War Hammer: The reality Bender Chapter 49 49: The Smoke Screen and the Teleport Assault

At this mont, atop the Hive City's fortified walls.

The silhouettes of Greenskins sward across the battlents, their coarse skin reflecting a dull, sickly green hue under the harsh sunlight. Shouldering all manner of ramshackle big shootas and massive choppas, they gathered in small groups, barking crude jokes and laughing raucously.

"Heh, look at da city! It's buzzin' like a kicked hornet's nest!"

A Shoota Boy cradling a heavy bolter-shoota chuckled, his eyes filled with malicious glee. "Look at dem Boyz runnin' 'round like headless squigs! I reckon so unlucky git poked sothin' he shouldn't 'ave."

A squat, heavily muscled Choppa Boy nearby leaned over the parapet, peering down into the Hive City's interior, observing the raging fires and billowing thick smoke. "Who knows? Maybe a whole nest of monsters crawled outta a crack in da ground."

He violently scratched his hairy chin, pulling his lips back to reveal razor-sharp fangs. "Just heard a Grot squawkin' about it. Said he saw so massive blue fings krumpin' a Nob flat in one hit! Sounds right zoggin' Waaaaagh!"

"Who cares wot a zoggin' Grot says?! Why's you listenin' to a runt?!"

A massive, heavily armored Nob stomped past, impatiently interrupting the two Boyz' chatter. "If you gits got ti to gab, you got ti to keep yer eyes peeled! Look sharp!"

"Dis wall's high enough to poke Gork in da eye! Unless dem squishy humies actually grew bird wings like dem cowardly Boyz said, dey ain't neva gettin' up 'ere!"

The Shoota Boy wasn't the least bit intimidated, rely chuckling in response.

The Choppa Boy nodded in deep agreent. Just as he was about to chi in, out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of the distant horizon.

His pupils violently contracted. He raised a trembling, calloused finger, pointing into the distance, his voice cracking into a high-pitched squeal: "Wait... W-wot in Gork's na is dat?!"

The Nob and the Shoota Boy followed his trembling finger. In the next microsecond, all traces of amusent were violently wiped from their faces, replaced by sheer, unadulterated terror.

Rising from the distant horizon was a massive, churning cloud of yellow dust. And erging from that dust storm was an apocalyptic, rolling tide of forged steel!

Hundreds of tanks advanced in perfectly disciplined, overlapping echelons. Their massive treads aggressively ground the earth, producing a deafening, continuous chanical roar that shook the very ground.

The hyper-dense armor plating glinted with a cold, rciless luster under the sun. Hundreds of macro-cannon barrels were leveled directly at the Hive City like a pack of starving apex predators preparing to devour their prey!

"I-impossible!"

The Shoota Boy shrieked, his voice laced with absolute disbelief. "Are dem humies zoggin' mad?! How dare dey?!"

"Quick! Get all da Boyz up 'ere!"

The Ork Nob violently snapped out of his stupor, his eyes blazing a furious crimson as he roared, "OPEN FIRE! BLAST 'EM! Krump every single one of dem suicidal humies!"

Deafening, crude klaxons instantaneously blared across the entire length of the wall.

The Greenskins frantically sward the defensive emplacents. The gaping maws of countless heavy cannons violently traversed, locking onto the approaching tide of steel.

In the next mont, an apocalyptic monsoon of artillery shells was unleashed. High-explosives tore through the sky with ear-piercing shrieks, while a suffocating web of heavy stubber fire aggressively swept across the advancing armored column.

BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM!!!

A continuous chain of violent explosions erupted. Blinding fireballs illuminated the sky, and thick cordite smoke blanketed the plains.

However, the catastrophic scene of Imperial tanks being shredded into scrap tal that the Nob had anticipated fundantally failed to materialize.

The Ork artillery shells that managed to strike the super-heavy tanks detonated against their adamantium-laced armor with dull, hollow thuds, producing nothing more than violent showers of sparks.

The tide of steel did not falter. The treads ruthlessly crushed the scorched earth, accelerating as they advanced. Like an unstoppable, chanical avalanche, they relentlessly bore down upon the primary gates of the Hive City.

"Zog it all!"

The Ork Nob stomped his feet in a blind fury. He yanked a crude vox-caster from his uniform and roared into it, "Artillery batteries! Fire right zoggin' now! Dump every shell you got on 'em!"

