The sun dawned in the lightless depth. Multiple suns in fact, the fiery blooms were muted by the incomprehensible vastness of the ocean. The sight reminded Damien of red dwarf stars, the last guttering light before death finally claims the ailing celestial body. The faraway explosions painted the dark depth in deep carmine, which only makes the bottom half of the Hive more fucking creepy. No beautiful Southeast Asian architecture here, nope, only the typical slum of the Imperium of Man. Blocky buildings crammed into every available space, the walls and roofs leaning into each other until the dimension looked decidedly non-Euclidean. The roadways immediately before Damien were littered with garbage and appeared to curve into multiple directions at random, the corridors between each domicile looked so small that a Chihuahua was gonna have a hard time squeezing through. All in all, this place was an absolute shit hole.

"Yo Tangmo, what the hell is going on up there?" Damien tapped his awesome Astartes helm. He and the main characters were all looking up. "Is that depth charges I'm seeing?"

"Deep Ones and shoggoths everywhere man," Tangmo told him. "You guys found anything yet?"

"Beside the creepy lightless slum at the bottom of the ocean, we haven't…," warning sigils blared across Damien's visor, the built-in motion detector glowing red as multiple lifeform converged on them. Although the guttering lampposts and soft dying lights from the malformed buildings provided no meaningful illumination, Damien can see shadows peeling off from deeper darkness. "Call you later Tangmo, we've just found something."

"Good luck dude."

"Form up around the elevator! Stay close and be ready to open fire! For life and for light! And for the Emperor too!"

Lita gave her command the moment Tangmo cut transmission and the troops swiftly closed rank around the elevator platform that had descended from the halfway point between the upper and lower Hive. The Astartes, guardsmen and Aeldari had just completed the defensive circle when Lita tapped the ground with her Singing Spear, the pleasant metallic chime rolled softly across the dark slum as a dozen orbs of white fae light hovered into existence. And just like that the veil of night was swept aside, but goddamn Damien kinda wished it didn't.

"Welp, this place can seriously give the Xenomorph's nest a run for its money," Damien grunted and braced his bolter to his shoulder. With the aid of Lita's light, it became evident that the malformed dimension of the slum was brought upon by biological degradation. Thick pulsating layer of translucent murky slime covered the buildings, the churning membrane heaving one tortured breath after another as if alive. Low ululation rolled over the troops, revolted by the Mexican Warseer's fae lights.

"Eww, are those eyeballs?" Why the hell did Lita have to point this particular detail out? The slimes were already disgusting beyond words, so did it really needed all those blinking eyeballs and snapping fangs and twitching talons?! "Gross, let's hope it doesn't start sprouting tentacles."

"Tangmo mentioned the shoggoths showing up, right?" Henry blanched visibly when the bulging oracular receptors turned toward them. "I think we've stumble into its nest."

"Flamers to the front!" Antalok bellowed and the Salamander Marines marched forward, bright blue fire burning at the tip of their flamethrowers. "Cleanse this place in holy fire!"

"I completely agree with the direction you're going Antalok, but I think we need to switch the tools around a bit," Damien politely interrupted the Salamander Brother Sergeant. "Use meltas and plasmas, if you use flamers the entire freaking slum could catch fire. And that will make our job unnecessarily difficult."

"Of course! Forgive me Brother Captain, I let passion get the better of me," Antalok nodded, drew his plasma pistol and waved his double headed power axe in the air. "Pick your target and wait for my command!"

"Things are moving out of the alleyways and down the roads my dudes," Erik appeared beside Damien, his unblinking gaze trained down the iron sight of his Aeldari sniper rifle. "And if I learn a thing or two from Tangmo's many lectures, shoggoths are not bipedal."

Indeed what emerged from the slum were not shoggoths, they were…Deep Ones? Yeah they're Deep Ones alright, but these sorry decrepit specimens, covered in unmentionable filth, appeared caught mid metamorphosis. Come to think of it they actually look like the denizens of Innsmouth, if Damien remembered Lovecraft's story correctly. The mutated bodies, the bugling eyes, the thick lips peeled back to reveal rows of needle sharp teeth and the hunchback posture, yep, they're Deep Ones before they became…well, Deep Ones.

"You are not welcome here!" Rasped a grotesque fishman at the front, the mutant was raising his ancient laspistol with great difficulty. Now that Damien got a good look at the shambling mob, the semi-Deep Ones were in very rough shapes. Not only were they physically crippled, with twisted legs here and missing arms there, malnutrition was also in great evidence.

"Yes…not welcome, but also welcome," a Deep One standing behind the leader of the mob, this one retaining more human features than his peers and carrying a staff studded with bony protrusions, leered at the battlegroup like they were slabs of meat at the butcher's stall. "The Great Lord of the Wave had sung from the abyss, these intruders will do nicely. The last batch ran out so quickly."

