Moments later, the platform at the port was strewn with the mutilated limbs and battered corpses of the Jiralhanae. Blood, organs, and chunks of flesh had turned the originally purple tiles a deep red. Even the Kig-Yar, who had tried to seize the CCS-class cruisers, couldn't escape the precise shots of the young Astartes. Explosive rounds obliterated them, leaving no intact bodies behind.
Displayed on their helmet screens was the objective:
"Eliminate any hostile, threatening creatures except Sangheili, Unggoy, or Huragok."
Although these young warriors hadn't heard the stories from their elder, Samuel Young, about the Halo universe, their Primarch, Leman, had warned them during slipspace travel that the Kig-Yar were naturally cunning and treacherous. So, as soon as they realized the Kig-Yar weren't allied with the Sangheili, they took decisive action to eliminate them, preventing any future trouble.
In total, it took only a little over two minutes for them to leave the hangar, reach the port platform, and clear out all hostile forces. Not a single Astartes died in the process. Only a few unlucky ones had their Titan armor scratched by the Jiralhanae's ballistic weapons.
In contrast, when twenty Thunder Warriors fought the Covenant forces previously, they had to rely on chainswords and brute force after exhausting their ammunition, facing off against thousands of troops. Despite needing to avoid killing Sangheili, they still suffered heavy casualties, with half of their number falling before securing victory.
Now, with over three thousand young Astartes on the platform against a similar number of Jiralhanae, there was no contest—the outcome was one-sided. Leman himself had slain half of the Jiralhanae alone.
At that moment, a terrified Prophet dangled from Leman's grasp, held easily by his thumb and forefinger. The Prophet stammered in fear, "Wh-who... what are you?"
As he spoke, the Prophet lost control of his bladder, soiling his luxurious robes, the liquid dripping onto the metal floor below.
"Ugh." Leman grimaced in disgust, stretching out his arm to hold the Prophet as far away from his silver Titan armor as possible, trying to avoid the stench.
Switching to his native language, Leman replied casually, "Worthless trash. I'm your human grandpa. Die."
With that, Leman flicked his fingers, sending the Prophet hurtling through the air at an incredible speed.
Splat!
The Prophet's body exploded against the distant metal wall, leaving a trail of blood and gore.
"Oooh," the nearby Sangheili murmured in awe.
Can battles even be fought like this?
In the past, the Sangheili would rely on their individual bravery to charge into the enemy ranks during desperate moments, hoping to break their formation and inspire their own troops. But they had never seen anyone single-handedly massacre thousands of enemies.
And those enemies were Jiralhanae, who were usually their equals in ground combat.
"All hail the Restorer!"
A young blue-armored Sangheili, having just come of age and filled with idealism, knelt reverently before Leman.
"All hail the Restorer!"
With one leading the way, the rest of the Sangheili followed suit, bowing and pledging their loyalty to Leman.
Unlike the councilors or politicians, these frontline soldiers didn't overthink things. From a young age, they had been taught to follow the gods, embark on a pilgrimage, and defeat any heretics who dared to defy the gods.
However, when Xiandel and the councilors revealed that the Prophets had fabricated the entire pilgrimage, their betrayal filled the Sangheili with fury, but it also left them directionless, unsure of what to do next. They had been fighting for the pilgrimage their entire lives.
But after witnessing Leman's overwhelming power and stature, towering over four meters and easily defeating thousands of enemies, they found a new purpose. They swore loyalty to the Restorers, vowing to follow their lead and continue their conquest across the galaxy.
As a warrior race, the Sangheili thrived on battle, and Leman perfectly embodied the god-like image they had always envisioned.
"All hail the Restorer!"
Even the frightened Unggoy dropped to their knees, burying their heads in the floor. The Kig-Yar followed suit, realizing it was better not to provoke the Astartes or the god-like Leman, who were far stronger than the Sangheili or Jiralhanae.
"Uh..." Leman, taken aback by the sight, wasn't sure how to respond.
He sheathed the sword of Winter at his side and slowly stepped out of the pile of bodies, approaching the kneeling "aliens." Remembering his father's teachings, Leman mimicked his father's posture and tone, speaking in Sangheili:
"Rise, all of you. Now that you have chosen to serve humanity, you are our allies in the united front."
"Yes, sir."
The Sangheili all nodded in agreement.
Thud—thud—
As they stood up, the heavy footsteps of another figure drew their attention. Another four-meter-tall Primarch stepped forward. This one had short black hair and a gentle smile. Using his unique psychic ability, Angron addressed the Sangheili, Unggoy, and Kig-Yar:
"Greetings. I am Angron, and this is my brother Leman. We are the gene-children of the Restorer.
You have made the right choice, and I assure you that your honor will be preserved, and your loyalty remembered. Now, help us take the city of Benevolence, and purge those lying Prophets and the violent Jiralhanae."
"Sworn to serve the Restorer!"
"Primarchs, follow me!"
With that, the devout Sangheili, now treating Angron and Leman as their new leaders, turned and charged back into the city of Benevolence, acting as guides for the Primarchs.
