A minute later, I returned in my command chair, to check on my loot and continue my current mission, the defense of Forge Gryphonne.

I was only interested in the Planet_Killer battleship modified by Abaddon with that giant Dark age of Technology beam cannon, which was exactly the kind of weaponry humanity needed to defend itself.

This type of cannon could be probably constructed by most Forges once an STC pattern was provided, and even a single barrel beam instead of eight would transform a light cruiser into a potent battlecruiser when talking about sheer firepower.

Of course, Trazyn wasn't the sort to work for free, but perhaps I could trade Ahriman for that. The guy should be historical enough for a museum piece.

So I checked the tesseract, opening the sorcerer's armor for...and he was not inside! Damn future reader had vanished, and left me a damn Rubric marine in his place!

I immediately began scanning the Chaos fleet once more, then the whole star system, even checking Eldar ships and my own. Absolutely nothing.

"I think Ahriman escaped, somehow..." I muttered in slight disappointment.

Amberley glanced at me curious, then back at the holoscreen. "The Sorcerer? I doubt he was that important." she answered in a casual voice.

Perhaps, perhaps not. The traitor Librarian was only second to Magnus in psyker powers, and Magnus was only second to the Emperor. Someone like that...could cause a lot of damage, even to people or places considered protected by Blank auras.

All psykers were inherently dangerous anyways, but Alpha level psykers were orders of magnitude more capable. Add to that a space marine's enhanced mind, and a dozen millennia of experience with warp spells...Ahriman could prove a thorn in my side.

A problem for another time anyways. I had Mortarion and Perturabo locked into blackstone cells inside the bad labyrinth, still covered in phase-iron dust and Pariah ash. Line the walls with Tyranid bioships and their Silence, and they shouldn't cause much problems for a while. Killing them would require the cursed weapon, or they'll just reform back into the Warp and return for blood. My blood.

Meanwhile, the Orks had managed to gain some control over the Chaos battleships and started firing their weapons in all directions, so I urged their Warboss to concentrate on the Tyranids.

I even helped with that, sacrificing a couple of Tyranid Narvhals to tractor the battleships towards the main Hive splinter, and getting the critters blasted to bits by Orks and eaten by the other Tyranids who didn't quite tolerate traitors to the race.

As soon as they entered weapons range, the battleships suffered a couple of plasma warheads right beside the main engine conduits, leaving them adrift but still able to fire.

All right then, the trap was laid and the Tyranids would have to eat their way through 25 kilometers of adamantium armor and the millions of Orks and cultists on board, right inside the optimal range of our Nova Cannons.

A perfect shooting gallery, for all three fleets holding the line above the Forge World.

The Eldar proved increasingly better shots as time passed on and their new crews got organized better, while my own fleet didn't quite need to aim perfectly. A single Nova Shell had a kill radius measured in dozens of kilometers of area damage.

Sadly, my poor allies on the right flank fared the worst, no matter how valiantly they fought. Improvised or outdated weapons couldn't hope to stop trillions of tyranids, and they were forced to retreat slowly behind the line of orbital forts.

The Eldar sped away on the left, trying to maintain a safe range to engage their enemy. I still had Ork Roks to throw as bait, and I did, while rapidly cycling through the tesseract to grab bioships and deposit them into the sun.

With such a convenient disposal method, I was certain to win in the end, unless I got too tired or the numbers overwhelmed me.

"Bring me a liter of recaf." I asked without turning, focused on the battle and safeguarding my ships and my allies.

At least the Chaos and the Ork forces proved a great distraction, allowing us to destroy billions upon billions of bugs with near impunity.

Even the smaller demons helped, especially with the smaller size Tyranids like flyers and spores, which proved easy prey for the winged demons.

Many of them also tried to make their way to their original target, meaning me. But I could always block their advance with more Tyranids. There were always more Tyranids.

However, by the next day I was falling asleep in my chair and more and more Tyranids got through, even managing to land on the Forge World and engage the defenders with billions of creatures, pushing through despite my best cheating tactics.

There were just too many...coming from every angle, from every side.

So I started releasing Dark Eldar ships manned by more Orks, even sacrificing two dozens priceless battleships for this task. The darklight lances of those ships were even more powerful than Eldar beams, plus whatever improvisations the Orks tried

which rarely resulted in more dakka, but instead catastrophic failures and even an engine detonation that shattered a nearby moon and killed billions of Tyranids with shrapnel the size of battleships.

Finding myself at the limit, I also released some Necron ships right in the middle of the swarm, masking their appearance with a firework display of Nova mines.

"These be the besties guns in the galaxy! Let's loot the biggest teeth from the teeth bugs! Look how many teeth we can grab! Waagh!" The next Warboss proclaimed all over the system as gauss beams and soon hundreds of more exotic weapons demolished the Tyranid advance.

I saw a Necron Scythe Ship blur and rush straight at the largest tendril, somehow mincing its way through a trillion tyranids before exploding in a green forcewave, ending the mental connection with that Ork boss.

"Fall back behind the forts!" I demanded with my last effort at staying conscious.

A then I fell asleep, and found myself in a flame lit cave. Beside me, a sleeping beast opened a red eye to watch me in hunger.

"Weak mortal. Even with all those tricks of yours, you still failed. Use me if you want to live." the beast claimed in an enticing tone.

Yes, we could rip that Hive Fleet to shreds...just let go. Become the Lancefire.

I held my hand out, and the beast morphed into a burning lance, lit up with distorted runes that seemed alive.

A rush of energy coursed through me, filling my mind with dreams of glory and conquest.

No. I had absolutely no need for glory. Glory was dangerous.

As for conquest...I squeezed my hand tight and made the weapon cry in pain while a black shadow gathered around me.

"You will learn your place demon. You now serve me, or else!" I shouted in a silent voice, while my black aura crushed the beast and made it bleed and scream in agony.

Damn demon weapon will learn to obey, or it will die. After all, I was the main hero of my story, and it, it was just a myth from superstitious humans.

"Stop! It hurts...you can make me feel pain!" the beast pleaded and resumed its original shape, a giant mouth of teeth and spiky limbs, tail clenched under my armored fingers.

"...It's decent start. Now, fuel the fire and let me sleep. Maybe one day you might feed again, if you behave." I grumbled and fell asleep again...entering the familiar desert where the Red Thirst had plagued me, and maybe killed me.

There was only Ludvaius here, giant hammer in his hands while sitting on a pile of white rocks.

"This place is rather boring now, Captain. No heat, no thirst...only white bones." he admitted and turned his head towards me, bionic eye replaced with the same red eye from before.

"Yes. It's how the final victory looks like, my friend. We will make a desert and call it peace." I mused thoughtfully, scanning over the bleached desert of dried bones and skulls.

"And you have never lost a battle, nor do you ever plan to, right Pef Lancefire? On the path you have walked...there are no more enemies left, because you only move forward. A trillion trillion enemies, they mean nothing in the end. Only ash and bones." Ludvaius claimed as his eye began glowing gold, pushing me away and back into my captain chair.

I shook my head in confusion, and struggled to unclench my right hand from the armored arm rest.

Visions sucked!

That was not Ludvaius, only something or someone using his form to connect to me.

Probably Ahriman, if he was this skilled. Most likely he was.

Anyways, a short nap wasn't bad. I felt energized and ready to take on a fleet. Maybe even a Hive Fleet.