"Okay, that's kinda lame," Erik and Damien traded looks, not at all impressed by the deformed fishmen. "I mean, can't they come up with something more creative? This is shit sounds like a shitty Disney Plus and Netflix show, fucking young adult shits trying to pass itself off as being mature."

"I know what you mean," Damien rolled his eyes with a groan. "But seriously, I can forgive these assholes for being unoriginal. Unlike Mickey Mouse's cronies, the people here probably suffered from acute mental degradation."

"You will die like all who had trespass this sacred realm! All of you will…!"

The mob leader's declaration ended with a wet splat as Damien nonchalantly turned his head inside out with a bolt, the mass reactive round cutting through the staff bearer and three other people before exploding, resulting in more messy death.

"And it was in this moment that the Deep Ones knew, they fucked up," Damien knew he butchered his Morgan Freeman's impression thanks to his awesome Astartes helm, but the battlegroup got the message and trained their weapons forward. "The heretics and mutants wants to die, brothers and sisters, let us oblige them! In the name of the God Emperor destroy them all! And may Isha have mercy upon their souls!"

The killing was spectacular and terrible, a cacophonic conflagration of unleashed weaponries. Roaring bolts tore into the Deep Ones, sending blood and viscera skyward in a fine velvety mist, the ghostly haze simmered from the heat of the exploding rounds. To Damien's flanks and rear precise uninterrupted volley of las and shurikens scythed into the mob, although the result was not as gloriously violent the death the guardsmen and Aeldari reaped upon the mutants was staggering in scope. Plasma and meltas were starting to demolish the shoggoths infested buildings when a shining multi-facet diamond appeared above Lita. The jewel of blindingly pure sorcery was spinning. When the revolving speed reached a blurry zenith, bright blue lasers shot forth from the crystalized surface, lancing out in an encompassing bombardment around the battlegroup. Damien was grinning ear to ear as he reloaded his bolter and watched Lita performed her immaculate destruction, the hail of lasers hitting targets that maximized casualty and shattered morale. Soon enough the Deep Ones wise the fuck up and started running away, but it wasn't a rout, disorganized for sure but it was clear the fish people's conviction were bruised, not broken.

"They're running," Lita smirked when nothing but charred ruin ringed the battlegroup. With a wave of her hand the diamond turned into glittering mist. "I'll never get tired of seeing them run away."

"A fleeing enemy will always be a beautiful sight, lady Warseer," Antalok didn't sound too happy. "But the amorphous slimes that had covered the buildings slithered away as our attack begins, most of them escaped our wrath."

"Wait, seriously?" Damien took in the destroyed slum. "I mean, I'm having a hard time telling apart the liquefied remains of all the shit we've just killed."

"Antalok is right dude," Erik narrowed his eyes on the carnage. "I caught a bit of that before we started blasting, the moment you guys opened fire the shoggoths scattered and crawled away deeper into the Hive."

"Well that's just fucking fantastic," Damien groaned and swept a quick gaze over the desolation the battlegroup had just made. At least everything within the immediate vicinity was dead, which was a good development by any stretch of the imagination. He knew their current advantage will not last, so he waved over his Space Marine buddies. "We have two choices before us gentlemen. Choice number one, we proceed with our mission and retrieve the data inside the STC. Choice number two, we retreat back to the surface, get the fuck off this planet, and declare an Exterminatus on the fuckers. Trust me, I studied the Lovecraftian mofos with Tangmo and we're facing multiple gods. Personally I want to sucker punch an eldritch god as much as the next dude, but I don't want people to die needlessly." He then looked at Gallus, Antalok, Adelhard and Subutai in turn. "What say you?"

"So we are fighting gods?" Adelhard spoke up and goosebumps danced across Damien's skin, the dangerously eager timbre was undeniable. "I fear not the darkness and the monsters that dwell within Brother Captain, for I carry with me the light of the God Emperor and with it I shall burn the shadow. These gods are unwanted guests, and we shall teach them to fear the God Emperor quick enough."

"Beautifully spoken my dude, badass and poetic," Damien nodded sharply and quirked a brow at the other Astartes. "All of you are of the same mind?"

"Indeed Brother Captain, we fear no darkness."

"Where you go we shall follow Brother Captain, to victory and triumph."

"Aye Brother Captain, it has been too long since we get to hunt something new and exciting. Let's make the Khan proud."

"That's what I want to fucking hear!" Damien smacked the Brother Sergeants heartily on the pauldrons while the other Marines cheered loudly. "Let's not waste any time then, form up!"

"Now hold on just a minute," the snarky self-satisfied announcement elicited a long childish groan from Damien. The Canadian Marine spun around to find a grinning Lita standing behind him, hands on hips in a superhero pose, accompanied by exarch Elraleath and exarch Olatien and their Dark Reapers and Fire Dragons respectively. "You're not going anywhere without us young man!"

