Travel to Warhammer 40K with Gray Wind

Russell took off his mask, burned the vomit on his face with psychic flames, pinched his nose and looked around amidst the stench.

This fortress is the largest building on the Battle Moon, but the word "fortress" actually describes its level of defense. The overall shape of this large building is actually a towering spire.

The arsenal for assembling ancient giants and iron giants, the shipyard for building starships, and any other orc war facilities are all centered on this tower and radiating out in all directions.

However, only by entering the interior can we really know that this majestic tower is only covered with a thin layer of iron on the surface. There is no metal component at all inside the building. There are twisted and strange purple-red flesh everywhere, and the whole thing is a Ironbark's giant sarcoma.

Russell pinched his nose and took a closer look. He could vaguely see blood vessels inside the slightly pulsating wall. The floor under his feet was also greasy and soft, as if he was stepping on the belly of a greasy fat man.

He walked along the stinky corridor of flesh and blood. Apart from the fortress itself, he didn't see any living things along the way. Only in some hidden nooks and crannies can one occasionally see structures resembling tree roots protruding from cracks in the wall.

The ethereal spiritual energy danced slightly in his eyes, and the scene in front of Russell changed rapidly.

Passing through the waves of subspace, he saw that before he arrived, a fierce battle took place here.

These strange tree-root-like things were actually big, strong, and heavily armed green-skinned orcs. The Space Marine commandos that broke into the fortress paid a heavy price after a fierce exchange of fire before wiping them all out. Go deeper.

The orc corpses that were blown to pieces by bolters underwent some unexpected changes after the Astartes left - their flesh rotted rapidly, and thick roots were pulled out from the corpses. It crawled into every dark crevice like an earthworm, took root in the dirty flesh and blood in the fortress, and never moved again.

Russell squatted in the corner and used the huntress's blade to pick up a slimy root nodule. It seemed vaguely that it was gradually growing into a human face. The small appearance was really friendly.

"It's so contaminated, I don't know if it can still be used." Russell shook his head and sighed, shook the slime off the blade, and continued walking forward.

He did not encounter any danger along the way. The structure in the fortress was intricate, like the blood vessel network in the human body. The orcs who stayed behind were either assimilated by the fortress, and the remaining few troops were mostly absorbed by the Astartes. Killed.

The reason why Russell never saw the traces of the battle was because whenever the commando team ended the battle, the Sisters of Silence in the team left with the team, and the flesh and blood corridor without the influence of the untouchables would immediately return to the control of Chaos.

Whether it was the corpses of orcs that were blown to pieces, or the chainswords that were broken in the fierce battle, or even the bullet casings thrown by large-caliber firearms, or even the corpses of space warriors wearing ceramite armor, they were all quickly integrated into this living fortress. Become squirming flesh.

Russell's footsteps continued to go deeper underground, and the influence of the surrounding subspace became more and more serious.

Gray Wind once wondered why the Battle Moon had not provided any fire support to the space naval battle in orbit since it appeared over the second moon, and had completely become a motionless decoration. Why were the orcs with the superior force still being defeated by the Empire? The fleet is chasing after them, why are there so few escort fleets following this celestial-level arsenal.

Russell can give answers to these questions now.

It's simple - this battle moon is rotten from the roots. Only the industrial area on the surface of the star still retains the ability to fight, and its interior has been completely deformed into a filthy cesspool filled with stinking odors.

Russell wanted to chat with Gray Wind on this topic, but at this depth, the interference of the subspace was so deep that the conventional communication methods in his hands were useless. It was not ordinary that he could not find anyone to communicate with in such an environment. dull.

Closing his eyes and feeling the subspace evil energy surging deep underground, Russell could feel the stinking pus from Nurgle and the orcs' waaagh!!! The force field was engaged in a subtle but fierce confrontation every moment.

It is precisely because of the existence of the waaagh!!! force field that the power of Nurgle has never been able to truly come. In such a place polluted by chaos, there are no cute gadgets like Nurgle squirming everywhere.

At the same time, they resisted subspace pollution and the pursuit of the imperial fleet. It's a shame that they can hold on until now... that is, the greenskins. If any imperial world suffered from such pollution, they should have dragged their families and people to join the gang. For a moment, Russell actually began to pity the orcs, feeling that it was really difficult for them.

But mercy is mercy, and what needs to be recycled must still be recycled. The bugs are coming.

Russell burned the mask in his hand to ashes, and replaced it with a hazy psychic fog covering his face.

After re-camouflaging himself, Russell followed the pace of the commandos and rushed to the deepest part of the fortress.

Under the fortress, countless flesh-and-blood corridors are intricately intertwined into a blood vessel-like network. Its scale has far exceeded the size of the building itself, making people feel as if they are walking in a dream.

The deeper you go, the weaker the existence of the real universe becomes, with less and less steel and more and more biological tissue.

Thick tree roots and blood vessels, rotten abscesses and mucus appeared more and more frequently on the surrounding walls. From time to time, a few slimy snot-like gadgets would appear, indicating that a loving father's love was about to come.

And at the end of this vascular network, in the deepest part of the fortress, on the floor flowing with turbid soup, there is a throne of flesh and blood covered with tumors and pustules.

This throne belonging to the orcs was originally made of steel, but now it is covered with all kinds of grotesque teeth and lymphatic tissue. The thick tree roots are like a palm that tightly grasps the entire throne, and also grasps the person sitting on it. Big green guy.

Muffled whispers echoed around the throne, like a kind father taking pains to express his clumsy love to his children. The strong orcs wrapped in rotten flesh and roots responded with angry grinding sounds and low roars.

On this evil torture instrument that no longer belongs to the real universe, it is "waaagh!!!" that always maintains its will.

This is a long tug of war, but the end is in sight, and it will be a loving father's victory.

But suddenly——

The rumbling chain sword split the muscle fibers wrapped around the wall. The burly warrior wearing pitch black armor held a sword in one hand and a gun in the other. He walked through the blood and pus on the ground and broke into this area filled with blood and pus. A blasphemous place of chaotic energy.

The battle brothers who accompanied them had lost more than half on the way here, but they were not timid in the face of the twisted and strange evil scene in front of them.

The Astartes monks and the only remaining Sister of Silence followed closely the steps of the Chapter Master. The think tank in the team opened the "Emperor's Words" in his hand and chanted in a low voice, trying his best to use his spiritual energy to help his comrades. Drive away the evil forces that seek to corrupt their armor and hearts.

Accompanied by the sticky sound of flesh and blood being torn apart, a huge hydraulic claw broke through the wall. One of the two Holy Dreadnoughts accompanying the commando had fallen. The surviving person was driving the mecha that had begun to show flesh and blood distortion. Having made it this far, he is always ready to use his own life to give the boys the final help.