Chapter 336: The Savior – Someone Trying to Kill Me?
Aboard the Dreamweaver
A critical wartime meeting had been urgently convened on the bridge of the Dreamweaver.
Floating in the air were numerous holographic projections.
Among those present were:
The Necron Overlord Anrakyr the Traveller, Zahrasusa and his elite warriors, Dante and a company captain of the Blood Angels, as well as Big Barrel, Duke, Plue, Arye, and other key leaders from the Savior's armed forces.
These figures would be coordinating the activation of the Grand Prism across various worlds to repel the oncoming Leviathan Hive Fleet.
At that moment—
The atmosphere was tense.
Furrowed brows and grave faces filled the bridge. A piece of bad news had just arrived:
The Leviathan Hive Fleet had once again accelerated.
It would now arrive even earlier than expected—shrinking the already narrow window of time available for the allied forces to act.
Not far behind the Savior, Tacco received an emergency strategic update from the Department of War. He quickly transmitted the revised operation plans to the leaders of the various participating forces.
A heavy silence fell as everyone focused on the contents of the updated plan.
"Everyone should have seen the new orders," Eden began grimly. "We now have only three days left…"
He swept his eyes across the assembly.
"No matter what, we must activate the Grand Prism within that time—or the assault from the Leviathan Hive Fleet will obliterate our only chance to strike back!"
"And then… no one will be able to stop the Great Devourer. The Hades System, the Tomb Worlds nearby… they'll all be destroyed. After that, it'll be the Baal System, the Charalton Region, and countless other places."
"Entire planets. Countless lives. All melted down into slurry to feed the Tyranid swarm..."
A heavy pause.
"...But hope still remains."
"The fate of our homes—and of all life—rests in our hands."
"We will fight shoulder to shoulder until we complete our mission. And we will strike a mortal blow to those damned bugs."
His gaze sharpened with resolve.
"Remember: three days. Let the battle begin!"
Even as his voice fell, the sharp screeches of the Tyranids echoed from several of the projection feeds.
The enemy had already reached the battlefront.
Before the images faded, the warriors—both human and Necron—offered firm, silent nods to Eden, Dante, and Anrakyr.
They would fight to the very end.
...
Planet Laesius
Canoness Magda led the nomads in a brutal push through the Tyranid swarms, forcing a bloody path back to the cathedral defense line.
But when she arrived—she was stunned.
"By the Emperor... is this a miracle?"
The cathedral defense line had been completely transformed.
The once makeshift fortifications had been replaced with towering, cannon-lined walls. Sacred Titans and armored war machines stood ready at every position.
From the edge of the walls, a blood-soaked figure approached.
It was a Flesh Tearer—his presence immediately put Magda and her Sisters of Battle on guard.
The Flesh Tearers were notorious for their savagery in war, feared for turning on both foe and ally alike.
There were even whispered rumors that they had once wiped out an entire human world.
As such, the Inquisition had long kept them under surveillance.
This warrior removed his helmet—he was none other than Gabriel Seth, Chapter Master of the Flesh Tearers.
Seeing the wariness in their eyes, he spoke gently:
"Canoness, you need not fear. The Black Rage that once cursed the Flesh Tearers has nearly vanished. We will not harm anyone again."
A surprising warmth flickered in his gaze.
"And it's all thanks to the envoy sent by the Savior—Sister Maya. She lifted that dreadful curse from us."
He looked toward several approaching figures, eyes filled with reverence and gratitude.
Not long ago, the Flesh Tearers had been on the brink of collapse under the Tyranid assault—until Maya arrived with a miraculous medicine and saved them all.
Canoness Magda turned to see a radiant woman approaching.
Clad in dark-gold power armor, her golden hair glimmering in the light, her expression calm yet full of strength and compassion.
She was a high-ranking Canoness from the Ecclesiarchy of Urth—Sister Maya.
Her presence was awe-inspiring.
And with the Savior's rise to power, the Sisters of Urth were now equipped with the finest weapons and armor—surpassing even those of the Imperial Creed's own Sisters.