"But mom, me and the boys just wanna go kill some heretics and kick eldritch gods in the balls!" Damien whined, even with the awesome Astartes helm distorting his voice he managed to sound marginally like Eric Cartman. "In all seriousness though, I'm glad you're coming along. If there's one thing that can possibly fuck the eldritch gods over, it's Aeldari magic."

"Thanks for the words of confidence," Lita smiled prettily then closed her distant menacingly with Damien. "But I'm tagging along to make sure you don't go full ham, you know, like wrecking everything just for the fun of it instead of concentrating on the mission?"

"Madam, we are Space Marines, the God Emperor's Angels of Death!" Damien declared incredulously. "We do not sway from the sacred mission of eradicating the enemy of the Imperium of Man. When have we ever gone on an unhinged killing spree anyway?"

"Before Godzilla showed up, just last month," Lita deadpanned and held up a finger to stop Damien from verbally retaliating. "I can list off more incidents throughout our illustrious career, but time is of the essence and I don't fancy wasting it on a one-sided argument."

"Okay fine!" Damien accepted defeat and turned to Erik and Henry. "Let's go then my guys, I know both of you are dying to tag along."

"Hard pass."

"Not this time dude, sorry."

Damien rounded on the Swedish elf and the American general with such speed that a sudden gust whipped across the main characters. He made sure that his breathing was menacingly slow and tinged liberally with madness as he glared at the aloof pair, both of whom were totally unaffected by his intimidating countenance.

"I'm sorry, what?!" Damien bellowed so loud that the air vibrated. Erik and Henry responded by sticking their pinkies into ear canals and twirling it a bit. "You're not coming with me?!"

"That's what we've just said," Henry traded confused look with Erik. "Is your helmet busted or something?"

"It's not busted you a-holes, I heard you perfectly the first time!" Damien tapped the side of his awesome Astartes helm, "Tangmo, you there?! Come in, over!"

"Is it urgent? I'm kinda super fucking busy here," Tangmo was panting on the other end, the hisses and bangs of gunfire and barking shouts of officers boomed loudly in the background. "Just got back to the surface yo, holy shit that was one hell of a run, gonna need a minute to catch my breath."

"You need to get down here and blam Henry and Erik!" Damien made his demand. "They're refusing to kick ass with me!"

"Motherfucker I'm not going back into the water," Tangmo countered and after getting his breathing under control continued. "And I'm sure Henry and Erik have good reasons for not wanting to tag along. Well guys?"

"All joking aside, me and Erik need to remain here," Henry began and held up an apologetic hand. "We want to go with you man, seriously, but after seeing how big and how fucked the bottom level is we've come to the decision that this place is where we need to be."

Damien blinked several times then took in their immediate surrounding again. Grunting when he saw what Henry was trying to tell him.

"You're staying behind to cover our retreat," Damien spoke up and nodded slowly. "The access elevator needs to be defended against counterattacks and kept secure so that reinforcement from the surface can come down while the wounded can go back up. You guys will be the lynch pin that keep our lifeline to the top open."

"We'll be keeping ourselves busy too," Erik twirled his finger in the air, "because we're taking the other elevators."

Okay, so, Damien was admittedly a bit bummed out when Henry and Erik decided to stay behind, but seeing what the Swedish elf and the American general was proposing he couldn't help but agree with them. Unlike the picturesque and orderly layout of the upper portion of Hive Somnus, the part hidden beneath the wave was predictably the polar opposite. The dome shaped underwater structure was behemoth in size, about five times larger than its surface counterpart, and every effort was used to cram as much urban hell and misery into the singular confined space. Maddening webs of crisscrossing scaffoldings and wires hung down from the ceiling in uncountable multitude, chaotic and cancerous in presentation, a growth left unchecked until the crawling limbs of rusty iron almost reached the habitation below. And piercing through this cumulonimbus of untamed engineering were thousands of elevators, circular and rectangular chutes of varying sizes rising up to the world above, looking almost like pillars desperately holding up the crumbling roof of a rotting grave.

"That will make transporting things to and from the combat zone a lot easier," Lita commented with a pleased nod. She then pointed at the chutes nearest the central elevator. "You're taking those ten?"

"Nice catch," Henry grinned. "We're gonna expand our area of operation to en compass the auxiliary elevators, right after we demolished everything within a ten kilometer radius." The American general took out his data-pad and quickly typed across the screen. "Tangmo, you still there dude?"

"Got everything cleared up with Damien?" Tangmo sounded a lot better, calm and cool under pressure.

"Oh yeah, we're back on the same page now. Anyway, I need your help a bit," Henry swiped away several charts on the data-pad screen. "I'm sending you the coordinate of ten elevators that connects with the surface, can you keep them secure? Wounded will be transported back up that way and we need supplies coming down on the return journey."

