The sky above Terra looked like something out of a dream, or maybe a warning.
Massive warships floated above the planet, blocking out stars. Each one was a beast of metal, size, and firepower. Some were built like gothic cathedrals with wings, others like armored fists ready to punch a planet into dust. All of them carried one name on their hull: Terra.
This was humanity now.
But the biggest, the most insane-looking thing out there, was the Tesseract Gate.
It spun slowly in orbit, made of layered rings the size of mountain ranges. In the middle of the gate was a glowing blue cube, the core, built from the shattered remains of the Space Stone. It pulsed like it was alive, like it hated the limits of time and space. The Emperor had studied it for years, twisted its raw power into something useful.
This wasn't a warp drive. No daemons. No whispers. This was science that bent reality straight. You didn't travel through space. You ripped through it.
Inside the Glory of Terra, the flagship of the Luna Wolves, Horus stood at the bridge. His Legion was already loaded and waiting. Every Astartes stood in formation, like statues of war, calm, focused, deadly.
The bridge wasn't quiet. It was alive. Screens blinked. The ship's systems thrummed with raw power. Officers (all Astartes, no weak humans here) called out final prep checks. No tech-priests, no robes, no chanting. Just warriors doing their job.
"Systems green."
"Tesseract Gate reaching ignition point."
"All Legions reporting ready."
Horus nodded. "Execute the jump."
Outside, the Gate flared.
The rings spun faster. Lightning cracked across space. The cube flashed so bright it turned the night side of Terra into day for a split second.
Then, with a thunderous pulse, space tore open.
A hole appeared where nothing had been before. Not black, not white — just wrong. Like someone had taken scissors to the universe.
And then… they went through.
The Glory of Terra didn't move like a ship. It vanished. Followed by thousands of others. One second they were above Terra. The next…
---
Somewhere Else
A dead system. A red planet, orbiting a dying sun. The ground was cracked. The air thin. There were ruins scattered across the surface, tall and weird, clearly not human.
Horus stood at the observation deck, arms crossed, looking down at the world.
"Xenos," he muttered. "First of many."
Behind him, the rest of the fleet formed up. Legion banners flew proudly on every hull. His ship, the Glory, gleamed like a blade. Silver armor plating. Gold trim. Huge cannons on the sides that could vaporize a mountain. Engines that glowed with psychic fire.
All around, other ships took positions,
Iron Wrath, shaped like a hammerhead.
Blood's Oath, blood-red and claw-shaped.
Spear of Olympia, elegant and long, like a noble's dagger.
And then, the order was given.
"Drop the pods."
From the bellies of the ships, hundreds of drop pods launched. Black spears raining down from the sky. Inside them were the Astartes, bolters in hand, eyes locked forward.
The pods hit like meteors.
Dust clouds exploded. The ground cracked. Doors blew open. And out came giants in power armor.
The Luna Wolves hit first. Bolters raised, squads moving in formation through the alien ruins. Behind them came others, Iron Warriors, World Eaters, Imperial Fists. All spreading out, sweeping the terrain.
Horus came down last. His boots hit the ground, his silver cloak snapping behind him. His armor glowed faintly, powered not just by tech, but by his own force of will.
He looked around. The ruins groaned. Something was moving beneath the surface.
"We are the first humans to stand on this soil," Horus said, voice calm and deadly. "Let's make sure nothing else survives here."
And then, the screech.
From the ruins, things came crawling out. Not machines. Not animals. Something old. Xenos, built like spiders, all blade-limbs and glowing eyes. They moved fast, screeching in some language that sounded like grinding metal and pain.
The Astartes didn't wait.
They opened fire.
---
End of Chapter 70