Suffer Not The Radiant

Chapter 39: Blood Once More

"Rage without focus is no weapon at all."

- Lorgar Aurelian

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The gathered men steeled themselves, a mix of seasoned operatives and fresh-faced soldiers who had just joined the fray. Many of these soldiers were yet to taste the bitter reality of combat, having emerged straight from the training camps. However, they found solace in the presence of an Astartes, a battle-hardened warrior who guided them with unwavering expertise, from what they have heard from him, at least.

And so commenced the hunt for the cultists. It was widely acknowledged that these fanatics likely lurked beneath the surface, their sinister activities hidden deep within the bowels of the city. Tyberos himself, with his pronouncement of "feeling" their presence, left no room for doubt. Yet, none dared question his peculiar insight, not even Ranesk.

The troops pressed forward, their ranks swelling with hundreds of soldiers making their way into the labyrinthine tunnels of the subway system. Armored fighting vehicles led the charge, forging a path through the gloom. Thus far, the mission remained devoid of any significant opposition. However, sporadic accounts emerged from soldiers who claimed to have glimpsed unidentified figures with eerily luminescent eyes, only to witness their sudden disappearance on the fringes of the subterranean passages as they drew near.

Battalions of men secured their flanks, while dozens more surrounded the city, making sure none could get out, or get in.

—-

The resounding cadence of men marching and the rumble of military vehicles reverberated through the air, saturating every corner with an electric blend of tension and anticipation. Though blood had yet to stain the ground, unsettling reports had emerged of shadowy figures haunting the depths of the subways, their eyes eerily aglow. Everyone had agreed that these were the cultists they were looking for.

'I take it you're the.. Space marine, as they call you' the general intoned, a note of skepticism lacing his words. Ranesk maintained an unwavering countenance, his features etched with unyielding stern.

'You could say. But for our purposes, Ranesk will suffice as a name,' came the stoic reply.

Nodding in reluctant acceptance, the general pressed on, a glimmer of begrudging respect flickering in his eyes. 'Let's get to the planning then'

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"In their own right, the Valorant agents possess formidable skills," Ranesk asserted, his voice resonating with certainty. "However, their true strength lies in their ability to command and coordinate during the operation. Without saying many words."

The general, wearied by the complexities of their impending mission, massaged his temple. "Yes, but let us not forget their proclivity for recklessness, particularly that white-haired individual," he countered. "And relying on the Swedish operative for breaching barricades underground carries its fair share of risks."

Ranesk inclined his head, acknowledging the validity of the general's concerns. Jett's audacious approach to combat was notorious, her pursuit of thrills and glory often leading to perilous situations. Breach, on the other hand, possessed the power to level entire structures, a force that could be precarious in the confines of subterranean tunnels.

"Rest assured, I will caution them about these risks," Ranesk assured, his tone brooking no doubt. The general arched an eyebrow, his skepticism evident, wondering whether the agents would heed Ranesk's counsel.