"Copy that, we'll get right on it after we beat back this latest wave, which should be in a couple of minutes," Tangmo was obviously nodding on the other end. "Stay safe dude, given how bad things are on the surface, I couldn't even begin to imagine what it's like down there. Emperor and Isha speed my dudes."

"Thanks man, I'll catch you later," Damien cut transmission, rolled his shoulders, and then held his fist out to Henry and Erik. "Don't leave without me, alright?"

"Won't even dream of it," Henry said firmly as he and Erik touched fist with Damien, the trio looking super badass like a spread on a Shonen Jump magazine drawn by Hirohiko Araki. "One punch Cthulhu for me dude."

"Fuck yeah I will," Damien made a quick sequence of hand signals and the Adeptus Astartes swiftly formed into a battle column, indomitable in conviction and spirit as they stood before the burning ruin, ready and eager to meet the eldritch gods and their spawns. As Damien went to join the four Brother Sergeants, Lita appeared soundlessly beside him, her Aeldari retinue having gone and augmented the Space Marines formation. "You ready dude?"

"Always am," Lita tapped her Singing Spear on the ground and the blades of the polearm flare radiant silver, the warmth pulsing from the weapon was invigorating to behold, "when you're ready."

"Forward brothers and sisters, suffer not this darkness to prevail a moment longer, in the name of the Emperor let none survive!" With Damien and Lita in the lead, the combined force of Astartes and Aspect Warriors took off into the burning slum, behind them guardsmen and eldars cheered boisterously in farewell, weapons brandished in salute. Moving at a speed that no mortal man can hope to match, the Marines and Aeldari were blurs as they jogged through the carcass of the lower Hive, bodies and buildings no longer distinguishable. A short time later they entered another section of the slum, the façade of claustrophobia and rots unchanging in uniformity, and Damien was extremely thankful for Lita's light. The weak smattering of electricity that had existed near the central elevator barely reached this part of the slum. The place was fucking pitch black.

"I'm not gonna lie, this is pretty scary," Lita made her comment as the column slowed down and set up a perimeter around a large intersection, the Marines and Aspect Warriors spreading out across the chaotic roadway with bolters, Reaper Launchers and Fusion lances trained on the surrounding crooked buildings. "There's something in the darkness, an oppressive power that seeks to break the body as well as the mind."

"That's Lovecraftian for you, it's the creeping horror and realization that everything is inescapable and hopeless that gets you. One moment you're ready to throw hands with hell, and before you know it you'll be weeping like a baby while committing seppuku," Damien let his gaze drifted upward, the blooms of exploding depth charges continued uninterrupted. "I seriously didn't think they would attack us head on like this, I thought it would be more subtle and insidious."

"When in Rome I guess, or in this case, when in the Imperium," Lita lowered her Singing Spear at a malformed amalgamation of townhouses melded grotesquely together until it resembled a bulbous mushroom. The light shining from the Mexican Warseer's polearm revealed a murky, uneven surface that slithered with clear sentiency. "The shoggoths are back."

"We are surrounded, Brother Captain," Gallus spoke up, his tone calm and very clearly pleased. "What are your orders?"

"The only order that can be given in such circumstance, although I believe it will be very much to your liking," Damien grinned as he raised his bolter and aimed it at cluster of gnashing teeth and fangs. Around him the Marines and Aeldari braced their weapons and stood at the ready. "Pick you targets and open fire! For the Emperor! For light and for life!"

Bolts, shurikens and lasers flew across the darkness in a great kaleidoscopic tidal wave, and for the minutes that followed the oppressive ebon of Hive Somnus were shattered by flames and thunders. The Astartes and Aspect Warriors combined assault was thorough and encompassing, yet precise in its inhuman accuracy. No ordnance was wasted, every shot finding a target that either resulted in crippling or fatal injuries. The shoggoths were terrifying to behold, cool as all fuck but super horrific in every sense of the word, the continuous muzzle flashes further enhanced their daemonic dimension. And these fuckers were huge, the smallest rivaling a pickup truck and the biggest towering above a house.

But as the ancient maximum goes, size doesn't matter.

The shoggoths advance from four directions at once, their movement possessing the most primal form of cohesive cognition, talon studded tendrils and snapping teeth lunging and swiping at the battlegroup. It was in this moment that Damien was glad Henry and Erik stayed behind. He had no doubt that guardsmen and Guardians would put up one hell of a fight but the shoggoths were fast, the deadly appendages moved in a blur as they detached from the main heaving mass. Unfortunately for the slimy bastards they weren't fighting regular troops who can be easily picked off, they were fighting Astartes and Aspect Warriors and a Warseer.

