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Chapter 24 – Descent of Fire
🕑 Added 2025-09-02 10:26:21 +0000 UTCChapter 24 – Descent of Fire
The launch bays of the Oath of Rectitude thundered with sound and ritual. Hydraulic clamps locked, servitors chanted binary hymns, and the Techmarines anointed machinery with blessed oils that smelled of iron and incense. Towering drop pods hung suspended, their armored shells dark and heavy, each one capable of carrying death from orbit to the ground below.
Gaius stood among them, helm under his arm, watching as his warriors took their places. Twelve Space Marines stepped into their pods without hesitation. Harness-seats of adamantium clamped shut across their armor, locking them down with a hiss of pneumatics. Thick restraints crossed their chests, shoulders, and legs.
Even Astartes needed the bindings. The shock of entry, the crushing force of impact, without the harnesses and gravitic dampers beneath each seat, even genetically-engineered warriors would be broken.
The central cogitators hummed at the core of each pod. Machine-spirits rested inside armored housings, their spirits placated with fresh litanies. They would guide the descent, fire the thrusters, and decide the moment when the armored petals burst open to unleash their passengers.
A Techmarine’s voice cut across the deck. “The Omnissiah watches. Machine-spirits blessed. Gyros aligned. Retro-thrusters readied.” His servo-arm swept a censer across the pod, smoke curling around its casing. Each word was both report and prayer.
Gaius stepped toward his own pod, a single-seat command variant, smaller but fitted with additional vox and tactical links. The clamps of his harness locked into place, pressure seals hissing around him. He let the restraints take his weight and opened a vox-channel.
He didn't bring his vehicle in the pod, as it won't be any of use for now.
“On my mark,” he said calmly. His warriors’ icons blinked green on his visor display. “Two. One. Go.”
The clamps released.
The pods hurled forward, launched from magnetic rails with the force of giant cannons. The ship’s gravity cut out in the instant of release. For a heartbeat, there was silence. Then came the fall.
Through the small view-slit, the world of Helisar-IV grew vast and burning. The pods streaked downward, wrapped in fire, their armored hulls glowing orange against the black of space.
While the Chat members chatted, outside the pod also being pulled by Gaius, to the planet at high speed.
Tony: “This is quite dizzying!”
Naruto: “They’re on fire! They’re literally on fire!”
Mindy: “…They're like inside or a meteorite falling down the planet.”
Saeko: “Terrifying.”
Gaius ignored them. His focus narrowed to the descent. His body pressed hard against the harness as the pod screamed through atmosphere.
The last second stretched out. Warning runes flared crimson. The pod shuddered. Retro-thrusters fired with a roar, slamming against gravity and slowing the descent from meteor-speed to survivable.
The impact came like a thunderclap.
The pod buried itself into ground already scarred with slag and wreckage. Dust and fire erupted outward. Inside, Gaius’ bones rattled within his reinforced frame, but he endured. The restraints released. Warning sigils turned green.
Hydraulics blew. The pod’s armored petals crashed outward, smoke and heat rushing in.
The Angels of Death stepped into war.
Meanwhile the Squad Drop pod landed first, and are already fighting.
The twelve Marines poured from their pods with the precision of a someone who have done this Hundred of times. Bolters rose in unison. A line of fire spat outward, explosive rounds cutting into the first enemy ranks that dared approach.
The defenders were already there, Skittarii, twisted remnants of the forge’s once-loyal protectors. Their augmetics were scarred with crude sigils of Chaos, their precision movements turned jerky and brutal. They advanced with dead eyes and raised weapons, fighting under the Iron Warriors’ yoke.
Las-gun lanced through the smoke. Bolter shells answered, each shot blasting apart metal and flesh.
A flamer roared, bathing a cluster of enemies in cleansing fire. Their screams echoed across the landing site.
A second pod hit the ground close by. Its ramp crashed open, and Gaius strode out into battle. His sword hummed in his hand, its edge glowing faintly, while his bolter barked in controlled bursts. His warriors closed formation around him, their discipline turning chaos into a firing line of iron resolve.
The corrupted Skitarii fell back step by step, dragged into cover behind wrecked machinery and half-collapsed walls. Gaius marked their retreat but pressed forward, knowing they would only regroup.
The Oath of Rectitude fed him location data across his visor display. They had landed within striking distance of the manufactorums, the sprawling heart of the forges where the Iron Warriors had entrenched themselves.
The chat blinked again.
Tony: “If you’ve got orbital pods, why not just slam them right into the enemy’s base? Save the walk.”
Gaius answered through the chat, so only the chat members can see it.
“Because the Iron Warriors built those defenses. The manufactorums bristle with hidden turrets, void-shielded bastions, and enough guns to cut even us from the sky. Better to strike close, carve a path, and bleed their strength.”
There was no reply. Even Tony could see the truth in that.
As the Marines advanced beyond the landing zone, they began to see the full cost of the enemy’s occupation.
Helisar’s people were everywhere, slaves driven in chains, beaten by overseers in spiked armor. Shock-prods cracked against their backs. Collars with glowing runes forced them to march in step, pulling carts of scrap and ammunition.
Some had been augmented crudely, their arms replaced with heavy lifters or saws, their bodies turned into tools until they collapsed. Overseers executed the weak without pause, letting corpses lie in the dust as warnings.
When the slaves saw the Marines, they froze. Tools clattered from their hands. For a long moment, none dared move.
Then one fell to his knees, hands trembling as he raised them to his chest. Fingers crossed into the shape of the Aquila, the Imperial double-headed eagle. His voice cracked as he whispered, “Angels… Angels of Death…”
The words spread like fire. Dozens followed. Some wept openly, making the Aquila with broken hands, their chains rattling. A chorus of hoarse voices rose up, half prayer, half sob:
“The Emperor’s angels… salvation… deliverance…”
Behind his visor, Gaius’ expression did not change. But his warriors stood taller, bolters raised, as though the people’s faith itself hardened their resolve.
For once, the Multiversal group said nothing.
Even Tony kept quiet, watching above Gaius, as starving men and women begged for deliverance in the shadow of the Angels of Death.
And now were Wondering Who is The Emperor.
The moment ended with the bark of enemy guns. Overseers pushed the slaves aside, Skitarii ranks forming again. More came, augmented slaves with weapons grafted crudely to their bodies, driven forward as expendable shock troops.
Bolters answered, cutting them down. Gaius led his warriors step by step, pressing forward toward the distant manufactorums. Each advance was bought with fire and steel.
End of Chapter 24 – Descent of Fire
Comments
Axel Gerard
When next chapter?
