Suffer Not The Radiant

Chapter 38: They Hunger

In the wake of uncovering the active cult, the protocol agents swiftly relayed the information to the authorities. The report promptly reached the government's ears, triggering an immediate surge in the deployment of armed forces. Despite dissenting voices, the SWAT operatives remained entrenched in their mission to liberate the city. Their conviction remains unshaken, buoyed by the government's reinforcement in the form of helicopters.

The news of the empyrean cult as well as what had happened to Neon because of it had also caused Valorant to take action, Brimstone was wondering who he was going to send, as all the agents he had known were either busy or away. But there was only one who was available, and one each and everyone of the agents were incredibly unsure of being sent in, even Ranesk.

Diverging from the previous city liberation operation, the SWAT operatives received explicit orders: no mercy, no hesitation-terminate any cultist sighted. Ranesk, his words resonating with unwavering intensity, emphasized this command to every single soul present. The advent of the soldiers transformed the landscape of this operation, transcending its original police clearance nature and transmuting it into a visceral war-a merciless purge.

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Dispersed across the city, tanks and armored vehicles adorned the surroundings, meticulously positioned with the collaborative efforts of the infantry. Guided by their assistance, the lingering populace had been safely evacuated, rendering the city a barren shell bereft of life's pulse. Now, solely men armed to the teeth inhabited this desolate expanse, enveloped by the symphony of helicopters and the incessant rumble of military machinery. Concealed within this urban labyrinth, the precise whereabouts of the cultists eluded their grasp, yet the knowledge of their sinister presence within these forsaken streets remained indelible. Unyielding in his pursuit, Ranesk vowed to unearth every damned Radiant, regardless of the consequences. Even if it meant stripping this city bare.

The soldiers as well as the commanders assembled had received explicit orders to heed the commands of Ranesk, a figure rumored to have endured for over three centuries. Some among their ranks dared to scoff at such claims, but any lingering doubts were swiftly quelled by the multitude of recorded footage from his past exploits. Besides, the sheer magnitude of his presence alone commanded a certain level of authority.

"Ranesk, was it?" a commander inquired, extending a hand. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Ranesk's gaze lingered upon the offered hand, contemplating this customary gesture he had never much cared for. In the battles fought under the Imperium's banner, shaking hands had never been necessary, especially not with ordinary men akin to guardsmen.

"The cult you spoke of," the commander pressed on, "where might we find it?"

"We will have to find it ," Ranesk replied through his vox, his tone devoid of any warmth.

"And how do we do that? This city's massive," the marine queried, his words tinged with a hint of skepticism.

The statement struck Ranesk's nerve, as if it were a mocking jest aimed squarely at him. The audacity of such a question.

"Then we shall comb through every inch, soldier," Ranesk retorted sharply. "Are you not a soldier? Why must you burden me with such a preposterous question?"

Taken aback by the severity of his response, the soldier recoiled, attempting to defuse the tense exchange. "Whoa there, take a step back, ease off, will you? I was just asking," he stammered before withdrawing from Ranesk's presence.

Ranesk stared at his camouflage uniform as he walked away, not breaking focus. Such a question was so stupid, why even question it? Had these soldiers never fought in a city before? Or were they just lazy?