However, the panicked voice of a kboy crackled back through the static: "Boss! We can't! Did ya forget?! Da heavy batteries just got wrecked! We need ti to fix 'em..."

"WOT?!"

The Nob's heart plumted.

At that exact mont, the advancing tide of steel finally halted.

Stopping just outside the effective range of the wall's secondary armants, a dozen massive macro-cannons mounted on the super-heavy tanks slowly elevated, taking aim at the towering, steel-forged battlents.

Seeing this, the Ork Nob actually let out a cruel, mocking laugh.

Wot a bunch of squigs! Do dey really fink a Void Shield is dat easy to break?!

In the next microsecond, the tank barrels erupted with blinding flashes of light.

Massive artillery shells, trailing long tails of exhaust, shrieked toward the wall.

But defying all Ork expectations, these shells were not absorbed and dispersed by the Void Shield. Instead, they detonated prematurely, before impacting the energy barrier.

The shells burst in mid-air, yet they produced absolutely zero kinetic shockwaves. Instead, they violently expelled massive, hyper-dense clouds of chemical smoke, which were rapidly carried toward the wall by the prevailing winds.

In the blink of an eye, the entire section of the wall was entirely engulfed in an impenetrably thick, blindingly white smokescreen. Visibility plumted to less than a single ter.

"Wot da zog is dis?!"

The Nob furrowed his heavy brow.

"Can't see?! Who gives a zog!"

He quickly regained his composure, barking at the Boyz around him, "Keep shootin' blind! Keep da dakka flowin'! Don't let dem humies get close!"

Although the Greenskins were panicking internally, they obeyed the command, frantically unleashing a blind torrent of firepower into the smoke.

The Nob narrowed his eyes, his crude brain rapidly churning.

He was a Nob of the Blood Axe Clan. Unlike the brainless brutes of other clans who only knew how to blindly charge and smash, he understood tactical restraint and the value of kunning strategy.

"Smoke... wot are dem humies tryin' to do wif all dis smoke?"

The Nob muttered to himself. "We can still shoot... Are dey tryin' to climb up while we can't see? Impossible, dis wall's too zoggin' high..."

However, he wouldn't need to ponder this tactical conundrum for much longer.

A faint, sharp scent of ozone quietly perated the suffocating smoke.

Imdiately following it, a sharp, crackling sound of discharging energy echoed from within the whiteout.

"Wot was dat?"

The Nob's instincts violently flared. He gripped his chain-axe tightly, roaring into the fog, "Who's dere?!"

In the next microsecond, erging from the dense smoke like phantoms dredged from the abyss, towering figures clad in guntal-grey power armor materialized directly atop the battlents.

They stood rigidly upright, the power-fields of their swords humming with a cold, lethal glow. The cavernous muzzles of their bolters and assault cannons were leveled with absolute, chanical precision.

"It's... it's da humie tin-cans!"

An Ork shrieked in absolute terror.

"Zog , teleportation..."

The Nob's pupils violently contracted.

He didn't even have a microsecond to react before an arc of blinding light flashed.

Shhhk—

The crisp sound of a monomolecular blade effortlessly shearing through flesh and bone echoed clearly.

The Nob's massive body violently seized. He looked down in disbelief at the cavernous, bone-deep fissure carved completely through his chest cavity. Blood geysered outward like a ruptured pipe.

A second later, his colossal fra crashed heavily to the steel decking.

Leonardo smoothly retracted his Sentinel Blade. A few droplets of Ork blood stained his auric Terminator plate, yet it did absolutely nothing to diminish his terrifying majesty.

Sweeping his gaze across the utterly panicked Greenskins on the wall, his voice was chillingly flat, carrying an absolute, undeniable authority:

"Slaughter them. Leave none alive."

The instant the decree fell, cold, lethal light flashed once more.

Accompanied by the deafening roar of mass-reactive bolter fire and the agonizing shrieks of the Orks, the Rubric Astartes began systematically purging the xenos from the battlents with horrifying, chanical efficiency.

Naturally, the primary control sanctum governing the Hive City's colossal blast doors was swiftly overrun and secured.

Under the absolute control of the Astartes, the impossibly thick, adamantium-laced primary gates slowly groaned open.

Seeing the breach, the apocalyptic tide of Imperial steel idling below imdiately engaged their massive engines. Belching thick exhaust, the armored spearhead surged forward, rolling inexorably toward the shattered gates of the Hive City.

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