Infinite Metaverse

Chapter 35: Preparing for Landing 

Surface of Loswell VII

Loswell VII was a desolate, gray planet. Its thin atmosphere was filled with traces of oxygen and radioactive dust carried by faint winds. The surface was covered in iron-gray gravel and rubble, with no signs of life to be seen.

Despite its lifeless appearance, the planet had a complex terrain. Massive, scar-like canyons crisscrossed the surface, making Loswell VII look like a dried-up scab. These canyons were riddled with caves and tunnels carved out by ammonia rivers, creating a labyrinthine network.

Hidden deep within one of these canyons was a bulky transport ship, its hull covered in blasphemous symbols and violent graffiti.

It was daytime on Loswell VII, but the star's light was barely visible through the thick atmosphere. The canyon where the transport ship was hidden was shrouded in near-total darkness.

Inside the ship's control room, scattered banners and scrolls covered the floor, inscribed with dense Colchisian script. The room was dimly lit by flickering candles, filling the air with a nauseating mix of blood and burnt incense.

When Asagiri Hiroshi first entered the control room, the stench nearly made him vomit.

He cautiously glanced at the towering, terrifying figure seated in the center of the room.

The figure's grotesque armor shimmered eerily in the candlelight. The dark red pauldrons were etched with intricate black prayers, and the edges of the armor were adorned with sharp metal spikes.

The figure wasn't wearing a helmet. His pale, bald head was covered in twisted tattoos, and his face was hidden in shadow. His gauntleted fingers tapped rhythmically on his knee.

Asagiri knew his name—Krolfa, the commander of the three transport ships.

A powerful Chaos Space Marine.

Asagiri and the others had been summoned to the control room. Facing this fallen Astartes, everyone was on edge, too afraid to speak first.

The only sound in the oppressive silence was the tapping of Krolfa's fingers. Finally, he lifted his head, revealing a pale, sinister face, and spoke in a low, menacing voice.

"They want to trap us on this planet."

Krolfa's eyes were a sickly yellow, and his teeth were filed into sharp points. His grin was unsettling, and Asagiri couldn't bring himself to look directly at him.

No one responded. Krolfa continued in a slow, deliberate tone.

"They're about to land… The Ultramarines are cautious. They'll probe our defenses bit by bit."

"These heretics are clever… They won't engage us in a drawn-out battle in the caves and tunnels. Once they locate the transports, they'll teleport back and call for an orbital strike."

At this, he looked up, his gaze piercing as he addressed the group.

"When that happens, we'll all be buried under a barrage of high-explosive shells from that Lunar-class cruiser."

Krolfa's tone turned mocking.

"You claim to have been sent by the Ruinous Powers to assist me. So, what brilliant ideas do you have to get us out of this mess?"

In the early days of the Horus Heresy, Warmaster Horus, believing that the enemy of his enemy was his friend, actively sought alliances with outcasts, mutants, and pirates within the Imperium, inciting them to rebel and destabilize Imperial rule. Thus, these groups were loosely aligned with Horus in the early stages of the war.

Krolfa clearly classified the Reincarnators as part of this ragtag alliance.

Asagiri swallowed hard, his mind racing.

Having spent some time in the Warhammer 40K universe, he had learned how these genetically enhanced warriors fought and understood their teleportation technology.

He believed Krolfa's assessment of the Ultramarines' tactics was accurate. Now, he needed to find a way to disrupt those tactics.

"My lord, I can provide you with excellent warriors. As long as there's enough food, I can produce an endless supply of soldiers!" A middle-aged man with a bushy red beard and a scholarly appearance exclaimed excitedly.

Asagiri couldn't help but scoff at the man's suggestion.

Krolfa also smiled, revealing his sharp teeth. In a dark, amused tone, he said.

"Bielinski, I remember you. Your little bugs are amusing. They might work against mortals, but they're too weak to handle Space Marines."

Asagiri glanced at the man clutching a gray metal canister and thought, 'Idiot. This is the Warhammer 40K universe. The exoskeletons of those xenomorphs can't even withstand ordinary bullets, and their strength and agility are barely above human levels. They're no match for bolters and power swords.'

The red-bearded man pursed his lips, clearly displeased but unwilling to argue further.

Ignoring the others, Asagiri steeled himself and spoke.

"My lord, I can disrupt their teleportation for thirty minutes."

"Oh?" Krolfa's interest was piqued. "How? Do you have some ancient jamming device?"

Asagiri explained, "No, my Domain Expansion—uh, I mean, my psychic ability—can disable teleportation within a five-kilometer radius."

