrage landed, the Greenskins who were just locked in a deathmatch did something Luna never expected.
Siss ceased his psychic assault, instantly teleporting to the side of the hall to create distance from Chandler's mecha. The Boyz of the Hokage, Blood Axe, and Evil Sunz clans—who were at each other's throats moments ago—along with the Deathskulls, Goffs, and Snakebites, instinctively lowered their weapons. They turned in unison, their crimson eyes fixed firmly on the human forces intruding into the battlefield.
Even if they had blood feuds and a civil war that wouldn't end until death, at the moment the Humies broke in, every Greenskin's thought was uncannily identical.
Kill these intruding Humies first!
"WAAAAAUGH!!! KILL DA HUMIES!"
Someone shouted first, and instantly, the Greenskins in the entire hall erupted with a deafening Waaagh! roar.
Hokage ninja Boyz dove from the air, slaughtering their way into the Skitarii formations. Deathskull Meks activated the mechas around them, bringing over a hundred war machines to life with imposing momentum. Red Boyz of the Evil Sunz revved their high-speed bikes and charged in howling. Blood Axe commandos vanished instantly, flanking the Imperial rear. The Goff and Snakebite brawlers raised their massive choppas and slammed into the Imperial lines, ignoring the incoming fire.
The psychic energy around Siss surged once more, green light condensing in his palms—but his target was no longer Chandler. Chandler's Gargant also turned, its three-meter-caliber Smasha cannon aiming directly at Luna.
Enemies who were trying to kill each other a second ago now stood on the same side with perfect, unspoken coordination.
In the shadows of the hall, Raynor watched this sudden, massive free-for-all. He glanced up at Luna's Knight, which bore the distinct features of Tzeentch, and nodded with satisfaction.
Seeing the three parties about to engage in a final struggle while his own fleet continued to "mop up" the remaining Greenskin vessels at a leisurely pace, he couldn't help but remark:
"All of them are leaders... I didn't mean to make this such a big deal!"