"May the Emperor's light shine upon us forever, Sister Maya," Magda offered.
Maya responded with composure,
"Sister, under the golden sun and the Savior's light, may we draw strength together."
Indeed—
The Ecclesiarchy of Urth had become an unshakable power among the ranks of the faith.
Maya turned to Gabriel Seth.
"As I've told you before… past sins don't simply vanish.
You and your brothers must continue to change—to rewrite the world's perception of your Chapter, to cleanse your shame."
"And if time permits… come hear more of our sermons."
"Gladly," Seth said sincerely.
"My brothers and I will listen to the Savior's gospel with all our hearts."
Canoness Magda watched this scene in a daze.
This Sister had managed to subdue the notoriously uncontrollable Flesh Tearers through mere preaching—and they were now obedient?
Soon after, the once-dreaded Flesh Tearers were seen helping the nomads, a sight that left many stunned.
In truth—
Maya's message was built upon a reformed doctrine crafted by Eden himself.
It emphasized redemption, hope, and rational faith—not pain, self-flagellation, or madness.
This new approach offered psychological comfort instead of torture.
Unlike the brutal methods of the traditional Ecclesiarchy…
Where some penitents were equipped with self-flagellation devices, whipping themselves constantly to atone.
Worse still, the Penitent Engine—a twisted machine where the guilty had their limbs removed, organs replaced, and skulls carved out—
Their minds were fed a constant stream of Emperor imagery and hymnals, their bodies kept in constant agony through injections and electro-shock.
They became mindless, tormented engines of war.
Such grotesque machinery was often suspected to be creations of Slaanesh's corrupt influence.
No wonder the Imperium harbored such fertile ground for Chaos.
Even among everyday believers, many had to endure horrific punishments in the name of faith.
No wonder the Chaos Gods had grown so powerful in the 41st millennium.
Their fuel? Humanity's endless extreme emotions.
And those same emotions had become an infection—gifting the Ruinous Powers ever more strength.
Seeing this, Eden took steps to reform the Ecclesiarchy of Urth.
Without overturning doctrine, he shifted it toward compassion, hope, and civic virtue.
And now, under the light of the golden sun, it preached truth, goodness, and beauty—guiding the masses into a better life.
The Flesh Tearers, amid brutal war against the Tyranids, found peace through Maya's sermons.
They embraced the Savior's doctrine.
They found solace.
They vowed to help others.
To earn salvation.
Maya and her medical Sisters stepped forward to treat the wounds of both nomads and fellow Sisters.
Suddenly—
Canoness Magda heard the nomads begin to chant:
"By the Emperor's name, we accept the Savior's grace!"
Some held newly received Savior scriptures, kneeling awkwardly before Maya, reciting the few prayers they knew.
In that moment—Magda felt defeated.
She had toiled for years, traveling tirelessly with her mobile convent, preaching to these same nomads.
And they had ignored her.
Uninterested in the Emperor.
Unwilling to bow.
But now—Maya had been here mere hours and had already converted them.
A miracle.
And one that made Magda and her Sisters look incompetent.
She couldn't understand—how had Maya done it?
The truth was simple.
Maya told them the Tyranids were about to devour the planet.
They would lose their homes.
But—
The benevolent Savior would grant them salvation, if they worshipped the Golden Sun and the Savior.
In return, they'd be moved to a better grazing planet.
One with richer algae.
One where the Savior's domains would buy their protein blocks at a higher price.
The nomads, grateful beyond words, converted on the spot.
In essence—
Maya had wielded Eden's most powerful tool: money.
She offered shelter.
No forced labor.
No self-mutilation.
Just a better life.
Who wouldn't worship a god like that?
And once faith took root, the Savior's doctrine would slowly deepen—until belief became genuine.
Fanatical, even.
After all, in a galaxy like this, there were few "gods" who truly cared.
Transport ships had already withdrawn.
Maya could only move the nomads into the Sisters' ships for now.
