Infinite Metaverse

Chapter 38: The Slaughterhouse

The interior of the transport ship was eerily silent. Not only Fu Qinghai, but even Gurt, the squad leader, felt that something was off. He deliberately slowed their pace.

The Astartes, armed with various weapons, carefully searched the dimly lit corridors.

Fu Qinghai couldn't help but wonder: 'What exactly are the Word Bearers transporting on this ship?'

Guns? Artillery? Ammunition? Or perhaps armour?

The internal structure of the transport ship had been projected onto the Astartes' visors. It was a standard Imperial transport ship, so its layout was uniform. In theory, by following the arrows on their visors, the Sting Squad could locate their target—the engine control room.

Unlike the 'Lunar'-class cruiser, which had multiple control halls, the 'Writhing Worm' had only three engine control rooms despite being nearly as large as a cruiser. Destroying two of them would render the ship incapable of spaceflight.

However, things didn't go as planned.

The Sting Squad was blocked by a wall. The Word Bearers had not only defaced the ship's exterior but also heavily modified its interior. According to the data, there should have been a passage here. After three turns, they would have reached the engine control room.

"Blow it open," Gurt ordered. The hastily modified bulkhead wouldn't be as thick as the ship's outer hull. Gurt decided against finding another route.

Several Ultramarines began setting high-explosive charges on the blasphemously painted steel wall.

Fu Qinghai, as the Techmarine, didn't need to handle such minor tasks. He looked up to examine the wall's decorations.

At the top was the symbol "Ⅷ."

Below it were densely packed mantras, most of which Fu Qinghai couldn't understand. However, a few words stood out, written in High Gothic.

He silently read the words: 'Praise… the Great… Brass… Brass Lord?'

Fu Qinghai's heart skipped a beat. He suddenly realized what he was looking at.

"Ⅷ" was the Roman numeral for eight.

The Brass Lord, whose sacred number was eight… Khorne!

This wall was covered in prayers to Khorne, one of the Chaos Gods!

Fu Qinghai didn't want to count whether the number of words was a multiple of eight. He had a sinking feeling…

What lay beyond this wall?

"Fall back, prepare to detonate," Gurt ordered loudly.

Fu Qinghai hesitated, unsure if he should stop Gurt. This was a Chaos transport ship. Prayers to Khorne, or any Chaos God, were to be expected.

He couldn't just say he was scared of a wall, could he?

Fu Qinghai followed the Ultramarines to a safe distance.

'Boom!' The explosives detonated. Before the flames and smoke could dissipate, the Sting Squad charged through the breach.

Gurt, wielding a chainsword, nearly stumbled as he emerged from the smoke. Fu Qinghai grabbed his shoulder just in time.

But Gurt didn't have time to thank him. He stared in horror at the scene before him. Fu Qinghai pushed forward and was equally stunned.

It was a scene straight out of hell!

Beyond the breached wall, the Word Bearers had transformed the space into a massive, intricate slaughterhouse.

Countless naked humans were placed on a conveyor belt of death. They were already dead, but their corpses were still being processed—sliced by rotating blades, fed into grinding gears, and turned into pulp.

Blood dripped from the machinery, pooling on the floor and flowing through intricate grooves carved into the metal.

"They're all psykers," Gurt said grimly.

Snapped out of his shock by Gurt's words, Fu Qinghai turned to him.

Gurt pointed at one of the corpses. "Look, he has a third eye on his forehead."

Fu Qinghai focused and saw that it was indeed a member of a Navigator House.

All the corpses bore some form of mutation.

So, the "cargo" the Word Bearers were transporting… were living people.

Fu Qinghai understood.

During the Horus Heresy, the traitors not only used warp storms to disrupt communications and travel but also began summoning warp entities to aid them.

Through mass slaughter and dark rituals from the Age of Strife, the Word Bearers achieved their goal. They were the first to summon daemons into reality during the Heresy.

Compared to ordinary humans, psykers were far more efficient sacrifices. Fewer were needed to complete a ritual. Otherwise, summoning even a single Bloodletter of Khorne might require the slaughter of an entire city.

The grooves on the floor formed a complex pattern, all leading to a single point. This was a blood altar, composed of gears, shafts, runes, and dark rituals.

Fu Qinghai looked past the equipment, following the flow of blood. His visor zoomed in, focusing on the end of the blood trail.

There, chained to a human-shaped recess in the wall, was a Word Bearer.

The recess was surrounded by twisted, evil reliefs and totems —fangs, spikes, and skulls. Above the recess were two "U"-shaped daemonic horns.

The adjacent recesses were empty.