"Look lively guys, don't get tangle up – hey!" Sparks flew off Damien's pauldron when a wickedly barbed tendril crashed into his ceramite armor with a grating squeal. The hooked protrusions tried to find leverage, failed, and darted back like a retracting frog tongue. "Motherfucker I just got a new fucking paintjob!"

"They are pretty fast, I'll give them that," Damien reloaded his bolter with a groan as Lita danced lithely across the firing line, the shoggoth in front of him ululated agitatedly when the Mexican Warseer easily dodged and leapt over the dozens tentacles snapping her way. Every graceful maneuver was accompanied by streaks of ethereal silver as her Singing Spear cleaved through the air, where the blade touched the shoggoth's limbs crumbled to sizzling ashes. "You should be more spritely if you don't want to get hit."

"I was just telling the guys that!" To demonstrate that he was equally fast, Damien leaned and ducked a barrage of stabbing tendrils, a grin splitting his face when none of the talons made contact with his venerated armors. He flipped the bolter to full auto and held the trigger down on the shoggoth's largest mass, it squealed in agony as thirty bolts turned the churning membrane inside out in a great splatter of brownish red ichor. Damien magnetized the empty bolter to his hip and drew his thunder hammer, the polearm roared to life as blue static bolts danced across the head. "Now for a little experiment, I wonder what's gonna happen if I bonk this motherfucker!"

"You idiot, don't melee the eldritch Lovecraftian abomination!"

Damien barely heard Lita as he went airborne, roaring at the top of his four lungs with the thunder hammer held high above his head. The shoggoth spun around to face the flying Canadian Marine, every bulging eye conveying fully its uncomprehending shock. By the time the Lovecraftian monster came to the conclusion that it must do something to preserve its life, Damien had brought the thunder hammer down. There was some resistance when the power infused metal sank into the sentient slime, like moving in tar, but a few seconds later the inertia ended as the shoggoth's physical construct reacted violently to the Adeptus Astartes's polearm. For one horrifying moment Damien thought the shoggoth was growing bigger, but then he saw that the body was expanding like a bubble, everywhere he looked the slime was boiling and smoking. Then like a balloon popping the shoggoth's miserable life ended in a great explosion of viscera and gore, murky pieces of the monster flying off in every direction.

"Always making a mess! Granted, it was extremely effective, not to mention quite heroic too," Damien couldn't help but beam brightly when Lita gave him a cheeky grin, the Mexican Warseer had somehow managed to escape the shoggoth's icky demise as was evident by the lack of muck on her armor. He was about to comment on this when another shoggoth charged them, bulling over the sizzling remains of its kin. Before Damien can shout a warning Lita nonchalantly raised her hand, like how a Mafia don call for silence, and the shoggoth came to a screeching stop, the twitching tendrils halting a few inches shy of touching her head and back. Spinning around, Lita gently placed a finger on the nearest appendage. "Now, let me show you what a clean kill is."

With a playful tap the shoggoth went rigid, the bulging curves bending and contorting at angles that would make Euclid and Pythagoras cringed. A noticeable spasm rippled across the shoggoth unmoving mass as it continued to fold and implode upon itself, like rigor mortis coming over a recently deceased body. Then without any massive explosion or shrilly announcement of death, the shoggoth disintegrated, the liquefied remains spilling over the battlefield to lap wetly against Damien boots.

"Ew, this is like if a sewage pipe burst," Damien groaned and kicked a congealed meat across the intersection. A quick glance told him that the shoggoths were getting one-sidedly slaughtered by the Astartes and Aeldari. "And I thought you said this was supposed to be clean?"

"It is clean," Lita waved her Singing Spear at the puddle that used to be the shoggoth. "The only part that got dirtied is your foot."

"Still would be a pain to clean off though," Damien gave his legs quick shakes. The filth came off pretty easily. "That was awesome though. What did you do exactly, Kung Fu pressure point or something?"

"Nothing like that, I just honed in on the core of the shoggoth's existence, aka the brain. It wasn't easy mind you, the shoggoth possessed multiple lesser brains that can act as emergency power if the main one got destroyed," Lita explained easily. "I just locked on to all of the brains and send physic bolts into every one of them simultaneously, with special attention on the main brain."

"Holy shit, that's freaking amazing," Damien nodded vigorously. "Can you do it again?"

"Not a problem, and if I start getting tired you can always swoop in with your hammer," Lita's start of a smile ended when she rounded on a cluster of desolate buildings. "We got companies. They're not shoggoths and there are many of them."

"It's the Deep Ones, stupid bastards thought the shoggoths already finished us off," Damien hefted his thunder hammer up at the ready. "They're about to be very disappointed."

Damien stood his ground, tilting his head left and right until it cracked satisfyingly. Not a minute had passed before the Deep Ones emerged from the surrounding buildings and roadways and alleyways, their deformity did not impede their boisterous advance. As he was deciding whether to wait for the onslaught to come to him or heroically charged the oncoming horde, Damien was peppered by poorly aimed lasbolts and bullets. The volley was fired in rage and was therefore lacking accuracy and discipline, in effect rendering the attack negligible.