The next Tyranid wave would soon arrive—
And these civilians had no place on that battlefield.
Before long—
Thunderhawks roared across the sky.
Plue arrived with the War Angels to reinforce Laesius, carrying the Savior's latest orders.
In the Hades System, many worlds relied on the power of the Grand Prism.
Laesius was no exception.
But unlike the other worlds, which used relay stations to power cities and factories—
Laesius used ancient crawler vehicles called the Sun God-class, with massive solar sails to harvest Prism energy for nomadic needs.
These crawlers formed the critical link between the Grand Prism and the planet Eros.
And now—
Under the devastation of the Tyranid swarm, only one Sun God-class crawler remained operational—stationed near the cathedral.
Plue informed Maya, Seth, and Magda that no matter the cost, this final crawler must be protected.
Without it, the energy beam from the Grand Prism would never reach the gas giant known as Eros.
The Savior's order was absolute:
Protect the Sun God crawler at all costs—even if everything must be sacrificed.
Soon after, under Plue's command, the War Angels, Flesh Tearers, and Sisters of Battle formed new defense formations.
They were preparing for the final battle of Laesius.
Meanwhile…
Over the planet Tartarus, Necron Crypteks, legions of Necrons, and Blood Angels arrived.
Suspended above the crimson world was the colossal energy-collection platform—the Grand Prism, resembling a small asteroid, lined with massive lenses on all eight sides.
However, their objective wasn't inside the Prism itself—
But rather within the ruined cityscape below: a buried control chamber that had lain dormant for millennia.
Fortunately, the Savior's support forces had held this world just long enough.
All the allied warriors needed to do was teleport to the surface, rendezvous with the defenders, and locate the control room buried within the ruins.
Activating it would fulfill their mission.
But even as they deployed to Tartarus—
Far away, the defenders stationed at the refining platforms of the gas giant Eros were under immense pressure.
The Tyranid horde had launched yet another wave of reinforcements, threatening to breach the defenses.
Yet the Savior's armed forces and the Blood Angels stationed there held fast.
Not a single Tyranid had broken through their line.
Reinforcements were close—
A wave of eerie green shimmered in the void.
The Mephrit Dynasty's fleet had arrived.
Zahrasusa himself led the Necron forces, deploying massive Doom Scythes to cleanse the skies.
He and his Royal Guard teleported into the heart of the swarm-infested transit conduits, carving a path toward Eros's core.
Together, mankind and the Necrons were fighting with all their might to bring the Grand Prism online—an ancient energy weapon platform that could shift the war's tide.
...
Aboard the Dreamweaver
As most of the holographic projections flickered out, only three remained: Eden, Dante, and Anrakyr.
Eden turned to them.
"Now it's our turn to fight..."
Their target was the most fortified front: the industrial zone of Frdia.
There, they would seize the final component needed to activate the Grand Prism—
The Spire Control Chamber buried deep beneath the sector.
Long ago, the spire had stood aboveground, but over countless centuries, it had sunk into the earth.
In time, a vast industrial district had grown around it.
But all that prosperity was now ashes.
Frdia had been the first planet overrun by the Tyranid vanguard fleet.
Before the Savior's forces could arrive, it had already fallen.
The Tyranids had claimed it completely.
Eden now had no choice but to lead an elite strike force, alongside the Necrons, into a direct assault.
The battle for Frdia began.
The Dreamweaver's drop bays opened.
A swarm of heavy warcraft, Thunderhawk gunships, and Necron craft launched toward the planet below.
In the ashen-yellow skies—
The Tyranid aerial forces churned like massive black storm clouds.
Thunderhawk squadrons plunged into the darkness.
Bolter fire and claws clashed in the sky.
Frdia's atmosphere became a battlefield of flesh and steel.
Alongside the human forces were Necron Doom Scythe fighters, carving a path to the surface.
Aboard one of the gunships—
"These damned bugs are truly terrifying..."
Eden, clad in dark-gold armor, crushed a leaping Gargoyle in his gauntlet, smashing it aside.