Leman and Angron's ability to fluently speak the various Covenant languages was a testament to the immense learning capacity of the Primarchs. Angron's unique psychic ability to absorb negative emotions further won over the Sangheili, allowing them to fully trust the two brothers.
Roar!
Just then, a deafening dragon's roar echoed throughout Dock One. A massive black-scaled dragon, with wings spanning over a hundred meters, soared into the air. Nirenhog had finally escaped the cramped CCS-class hangar, now flying freely above the spacious port. His entire body was clad in full-body armor.
Nirenhog's back was equipped with small, ship-grade nuclear fusion engines, magnetic suspension devices, propulsion systems, and even an Atlas prototype shield generator. These advanced technologies allowed Nirenhog to perform as a highly agile airborne fortress in space combat.
With his gleaming silver armor and glowing cyan runes, the black-scaled dragon fit perfectly into the Sangheili's image of a "god."
Atop Nirenhog's neck, Fulgrim, with his silver hair flowing in the wind, wielded a long, flaming scimitar. Using his psychic abilities, he commanded:
"Warriors of the cadet legions! For humanity, slay the Prophets! And for our Sangheili friends, seize the city of Benevolence!"
"For humanity!"
"Slay the Prophets!"
The metallic echo of their war cry resounded across the port.
Boom! Boom!
The Sangheili looked up to see Nirenhog flying overhead, wings creating powerful gusts of wind.
"Brothers, kill! Kill! Kill!"
"Let the Restorers see why the Sangheili are a warrior race!"
Though stunned, the Sangheili's morale surged to its peak upon seeing Nirenhog. To these devout warriors, it was as if a "god" was fighting alongside them.
Their rebellion against the Prophets now felt like an act of divine justice.
Soon after, in the main residential district of the city of Benevolence:
Intense street fighting broke out. Tens of millions of Jiralhanae, forcing the Unggoy and Kig-Yar under their command, were engaged in brutal urban warfare against nearly an equal number of Sangheili.
The Sangheili, being the backbone of the Covenant's military and command structure, had been deployed across various fleets and resource-rich colonies, leaving their numbers in the city at a disadvantage.
The naval battle above had yet to conclude, so the ground-based combat squads from the defense fleet were unable to provide immediate support to the Sangheili trapped in the city.
However...
Roar!
Boom! Boom!
Nirenhog had already appeared over the city, unleashing a torrent of scorching flames upon the Jiralhanae's positions, triggering a chain of explosions among their fuel cells and armored units.
Buzz! Buzz!
Plasma and crystal-based anti-aircraft fire were all absorbed and blocked by Nirenhog's green-glowing energy shields, leaving him unharmed.
Fulgrim leaped from Nirenhog's back, flaming blade in hand, landing right in the midst of the Jiralhanae forces.
Meanwhile, near the port, three thousand Astartes from the Blood Angels, Dark Angels, and Sons of Horus cadet legions joined forces with the Sangheili. In the blink of an eye, this combined force swept through the district, taking control of the entire area.
It was a "complete rout."
After clearing all enemy forces from the district, the young Astartes split into smaller tactical squads to quickly advance toward the Sangheili main forces trapped in the center of the city.
At this point, a squad of Astartes, whose helmets and shoulder pads were painted in dark green with white accents, had pushed deep into the city. Their shoulder pauldrons bore the insignia of a winged sword, marking them as Dark Angels, descendants of the Primarch responsible for overseeing the Doom universe, Lion El'Jonson.
Leading the squad was Sergeant Garlan Clovey, whose left shoulder pad was painted dark red and bore his name. Once just a child raised by his grandfather, Garlan had grown into a formidable Astartes recruit, crossing between different universes and facing numerous alien threats.
Armed with a standard-caliber bolter, a chainsword hanging at his waist, Garlan and three riflemen led the charge at the front of the squad.
Bang—bang—!
With rhythmic precision, they fired rounds that pierced targets well beyond normal human sight, taking down Jiralhanae with deadly accuracy.
Bang-bang-bang—!
The squad's heavy gunner, wielding a massive 1.0-caliber bolter, provided overwhelming suppressive fire from the flank.
Riiiip—!
The demolitions expert, armed with a BFG plasma gun, focused on targeting armored units or entrenched positions with destructive force.
Suddenly, Garlan's brow furrowed beneath his helmet.
Beep-beep!
His visor flashed with a red warning, accompanied by a message: "Enemy sniper detected! Take evasive action!"
Reacting instantly, Garlan shifted his left shoulder back, dodging just in time as a high-energy plasma beam zipped past him, scorching the ground where he had stood.
A sniper...
Realizing there was a Kig-Yar sniper hiding within one of the distant skyscrapers, Garlan quickly swapped out his half-empty magazine for a fresh one. Activating his comms, he reported:
"Enemy sniper detected. Our Titan armor's magnetic field can't deflect their plasma beams. They pose a threat, stay alert!"
Before he finished speaking—
Boom!
Garlan had already taken aim at the sniper's location and fired a high-explosive round, the bright red tracer leaving the barrel.
The moment his warning ended—
Boom—boom!
The building housing the sniper exploded into a fireball, ignited by the metal-hydrogen and metal-deuterium in the bolter round, reducing the entire floor to rubble.
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