"Wait, those fuckers have guns?" Damien was genuinely surprise as he turned to Lita. The Mexican Warseer had summoned a transparent magic shield, not that she needed it because the Deep Ones can't aim for shit. Realizing how stupid he sounded, Damien facepalmed himself. "Of course they have guns, this is the forty second millennium, the cheapest firearms are fucking lasers. They can't aim worth a shit though."

"Well, they're not exactly physically fit, are they?" Lita commented as Damien put away his thunder hammer and drew his bolter. "I mean, these people are not full-fledge Deep Ones yet, they're in that awkward stage between human and fish, which explain why they look sickly and malformed, almost made me feel bad for killing them…almost."

"All I know is that I'm about to enjoy this," raising the bolter and training his eyes down the iron sight, Damien flicked the switch to semi-auto and coiled his finger around the trigger. "This will take only a second."

Okay, so it took more than a second, close to ten minutes to be precise. The shoggoths were not difficult foes to begin with, and the proto Deep Ones just lowered the difficulty by several more levels until it felt like he had stumbled back into the tutorial section of a video game after maxing out every stat. Everywhere the bolts struck a good dozen people died from the bullets and exploding shrapnel, the gore and the blood and the viscera giving the bleak landscape a much needed paintjob. By the time he'd slammed a new clip home and started advancing, the proto Deep Ones' attack had been shattered, the Dark Reapers sending several parting salvos after the fleeing mutant fish people.

"So far so good," Damien took in the smoldering ruins that used to be houses, hotels and shops ringing the four way junction, the battlegroup having completely flattened the place with their overwhelming firepower. The altered landscape unfortunately revealed only more metropolitan rots, a dead city of crumbling decay that loomed like tombstones amidst unending twilight. The encompassing vista of macabre metallic grandeur was intimidating to behold. "But holy fuck, where the fuck are we supposed to go?"

"That way," Lita pointed at what should be the south easterly direction where Somnus Mare largest cathedral was situated, and where the STC also reside. The Mexican Warseer couldn't hide her grimace when she saw the way ahead of them. "Not really the Yellow Brick Road, is it?"

"More like a highway to hell," Damien chuckled lowly but his mirth ended when a series of booms erupted behind him, this was quickly followed by hisses and cracks of electricity and low sonorous hums. He spun around with bolter raised and found that the ten elevators surrounding the central lift had lit up, lances of light shooting unwavering up to the surface, the platforms already rising. Letting out a breath of relief, Damien tapped his awesome Astartes helm. "Yo Henry, Erik, please tell me you guys are doing that."

"We are," Henry made his confirmation. "Honestly it wasn't even that hard, the power stations were badly defended. So we took over the place and fortified the areas around it, the place is big but we have enough troops. There were a lot more fireworks on your end my man, do you need back up?"

"Nah, we're good, just done kicking the Deep One's asses," Damien grinned and glanced up at the Hive's stygian nimbus. "Actually, do you guys have any drones? It'll be nice to know what in the hell we're walking into."

"Say no more dude, we already have a few dozen assembled and put on standby," Erik told him. "Give us a minute or two to get them airborne."

"Thanks dude, catch you later," Damien terminated the transmission and took off down a southerly road, waving for the Marines and Aspect Warriors to follow. "Let's get going people, the eldritch gods and their minions ain't gonna kill themselves, they're overdue for several cans of painful ass whooping!"

"Wait, you're leaving now?" Lita slipped in beside him. "I thought you were gonna wait for the drones?"

"We should be fine in the meantime, it's not like the Deep Ones can hurt us," Damien shrugged and turned to Lita, the Mexican Warseer knew he was wearing a shit eating grin so she pursed her lips at him. "You scared?"

"I most certainly am not!" Lita huffed and bonked his pauldron with the flat of her Singing Spear. "Fine then Damien, lead the way. As I've said before, I'll bail you out of trouble when things eventually go to hell like they always do."

"Thank you kindly," Damien gave Lita a thumbs up and together headed down a sizeable avenue that appeared to be reserved for vehicles and transportations, the Marines and eldars marching close behind them in a tight formation. Damien had to give credit to the Deep One's collective intelligence, for despite the HUD of his awesome Astartes helm detecting many of the fuckers lurking nearby none dared to obstruct the battlegroup.

"We got eyes in the sky dude," at Henry's utterance Damien held up a fist, stopping the column. He then typed across the data-pad attached to his armguard, updating the map and sending it to everyone in the column.

"Thanks Henry," Damien held a corna up at the drones buzzing overhead before taking off again with Lita and the battlegroup. "Alright my dudes, we're fortunately heading in the right direction and will be reaching what looks like an infirmary shortly, so safeties off and be ready for hostiles."

