Sci-Fi War, Start With An Upgradeable Spaceship

The entire satellite fortress is in flames.

Battles are raging everywhere, with Sigismund leading the Imperial Fist fighters in the fight to prevent the fortress of humanity from falling to these evil thugs.

The greatsword in his hand sliced ​​through the Sons of Horus' bolter, and the blade detonated the bullets in the chamber.

Then, his sword sliced ​​across the opponent's throat, beheading him.

The legionnaires of the Sons of Horus fell backwards, and their two powerful hearts caused the fallen corpses to spurt hot blood like a fountain.

Sigismund strode forward, since he dared to stop any of his Sons of Horus from beheading.

The battle between the loyalists and the rebels became more and more exciting, and the fight was inseparable.

Sigismund thrust the greatsword into the armor of another Son of Horus.

The corpse's destroyed servo motor shot out sparks, lingering on the crimson blood.

Without stopping, he stepped over the corpse and looked towards the end of the metal corridor.

Everything was engulfed by the raging fire.

Incessant explosions came from those places covered in flames.

Dreadnoughts and heavy tanks fought in front of the kilometers-wide platform, while thousands of ordinary people and space marines meleeed.

The air smelled of blood and ionized ozone.

Hundreds of Imperial Army soldiers are fighting fiercely against hordes of traitors, beast mutants.

Those weird darkness lurks aside, devouring one or two seriously injured imperial soldiers from time to time.

Once dragged into those darkness, there is basically no way out, only screams and screams.

"Where is Abaddon?" Sigismund growled, vocally venting his anger and frustration.

The screams of imperial soldiers continued to be heard from the sub-nodes controlled everywhere.

But now, he didn't see Abaddon's figure.

Relying on the power of subspace, the opponent is rapidly shifting, causing all kinds of terrible damage in the satellite-level fortress.

His communicator rang, but it wasn't a traitor answering his challenge.

In the static-filled communication, came the voice of the father of genes.

"I order you to retreat immediately and bring the satellite fortress back to Terra.

Hearing this order, Sigismund froze for a moment.

This stun almost killed him.

One of the sons of Horus struck Sigismund with his power axe, trying to split him in two.

Fortunately his fighting instincts saved him.

Sigismund took a step back.

The ax slashed one centimeter from his throat, and the faint blue shock force field scratched his skin.

Two attendants took his place and swung their swords at the enemy.

"We can hold on to this line of defense, my lord, the enemy is vulnerable to us. The next round of Star Destroyer cannons will be launched soon.

"No, the price is too high. New threats are approaching, space is not the last battle, it is only the first line of defense.

"Abadon is here, as long as we kill him, we can defeat his offensive."

"It doesn't matter, Horus' threat is only superficial." Dorn's voice revealed bitterness, "This is not a simple war, don't disobey me anymore.

Sigismund swallowed the argument, knowing he must obey the Gene-Father.

Just wanted to switch the channel, let the fortress and surviving ships leave the defense line, and retreat towards Terra.

A terrible psionic storm swept everyone.

Ahriman, chief wizard of the Thousand Sons among the traitors, completed his ritual.

Masses of psykers and captives had their throats slit.

Blood, pain and fear flowed into the Warp.

Transformed into offerings to the gods through ancient rituals and belief patterns.

Accompanied by the death screams of these dead, a torrent converged in the subspace and crashed into the reality barrier that had already been tortured and was on the verge of collapse.

Time flickered for a moment.

Night fell, blocking the light.

The soul of every loyalist felt a tremor from the bottom of his heart.

Everyone could feel that there was something cold standing behind them, exhaling and talking softly.

Then the sun went out.

in the dark.

Weird whispers entangled everyone, and the power of the gods came to the world.

Countless lightning bolts spread across the pitch-black solar system, tearing out trails of terrifying malice.

A living nightmare boiled in the darkness, shouting and roaring.

Countless monsters in the darkness howled excitedly, eager to tear apart all flesh and blood.

Huge cracks appeared along the trajectory drawn by the traitors in advance.

This terrifying and mysterious ritual turned into a sharp sword, cutting open the skin of reality.

The subspace opened a huge mouth, and ugly light gushed out, boiled, and invisible matter flowed.

Smear bloody smiles in the dark.

The blood-red sun hung in the pale sky, shaped like a cold and bloody disk.

The sun regained its brilliance, spilling weirdness and horror into every corner.

Every loyalist can see the wound that tears reality apart.

It burns in the cold and silent night sky.

Another army of traitors appeared, emerging from the gap with countless hideous monsters and shadows.

The fleet of the World Eaters Legion came, and their battle cry, eager to kill, echoed on the communication channel and every soldier of the legion.

Angron, who had long been a slave of the blood god, stood on his flagship, holding a huge and rough blood axe, exuding terror and a desire to kill.

