Zander
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Chapter 27 – The Beast in Chains
🕑 Added 2025-09-05 03:26:51 +0000 UTCChapter 27 – The Beast in Chains
Warsmith Baldarun stood at the heart of his manufactorum, staring at the Monitor showing Gaius and Ultramarines getting closer. Dust drifted from the ceiling. Chains rattled where they hung from gantries overhead.
He clenched his gauntleted fist, the servos whining against the strain. he had thrown everything into their path, servitors bound to the walls, Skitarii programmed to fight to the last, traps woven into every corridor. Grenades wired to plates, gas vents hidden beneath floors, melta-charges strung to entire walls and psychological torture, though the last one he thinks has little effects but still does at least to try slowed them down. But His traps had killed none, it only made them more careful. It wasn't enough.
Never enougrh.
He spat on the floor, the taste of ash and metal thick on his tongue. “Damn you, Ultramarines… damn you all.”
There was a time when he commanded thousands. Iron Warriors had marched at his side, their formations unbreakable, their guns carving cities into dust. But that was long ago, before Ventemar.
The memory clawed at him even now. The Fortress of Ventemar, the daemon world of Medrengard, his failure burned across the warp itself. He had miscalculated, underestimated the foe, and the fortress fell. His brothers branded him weak, unworthy, a shame upon Perturabo’s name. His command stripped, his rank shattered, his honor spat upon, Baldarun was cast out.
Exile. No chains, no cell, only the slow death of watching everything he had built crumble away.
He had wandered the Eye of Terror with what remained of his company, their numbers dwindling raid by raid. From thousands, to hundreds, to less than a hundred now. A hundred Iron Warriors clinging to the scraps of his command.
No. Not even a hundred.
His jaw tightened. He had left twenty aboard the ship above this world, guarding his orbital support, holding the line while his forge-work below was completed. But the Ultramarines had come down on them like wolves. In a single strike, those bastards destroyed the ship and everyone aboard.
“Not one survivor…” Baldarun muttered. He felt his teeth grind. “You’ll pay for that, sons of Guilliman. By iron and blood, you’ll pay.”
Now he had only eighty Iron Warriors left within these walls, stretched thin across the the manufactorums, And he is now calling them to concentrate at the core area, enough to match the Ultramarines head-on even kill them, but he was not sure of doing that without casualties. That was why he had relied on traps and machines, why he hid his warriors until the time was right. Every skirmish, every ambush was meant to bleed the enemy, to slow them, to soften them.
But still they came.
He had watched the monitor, seen the blue and gold armored figures moving like an unstoppable tide. They advanced at a steady, unhurried pace, slower than he expected, slower than he planned for. At first he thought it was caution. Then he realized the truth.
It was discipline.
They weren’t tired. They weren’t strained. Their slow march was rest. Every careful step, every measured advance gave them time to breathe, to regain strength, to keep their formation whole. His traps weren’t exhausting them. They were keeping them sharp.
Baldarun slammed his fist against the console, the metal bending beneath the blow. “Cursed sons of Ultramar… you dare mock me with your calm? You dare crawl through my fortress as though it were a training ground?”
He had planned to finish his work in secret. The Obliterator monstrosities, his true creation, his path to reclaiming power. Flesh and machine fused into living weapons, creatures that could turn the tide of war. He was close. So close. But the Ultramarines had come too soon.
He had no time left.
If they reached the core, if they breached the last chamber, everything would be lost. His exile would end not in glory, but in shame. Forgotten. Crushed beneath Guilliman’s lapdogs.
His eyes turned toward the final gate. Behind it, chained in darkness, lay one last weapon.
The Hellbrute.
A twisted brother entombed in metal, once a proud Iron Warrior, now a maddened beast bound in sarcophagus and steel. The chains had kept it locked for years, its roars echoing through the halls like thunder. It hated him. It hated everything. But it would kill for him, because that was all it could do.
Baldarun’s lips curled into a grim smile. “Yes… you’ll have your war, beast.”
He strode across the chamber, his armor scraping against the floor, and pressed his hand to the rune-lock. Massive gates groaned as they opened, gears shrieking in protest. Steam poured out, and with it came the sound of fury.
The Hellbrute stood chained to the wall, its frame a nightmare of metal and flesh. Tubes of black ichor ran into its body, feeding organs that should have died millennia ago. One arm ended in a massive power fist, each finger like a piston. The other held a multi-melta, its barrel glowing faint red from constant heat. Its head was a fusion of skull and helm, daemonic eyes glaring beneath layers of iron.
It roared, a sound like a furnace screaming, straining against the chains that bound it. The walls shook, bolts rattling from the ceiling.
Baldarun raised his arms wide. “Go, my beast! Rip them apart! Drown this place in their blood!”
The locks disengaged. Chains fell away.
The Hellbrute surged forward, roaring in blind fury, smashing through the gates and charging into the manufactorum’s corridors with thunderous steps.
Gaius felt it before he heard it.