"And keep your wits about you, brothers and sister," Brother Sergeant Adelhard added and held his power longsword up at the ready, his grip tightening visibly. "We are being watched."

"Oh definitely," Damien nodded his acknowledgement. "I can see the ugly fuckers peeking through the doorways and windows."

"I was not talking about the fish mutants, Brother Captain," Adelhard shook his head in the negative before sending his red slit glare across the dystopic metropolis. "Something else is here, I don't know what but I caught glimpses of it in the shadows."

"Did it take the shape of a man and was all black?" Lita asked Adelhard. "As in, it looks like he was carved out of the deepest night. Hazy and fleeting, his corporeal form disintegrating to wisps the moment we try to look at him."

"You are completely correct, lady Warseer," judging by the tone, Adelhard was more than relieved that he wasn't the only one seeing this enigmatic entity. "I can sense that it is maligned, the foul stench of sorcery hover thickly over him. Are we dealing with a psyker of some sort?"

"I hope it's only a psyker, because what I perceived is dangerous to the extreme," Lita said. "Keep your eyes peel Adelhard, and tell the rest of the Astartes to be wary. I think it would also be a good idea to start praying to the God Emperor, something tells me the man in black is not a big fan of the Golden Throne."

"No evil shall escape the vigilance of the God Emperor and his faithful, lady Warseer," Adelhard answered firmly and relayed his orders to his fellow Space Marines. "A prayer to Isha will also be of great help, I'm sure this abomination will also flee from her light."

"Say no more Adelhard, I'll get to praying immediately," Lita gave Adelhard a playful salute, but her mirth disappeared when she closed her distant with Damien. She pointed at her ear, indicating that she wanted a private conversation. When Damien flashed her the okay sign she said. "Damien, I think we're in serious trouble."

"Kinda late to be figuring that out," Damien's attempt to lighten the mood failed miserably when Lita shot him a deathly unamused look. "Sorry. What was it that you saw exactly, Chaos or Lovecraftian?"

"He's Lovecraftian, one hundred percent," Lita grunted, her tune displeased, "I know who that was."

"I'm not going to like this, am I?" Damien braced himself for the bad news.

"You won't, sorry," Lita gave him an apologetic smile, took a deep breath, and said. "It's Nyarlathotep."

Damien's only display of distress was a long drawn exhale. Cthulhu might be the most famous of the Lovecraftian gods, and rightly so because he's one scary motherfucker, but Nyarlathotep was a close second and he's nothing to scoff about. While Cthulhu's modus operandi was more nuance, taking a backseat role when guiding his followers, Nyarlathotep took the Vince McMahon route when making his power move, which means he did everything directly. If Nyarlathotep was making an appearance, then the situation on Somnus Mare just went from worse to holy shit we've just entered the event horizon of fuck. Although Damien was not religious by any stretch of the imagination, in that moment he recited a litany of protection to the God Emperor. The response was immediate, warmth suffused his body, coursing through synapses and veins and strengthening his already superhuman physique. Buoyant by the heavenly energy, Damien found himself unburden by fear or hesitation, ready for what was to come. If the Lovecraftian gods want a ceramite boot shoved up their collective asses, Damien was more than happy to provide a thorough colonoscopy, free of charge.

"Can't say I'm surprise, we're pretty much a magnet for interdimensional fuckery at this point," Damien shrugged good-naturedly and made sure there was a smile in his distorted voice. "Always wanted to know who would win between Cthulhu and Space Marines."

"Not the kinda thing I want a firsthand experience in, I very much prefer arguments on Reddit, 4chan and YouTube," Lita's goofy grin suddenly morphed into steely stoicism, the speed of the change almost gave Damien whiplash. Her steps slowing, Lita held up a fist and brought the entire column to a stop. The guttering street lamps were barely functioning, but it was enough to reveal the misshapen edifice of concrete and steel looming before them. "Please tell me that's not the infirmary."

"It is, sorry," Damien grunted, tapped off the data-pad on his arm, and held his bolter at the ready. He thought about drawing his thunder hammer but pushed aside the childish impulse, there were times when cold pragmatism win over rules of cool, and this was one such occasion. Spinning around, Damien addressed the Marines and the Aeldari. "Loose formation but stay within each other's line of sight and keep your eyes sharp, advance!"

The clicks of primed and readied weapons answered Damien, and with firm steps they left the hardened asphalt and treaded a surface that heaved and churned with the consistency of mud after a storm. Damien blinked several times to change the visor display and just as he suspected the ground had turned organic. He swept his gaze left and right and was really freaked out to find that this part of the Hive had been completely taken over by a myriad of xeno organisms, most were of the microscopic bacterial kind but some were larger and more complex. The grotesque mass of churning unnamable creatures, bearing resemblance to ant swarms and congealed rat kings, took up large chunks of the roads and buildings, effectively turning the immediate theater of operation into one gigantic hostile organism.

