Cracking sounds of Assault Rifles and the high pitched whine of the Heat Lance echoed across the wartorn city. Energized plasma and heated bullets lit up the city;
the sky is covered in the darkness of dusk. The invading forces of the Kabal of the Bleeding Rose has arrived in midnight, catching the UNSC Forces by surprise.
The UNSC Marines were not prepared for such an invasion from an enemy that were much more powerful than the Covenant. Within three hours, half of the planet has been decimated into nothing but piles and rubbles. The Kabalite Warriors of the Dark Eldars were merciless as they slay foes; citizens and soldiers alike. Seeing no other choice for survival, the rest of what remains of the population has taken refuge into the very last city that was occupied by the UNSC Force. All defenses were concentrated on that single city. The request of assistance has already been broadcasted to the UNSC Navy, a fleet of battleships are arriving and relief is coming.
But first, they have to endure the trial of fighting the living embodiment of nightmare.
Across the blasted warzone of New Marais City, the Orbital Drop Shock Troopers of the 156th Battalion were defending the Northern Block where most Kabalite Warriors are coming from. Speeding across their Reavers, the Kabalites fired upon the weak soldiers with their Heat Lances. They intend to kill without a second thought and cripple as many as they can to bring into the Dark City as slaves. The fighting was intense, many soldiers from either sides had fallen. The ODSTs are able to repel the raiders but when one fall, two replaces them.
Lance Corporal John Whitford scanned his surroundings for any Kabalite Warriors that might have popped out of nowhere. He propped his Assault Rifle on the top of the metallic crate he was hiding in and stared ahead. His finger is inside the trigger guard, ready to fire at anything that is not human. Bodies of fallen Dark Eldars and UNSC Marines littered the street ahead.
Cars are burned and long abandoned. The pavement are filled with bullet casings and discarded empty weapons. The lamposts are bent, some are broken from the fighting. The buildings that stood tall above them has been the witness of the conflict happening down below. The skyscrapers had been abandoned, some of it are leveled due to the constant bombardment of the Dark Eldars. The windows are broken,
Whitford could even see the curtains from inside, being blown outside. He could still hear the muffled gunfire that originates from the other blocks. The fighting hasn't died yet, and it was clear that they are losing.
"Sir," A voice spoke from behind.
Whitford glanced behind and caught the glimpse of his subordinate, wearing the very same armor he was wearing now. He was holding his Assault Rifle tightly and his voice carried a hint of fear and exhaustion; something that is very common Privates. His armor bears light damage and it was splashed with dark red crimson, probably the blood of some fallen comrade. A small crack could be seen on his visor; his hands were shaking but his efforts of keeping it steady is visible.
"Report." He ordered.
"Sir, the main command has gave us an order to advance. The block was confirmed to be free from the enemy's control, based on the information ONI has gathered."
Glancing ahead, he held out a "go" sign before moving around the crate. The four man-team followed their leader as he jogged across the street. Whitford's motion tracker has detected numerous other ODSTs moving too. It seems like they received the order from the main command as well. He hopes that this will be over soon.
Baldeth peeked behind the wall of a still-standing building as he watched a squad of ODSTs advancing towards their position. The pesky humans were unaware of their presence, and they still have the element of surprise for them.
The black and grey clad warriors of the Bleeding Rose watched among the shadows as their preys come closer. Like sheeps being herded to a cage, the humans were unwittingly walking to their deaths. Very gruesome deaths. Baldeth grinned as he draws his Djin Blade, he watched intently at the passing ODST Troopers, aiming at their surroundings. They were paranoid, the Dark Eldar could taste their fear from his hiding place. They were afraid, something that excites him.
As the last of the ODST Trooper walked past by, he began his move, gliding towards a burning vehicle. The Trooper stopped and glanced around. He was left behind by his fellow squadmates. Baldeth grinned as he watched the ODST aiming at the possible location where the sound of the noise might have originated. His breath was heavy, his heart was pounding. Private Mark "Redshirt" Jenkins couldn't help but to feel being watched. He inserted his finger inside the trigger guard, walking slowly towards the burning vehicle on the left. He swear, he saw a shadow walked behind that thing. He thought for a second, maybe he was just hallucinating? Maybe it was the stress he felt? He was not sure but it be nice if he checks it out for safety reasons.
As Jenkins slowly walked towards the burning vehicle, he could hear the crisp of the flames eating away the rust metal. His visor glowed in green to aid him in seeing in the dark surroundings. Just as he was close, something yelled.
"Jenkins, what are you doing over there?!" A voice yelled behind.
Jenkins whirled, he saw his other squadmates waving at him. "Sorry, thought I'd see something from-" then an arm immediately wrapped itself around the Trooper's neck, putting him in a chokelock. Jenkins gasped as he saw a metal clad hand holding a blade;
the pointed tip is aiming at his visor. He accidentally lose his grip to his Assault Rifle as he struggled from the Kabalite's hug. It happened so fast, the blade descended on his face, giving him an instant death. Blood sprayed inside his visor. He never had the chance to scream as he fell on the ground. He felt two more sharp pains piercing through his guts before his breath was withdrawn from his lungs. Meanwhile, Jenkins' squad rushed over to his position. They saw one of "them", the Dark Eldars' Kabalite, the foot soldiers of their invading force, stabbing a friend they have known since Day 1 of Basic.
Automatically, Private Gary Burns raised his rifle. He wasn't thinking straight, his instincts is the only thing that is driving him to live and survive. He trained his rifle at the damned alien but suddenly, a blast from a Haywire Blaster had pierced through his visor.
He fell down with a loud thud, missing the chance to avenge a fallen comrade. His fellow Troopers had seen what just happened. The marksman who have done this is probably hiding behind one of the empty buildings around them. They are sure that whoever did this has a smile on his face by now.
"Get down!" Lance-Corporal Ray Abnett yelled as he rushed to his right, ducking behind an abandoned trash compactor. The squad leader was aware of the losses his squad had endured. It wouldn't be long enough for his team to be overrun by this breathing nightmares. There are three of them remaining and fighting God-knows how many Kabalites out there would probably end with them being slaughtered helpessly. Abnett could see his subordinates rushing towards his position. He watched as Private Jackson get shot multiple times, shaking as the plasma hits his body.
He fell on the ground, dead in an instant. His remaining two squad members hid with him as they fire at the enemies unknown.
"Our Father," Private August Lux began. "Who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy-"
"Save your prayers, Private. Your God isn't going to help us anytime sooner unless you man up and shoot those flying boys in the face!" Abnett yelled as he heaved a sigh. Something caught his attention on his left. He glanced and found himself looking at an alley, covered in complete darkness.
Something had moved there. He moved closely, ignoring the noise his subordinates made in the fight. As he came to a close, blue glowing orbs suddenly lit up, staring back at him. Abnett raised his rifle to fire, but it was too late as the figure had pierced him with his Agoniser sword. The squad leader could feel pain in every inch of his body, the burning sensation had consumed him. It was so strong that he could hear himself screaming and crying at the same time. The figure raised him up. He removed the blade from Abnett's ribcage then hacked his head with it. As he walked out of the alley, the fire revealed his appearance; an Incubi in a dark and grey armor, stained in dark crimson liquid. He approaches the two remaining ODSTs, who were busy fighting the Kabalites.
"You shall be the message to your masters that this world is ours!" The Incubi laughed as he began his work of pain. Soon, the Troopers screamed in an endless agony.