A deep rumble, like the growl of the earth itself. Then the roar came, shaking the very walls of the manufactorum, a sound so raw and filled with hate that even his battle-hardened brothers paused for a heartbeat.
He raised his voice through the vox, sharp and clear.
“Hellbrute!”
The squad moved instantly, dispersing into firing positions. Bolters came up, melta bombs primed, eyes sweeping the shadows.
Then the beast came.
The Hellbrute came into view, a walking abomination of steel and tortured flesh. Its plating was the dull gray of forged iron, scarred by centuries of battle, with jagged chevrons of yellow and black striping its warped carapace like a cruel parody of hazard markings. Hydraulic pistons hissed as its massive claw flexed, each finger thick enough to crush ceramite, while a multi-melta jutted from its other arm, glowing with searing heat. Beneath the armored sarcophagus, the twisted face of a once-proud Iron Warrior could still be seen, stretched in an eternal scream that mingled fury with agony. It was not merely a war engine, it was a siege given form, a relentless monster that embodied the Iron Warriors’ pitiless creed.
It smashed through the manufactorum’s walls in a storm of sparks and steel, molten fragments flying as it burst into the corridor. Its multi-melta blazed, a beam of searing heat tearing across the floor, liquefying steel where moments before a Marine had stood. Its massive power fist swung wide, slamming into a support pillar and shattering it like glass.
Tony’s mouth went dry. “It look like demon fused with machinery.” seeing a person face with only anger and fury.
Mindy’s hands flew to her mouth. “It doesn’t even look alive. It’s like… it’s screaming just to stay awake.”
Naruto’s fists clenched tight, shaking. “What… what the hell is that thing?" Getting unsettled by it's nightmarish Looks.
Saeko’s eyes stayed fixed on the beast, her voice low. “…There's no life in that beast eyes. Only anger and blinding Fury.”
“Fire!” Gaius commanded.
Bolters roared. Dozens of shells hammered into the Hellbrute’s frame, sparking off armor, tearing into exposed flesh. It staggered but did not fall. Instead, it roared louder, charging forward.
One Marine leapt aside a moment too late. The Hellbrute’s fist caught him mid-step, crushing him with a sickening crack before hurling the broken body into the wall. His armor shattered, blood smearing the steel.
“Brother down!” another shouted, already moving. He knelt by the fallen Marine, hands steady as he retrieved the gene-seed from the broken body. No hesitation. No wasted motion. Within moments, he was back in formation, bolter raised once more.
“They lost a Person now..” Mindy's voice was low, tight.
Naruto's fists trembled, voice cracking as he shouted, “That!… that wasn’t right. Nobody deserves to die like that.” especially when he knew that they were the good guys.
Tony let out a slow breath, his tone clipped. “Nobody indeed deserves to die like that. But That’s what they're fighting for, to save this planet their will be someone who will fall.”
Saeko's eyes followed the squad, steady but faintly unsettled. “…They didn't even faltered when one of their died.”
The squad did not falter.
“Left flank, melta bombs!” Gaius ordered.
Two Marines surged forward under covering fire, their bolters spitting death. One hurled a melta bomb, the charge magnetizing to the Hellbrute’s leg. The explosion tore through armor, blowing half the limb apart. The beast stumbled, roaring in fury, dragging itself forward on one good leg and one ruined stump of flesh and steel.
Gaius moved then.
He charged, power sword blazing. The Hellbrute swung at him, the power fist crashing down. Gaius rolled aside, the floor shattering where he had stood. He rose, slashing once, twice, his sword carving deep lines into the daemon-flesh, cutting through the cables that fed it strength.
The Hellbrute roared again, blind with fury, its multi-melta swinging toward him. Heat flared. Gaius leapt, the beam searing past him, melting the wall into liquid iron. He landed atop the beast’s ruined frame, boots digging into twisted armor.
With a roar of his own, Gaius drove his power sword down, straight into the sarcophagus core. The blade pierced metal and bone alike, cutting through the prison where the Iron Warrior still lingered.
The Hellbrute convulsed, flailing wildly, smashing itself against the walls. Daemonic essence screamed, a howl that rattled every chamber. Then, with one final shudder, it collapsed, the light in its eyes burning out as black smoke poured from its wounds.
Silence fell.
The Ultramarines regrouped. One by one, they stepped to their fallen brother. Briefly, they bowed their heads, a moment of respect in the middle of war. The gene-seed secured, his sacrifice noted, they turned their eyes forward once more.
Gaius stood over the smoldering corpse of the Hellbrute, his blade still glowing with heat. He said nothing. But in his silence was a vow, a promise carved in iron.
This loss would be answered.
In the Emperor’s name, Baldarun would fall.
The squad tightened formation, their boots striking the floor in steady rhythm as they advanced deeper into the manufactorum, toward the Warsmith’s final bastion.
Comments
Nicholas Rambusch
I’m honestly excited to see fury’s face when Tony shows him some footage
Nicholas Rambusch
Thanks for the chapter