Krolfa narrowed his eyes, studying the thin, black-haired young man. "A psyker who doesn't need a psychic amplifier… Interesting."

Asagiri added, "I can only disrupt their teleportation back to their ship. As for the Space Marines left on the surface, that's up to you, my lord."

He met Krolfa's gaze, confident that the cunning Chaos Marine would understand his implication.

Krolfa chuckled. "I'm starting to like you, clever mortal. Don't worry, the blessed warriors of the Gods will keep the Emperor's lapdogs grounded. Once they're entangled with our forces, the Ultramarines' commander won't dare call for an orbital strike—unless he doesn't care about his own men."

With that, Krolfa waved his hand dismissively. "Enough. All of you, get out. We need to prepare our defenses and welcome the Emperor's dogs."

The Reincarnators filed out of the control room.

As they walked through the dimly lit corridors, the distant screams and moans of victims echoed through the ship, sending chills down their spines.

Asagiri guessed the Word Bearers were torturing prisoners for amusement.

Suddenly, a tall, slender woman in black robes approached him. She wore a hood and carried a long, cloth-wrapped object on her back. In a low voice, she asked.

"Jujutsu Kaisen?"

Asagiri was startled. He turned to face the woman, whose sharp features and deep-set eyes gave her an air of danger.

"You know?" Asagiri asked.

The woman smirked. "I heard you slip up earlier. Not just Asians watch anime, you know."

She chuckled softly. "But you'd better be careful. If your Domain doesn't work, I'm sure Krolfa will crush your skull before the Ultramarines' guns do."

With that, she walked away.

Asagiri stood still, watching her retreating figure. She was undeniably attractive, with her sharp jawline and striking features, but something about her felt dangerous.

She was right. Despite his confident demeanor in front of Krolfa, Asagiri wasn't entirely sure his Domain could disrupt the Ultramarines' teleportation. If it failed, the Word Bearers' wrath would fall upon him.

Asagiri glanced at the long, cloth-wrapped object on her back. From its shape, he guessed it was a sword.

Meanwhile, the red-bearded scholar clutched his metal canister tightly, muttering to a hunched, gray-robed woman beside him.

"Krolfa doesn't trust me. None of them do. These fools don't understand the potential of the xenomorphs. With a live Space Marine, I could create a xenomorph hybrid unlike anything the galaxy has ever seen. Damn them, these ignorant, short-sighted idiots…"

The hunched woman, her face obscured by a black veil, hissed softly.

"The battle is about to begin… Bielinski, we don't need Krolfa to give us a live Space Marine. We can get one ourselves, can't we?"

Her voice was strange, almost inhuman, with a rasping, sibilant quality.

Bielinski replied, "I know, but you've seen how powerful those gene-enhanced monsters are. Even injured, they could crush us with a single blow. And dead Space Marines are useless—the chestbursters need living hosts."

The hunched woman hissed, "Patience, Bielinski. Patience. Our chance will come."

***

On the Teleportation Deck of the 'Sosalan'

Captain Setheus Flavorus stood calmly in the center of the deck, holding a tactical slate. The green dots on the screen moved steadily, showing the positions of the vanguard squads.

Reports from the surface continued to stream in. Some squads were encountering heavy resistance, while others had already reached their objectives.

Flavorus' mind worked rapidly, analyzing the incoming data. This ability to process vast amounts of information and make quick decisions was a trait inherited from their Primarch, Roboute Guilliman.

Overall, the vanguard squads were making progress, but as they advanced through the caves and crevices, enemy resistance intensified. Heavy weapons fire from the transports forced some squads to call for orbital support.

Flavorus stroked his chin, deep in thought.

Beside him, rows of Ultramarines in their deep blue armor stood at attention, ready for deployment.

A Chaplain with a brown beard and white temples walked down the line, pinning small red seals to each warrior's chest plate. These seals bore the warriors' personal oaths of moment.

When the Chaplain reached Fu Qinghai at the end of the line, he paused, noticing the White Scar's bone-white armor. He patted Fu Qinghai's shoulder and said with a smile.

"Good luck, warrior of the Khan."

"Thank you, sir."

Finally, Flavorus made his decision. He raised his head and declared.

"Update the coordinates. Follow me. We deploy now!"

The tech-priests in their red robes immediately began adjusting the teleportation parameters with the help of servitors.

Flavorus donned his helmet and led the drop pods into the deployment bays.

On the underside of the 'Sosalan', hatches opened, revealing rows of sharp-nosed drop pods. Their engines ignited, and the pods shot toward the planet's surface like golden meteors, disappearing into the atmosphere.

*****

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