Peering through gaps in the black cloud, he saw the planet's surface—and it was horrifying.
The once-small oceans were completely gone.
Every living thing—plants, animals, even microbial life—had been consumed by the swarm.
All that remained was a barren yellow-brown wasteland crawling with Tyranids.
But Eden's real concern was the industrial district.
He looked toward it.
It was entirely covered in a layer of thick chitin, transformed into a Tyranid processing center.
Massive capillary towers stretched skyward, siphoning biomass into the hive network.
To protect this vital center, the Tyranid Hive Mind had stationed elite bioforms and created an environment thick with living walls and writhing tendrils.
The real challenge—
Such a dense and constricted terrain made it impossible to deploy Redeemer Titans or Imperial Knights.
The battle would be hell.
Their only option was to cooperate with the Necrons—
And lead elite strike squads directly into the spire, cutting their way through the swarm.
This was the first time in the Hades Campaign that humanity was no longer defending—
But taking the offensive—pushing into the Tyranid's own core territory.
It would be far more difficult than simple defense.
And there would be blood.
There was no retreat. Only victory or death.
As they neared the ground—
Eden leapt from the gunship, his ceramite boots slamming into the ground.
Beside him, Dante landed heavily.
Suddenly—
Eden sensed something—a faint threat.
Something was watching him. From another dimension.
He realized quickly—
It was the Necron Deathmarks.
Sniper-assassins with massive, single glowing green eyes—able to phase through space and unleash devastating neuro-disruptor rifles.
Their subatomic compressed lepton beams could annihilate the synaptic systems of any organic being.
Few survived their kill shots.
"...So the Traveller hasn't given up trying to eliminate me," Eden muttered to himself.
He knew Anrakyr had deployed them.
Officially to hunt Tyranid synapse creatures—
But more likely… to be used as a knife in the back, should the Necrons decide to betray him.
Eden gave Dante a subtle glance—
A signal to stay alert.
Vrrmm—
Anrakyr stepped from a shimmering portal with his Royal Guard, arriving effortlessly beside Eden.
Eden couldn't help but feel envious.
The Necrons' teleportation technology was leagues beyond mankind's—
Able to function even beneath the suffocating shadow of the Hive Mind.
Humanity stood at a technological disadvantage.
Currently, the Savior's forces lacked such dimensional transport tech.
But not for long.
Eden had already laid the groundwork. Soon, they'd reverse-engineer and acquire the Necrons' secrets.
For now, however—he could only stay cautious.
This battle could be against both Tyranids and Necrons.
Fortunately, Eden had numbers on his side.
But they couldn't afford to be careless.
"Something troubling you, Savior?"
Anrakyr's smug voice cut in.
He had his Deathmarks hidden, poised to act if necessary.
With the battlefield under his control, he was already calculating how to eliminate the Savior once the Grand Prism was activated.
He believed it would be easy.
"I was just wondering…" Eden said calmly, "...when my reinforcements would arrive."
As if on cue—
A rain of fire streaked down from the cleared skies.
Drop pods slammed into the ground in rapid succession.
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.
From within, Carter led the Thunder Guard, clad in heavy armor, forming up behind Eden, Anrakyr, and the Royal Guard.
The sight unsettled the Traveller.
He knew these warriors' strength.
More forces arrived—
Necron detachments.
Sons of Man.
Blood Angels.
All assembling.
Then came the hissing.
The Tyranid swarm surged, blotting out the horizon as they descended upon the landing zone.
VMMM!
"Traveller," Eden said with a smirk, "looks like things are about to get rough. Let's see if you can keep up."
He drew his power sword, Glory, its blue blade glowing faintly.
Dante stepped beside him, activating the disruption field of his Inferno Axe.
Anrakyr's blade staff lit up with green energy.
He sneered coldly:
"Let's hope you don't get devoured first."
The three of them stood at the vanguard, facing the monstrous, seething tide of Tyranids hurtling toward them—
And the true battle began.
(End of Chapter)
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