The Emperor's Children Legion came, and the richly decorated hull was filled with rich fragrance and gray smoke.

In the depths of the flagship Emperor's Pride, Fulgrim, incarnated as the Prince of Pleasure, hovers with a half-human, half-snake body, looking out through the eyes of every soul in the fleet, laughing in ecstasy.

The Death Guard Legion is here, and the former steel exterior of the flagship of the Fortitude is covered with squirming flesh and blood, and countless flies fly around these flesh and blood.

The inside of the ship is filled with all kinds of rancid smell and miserable green poisonous gas.

Mortarion, Nurgle's Chosen, stood inside his blood-covered flagship, watching Terra.

The Thousand Sons Legion is here, the flagship engraved with various chaotic runes, the Ray of Light is entwined with countless strange witchcraft lights, and those monsters with wings are crouching on the surface of the flagship, waiting to be driven by the Thousand Sons Wizard.

With blue wings on his back and a scepter in hand, Magnus looked at Terra with one eye, looking for the traces of the Space Wolves, intending to avenge Propes' hatred.

Then comes the vengeful spirit, who rides triumphantly like a king in his chariot.

On both sides of the Spirit of Vengeance are densely packed warships, forming a strong guarantee.

At the front end of the Vengeful Spirit, countless demons soared ahead as a forerunner.

High in the hull, in the dorsal bastions.

Horus, the former warlord of the empire, the eldest son who once vowed to create a better future for mankind with his father.

Today, he is the chosen warrior of the dark gods.

A despicable usurper who thinks he is great.

Horus' eyes rested on Terra, where the throne of his father's empire lay.

A strange bloody sun shines on his face.

The dark shadow faded from his strong and powerful body.

The demons staying in his royal court crouched on the ground, lowered their hideous and ugly heads, and expressed their submission to the warrior of the gods.

Countless ships gushed out from the cracks and spread out in the shimmering light.

Thousands, countless ships once waited in the warp for a gateway to the heart of the solar system to open.

Now, they all flock to the real universe together.

Covering the sky and blocking out the sun, it is difficult to count.

Countless demons also emerged.

Shadows hang over every Loyalist station.

Fighting and fighting broke out in every corner at the same time.

Death and killing, redemption and destruction.

Horus looked at Terra and confided softly.

"I'm back, father."

Accompanied by his words, the gods let out a cold and malicious laughter in the boundless universe.

They will partake of the light of false emperors until there is no hope for mankind.

The rune represented by the lunar defense system is gradually dimming, representing the origin homeland of the genetic warriors being captured by the rebels.

On the thirteenth of February, the bombardment of Terra began.

Horus purposely aimed his first shell at the heart of the imperial court, the imperial sanctuary, the throne room where the Emperor himself sat.

It screamed and made a fiery sound, tearing the atmosphere over the Himalayas.

The flight time of the cannonball was not long, and the moment it was detected, it was cut into pieces by the optical network formed by several laser beams.

The unstable plasma stream in the shell also exploded in the atmosphere, forming a violent and bright flame.

The four emperor's parents and children in armor, the loyal Primarch looked up, watching the 200 shells, and also watching their own destiny.

Walk into the abyss of destruction, or walk towards redemption.

"The time was so fitting that midnight was chosen to announce the enmity between us, to represent madness and the promise of his ultimate triumph. I told him about this ancient tradition, and now he's only doing it to tell We, we shall be his stepping-stones.35

Jaghatai whispered Horus' intentions.

He was wearing white battle armor and, like Dorne, had never worn a helmet.

He has a proud wild face, always smiling, but slightly worried.

Like the clear sky at the end of midsummer meeting the stratus clouds in late autumn.

He chases after death, just to be able to laugh proudly between life and death.

His people honor him as Chagatai Khan.

The former comes from his power, and the latter comes from his authority as a king.

He once led the White Scars to dominate the galaxy, and now he will abide by his oath and fight to stop Horus.

"So arrogant," Sanguinius said.

"He has the power of the gods and the backing of traitors, but he will pay for his arrogance.99

Donne looked up at the sky.

Never before have so many spaceships converged on Terra.

The warriors who swore to win the future for mankind have returned to their origin.

Bring destruction and hatred.

Thirteen Legions.

Countless warships form an endless team.

Its size alone is enough to feel scary and unsettling.

At the front of the fleet is a giant fortress comparable to a planet.

With its own powerful anti-psychic energy barrier, no demons or evil gods can spy on this terrifying fleet.

The terrifying scale of this fleet, even the gods would be afraid to see it.

Never before has any race possessed such terrifying power that the entire galaxy would tremble before this fleet.

"The worm bridge can be built in a week, and the final large-scale jump can be carried out. At that time, all fleets will arrive at Terra at the same time." 39 intelligence chief Hui reported.

Looking at the spherical coordinates in front of him, Guilliman looked solemn.

"I just hope it's all in time."