Fu Qinghai stared at the scene and shouted, "This is an altar! They're performing a ritual… they're summoning the Possessed!"

"No, we are called… the Blessed Sons!" A sinister voice echoed from the side.

Fu Qinghai quickly turned and slashed toward the source.

'Clang!' Sparks flew as his power sword was caught by a massive crab-like claw.

Fu Qinghai retreated.

"Form up, open fire!" Gurt roared.

The monster that had appeared beside them raised its claw to block the incoming bolter fire and charged at the Sting Squad.

It was a horrifying Chaos Space Marine. Two curved horns pierced through its helmet, and its power armour had fused with grotesquely swollen, blood-red flesh.

Bone-white spikes protruded from the armour and the vents of its power pack. The helmet's grille had twisted into a maw of sharp teeth, from which a forked, purple-black tongue lashed out. One hand had become a massive red claw, while the other was a serrated and spiny crab claw.

The Possessed warrior showed no fear of being outnumbered. It swung its claws and charged into the Sting Squad's formation.

Bolter rounds caused only minor damage, but the Possessed's claws tore through an Ultramarine's neck armour.

Fu Qinghai ducked under a swing of the crab claw and slashed off the Possessed's red claws.

"Switch to melee!" Fu Qinghai shouted.

The Ultramarines dropped their bolters and drew chainswords and power swords. The buzzing of chainswords filled the air as the Sting Squad formed a tight melee formation, surrounding the Possessed.

"Ugh… gurgle… hrrr…" A low, guttural growl came from the corridor entrance.

Another Possessed warrior, twitching and stumbling, appeared.

Another one!?

Fu Qinghai cursed inwardly. He disengaged from the first Possessed and charged at the second.

"I'll handle this one!" he shouted.

He knew the Ultramarines had their own melee tactics. Joining their formation might disrupt their coordination. It was better to hold off one Possessed alone.

He didn't dare claim he could kill it, but he could at least buy time.

The second Possessed seemed to be struggling to fully merge with the daemon inside. Its neck twisted unnaturally, and its body twitched violently.

This was an opportunity!

Fu Qinghai charged, not waiting for the enemy to complete its transformation. He thrust his sword at the Possessed's head.

'Clang!' Two twisted, bony claws crossed to block the strike.

"Hrrr… Blood God…" The Possessed raised its head, its bulging lenses glowing red. Its fanged maw let out a low growl.

Fu Qinghai retreated, resetting his stance.

This Possessed couldn't speak properly, only emitting guttural growls and simple words. But its attacks were relentless. It crouched, then leaped at Fu Qinghai, claws extended.

Fu Qinghai had never seen such an open, reckless fighting style. He hesitated for a split second. He sidestepped the attack and slashed at the Possessed's side as it passed.

A line of blood sprayed from the wound.

The Possessed landed and turned, charging again.

Fu Qinghai blocked and observed. The wound on its side was already healing, the light red proliferative tissue is constantly squirming like small granules.

No wonder it fought so recklessly.

Fu Qinghai blocked another claw strike, recalling what he knew about Possessed.

The warp and reality were separated by a barrier. Warp entities struggled to cross this barrier and influence reality. The Word Bearers provided these daemons with vessels—Astartes who willingly offered themselves to the Chaos Gods.

In other words, during combat, the body was controlled by a daemon, not the Astartes.

Fu Qinghai had a plan. He couldn't wear down the Possessed with cumulative damage. The warp's energy brings amazing healing abilities. He needed to target the brain or heart for a one-hit kill, destroying the daemon's vessel.

But fighting a Possessed alone was incredibly difficult. Aside from its rapid regeneration, it was stronger, faster, and unafraid of pain.

Fu Qinghai was forced to retreat, his boots clanging against the floor. He couldn't find an opening for a fatal blow.

Facing a Possessed with only a sword, Fu Qinghai's defenses were far from flawless.

He sliced off one of the Possessed's horns, nearly cutting into its skull. The cost was a claw strike to his chest. Large chunks of ceramite armour were torn away. The multi-layer composite power armor saved him, but it wouldn't last much longer.

Step by step, Fu Qinghai was pushed further from the Sting Squad. He rounded a corner, losing sight of his comrades.

The Possessed leaped again, claws aimed at Fu Qinghai's head.

Fu Qinghai raised his sword to block. The bony claws slammed into the blade, the blade cutting deep into the claw's palm. The force traveled down Fu Qinghai's arm and into the floor.

At that moment, the floor gave way with a loud 'crack'. Both Fu Qinghai and the Possessed fell into the lower level.

Now!

Fu Qinghai didn't let the sudden weightlessness distract him.

He had found his chance.

*****

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