"Hold up people," Damien held up his fist and approached a plinth. Instead of a statue it was occupied by a tall cancerous obelisk covered in inky tar, the pulsating texture was very fleshy in appearance. The battlegroup warily formed a crescent as Damien approached the twitching sculpture, one hand extended forward. "We need to know what in the hell we are dealing with."

"Are you stupid or something?!" Lita blurted, eyes wide in shock and disbelief. "For the love of the God Emperor and Isha, you cannot seriously be thinking about touching that thing!"

"That's exactly what I'm doing," Damien deadpanned and quirked an annoyed brow at Lita, not that she can see it beneath his awesome Astartes helm. He then wiggled his fingers like Kazuma at her. "Besides, I'm clad in ceramite from head to toe, nothing can freaking touch me."

"This is exactly how idiots in horror movie dies," Lita facepalmed and shook her head in admonition. "Just because you're wearing Space Marine armor doesn't mean you're invincible, there's no freaking way this would end well if you poke that thing. I mean, what outcome are you expecting exactly? It obviously gonna attack you!"

"Would you relax? I'll be fine," Damien was rightly miffed when Lita barred his way with her Singing Spear. "Seriously?!"

"Seriously. Now back up, I'm doing you a favor here," knowing that Lita wouldn't budge and trying to fight her will only end in disaster, Damien settled down with a huff and a slew of Canadian curses. Very pleased that she had stopped him, Lita turned to the sculptor and started flicking her fingers in quick sequence. "Now, let's do this safely and reasonably without the need of a jump scare."

Lita's logic was reasonable and sound, but that didn't stopped Damien from sulking at having his curious tendency smoldered by the Mexican Warseer. Still, he was professional enough to behave with the needed martial severity, so he trained his bolter at the fleshy obelisk as Lita finished her magical display. A perfect crystal hand of pure energy hovered before them, and with a gentle nudge Lita send it floating toward the writhing sculptor, the limb moved fluidly and naturally as it splayed its fingers wide. The hand was a few inches away from the sculptor when Lita's predication came true, horribly. The obelisk shrieked abhorrently, the surface parted to reveal rolling eyeballs and multiple sets of chattering maxilla and mandibles as tendrils shot out and latched on to the hand. Damien and Lita traded looks, and with a snap of her fingers reeled the hand back, the task proved surprisingly difficult by the unexpected strength of the tentacles.

"Why does it always have to be tentacles?" Lita groaned and placed the hand between her and Damien, the limb was cracked and twisted nastily. "As you can see, the entire hand is crushed. And before you ask this crystal is the same kind I used for my force field, so there's literally no denying how dangerous that thing is."

"Yep, I can see that. Thank you by the way, I don't want my hand crushed like that," Damien elbowed Lita friendlily after she brushed away the mangled crystal hand. "And don't worry about the tentacles, these ones aren't interested in groping you, they just want to murder you."

"That make me feel a lot better," Lita rolled her eyes then tilted her body to the right so that she was looking passed the fleshy sculptor. "How are we proceeding? This isn't the only growth protruding out of the ground, nor is it the biggest. By Isha, I swear some of them are hiding beneath rubbles or camouflaged with the surrounding."

"With most of them congregating around the infirmary," Damien tapped the side of his awesome Astartes helm. "Henry, Erik, come in, are we going in the right direction?"

"Yeah, you're going the right way," Henry made his answer. "I mean, there are several other routes you can take but its roundabout and unnecessarily time consuming. Did something happen?"

"Shit's getting kinda scary in this part of the Hive, but we'll manage. I'll give you a holler if something comes up, Damien out," terminating the transmission, Damien locked eyes with Lita again. "Can I make a recommendation?"

"If it's burning everything to the ground, then you have my full support," Lita shivered visibly when the sculptor in front of them became more animated, it's as if crushing the crystal hand excited the fucking thing. Getting herself under control, Lita flashed a series of hand signals. "Olatien, get your Fire Dragons up here, there are weeds that need exterminating."

"Antalok, light the flamers my dude, you and the Salamanders are taking centerstage," Damien held out his fist as the Salamanders went to join the Fire Dragons, Brother Sergeant Antalok bumping it with heart. Flashing Antalok a parting corna, Damien turned to the remaining Marines and the Dark Reapers. "You guys will be in the supporting roles. Gallus, Subutai, Elraleath, I want the Ultramarines, the White Scars and the Dark Reapers to spread out and form a loose firing line, I doubt the creepy daemon tree things are gonna stay still after they get immolated. Adelhard, you and the Black Templar take position behind the Salamanders and the Fire Dragons, longswords ready in case anything survive the fire. Something tells me they're gonna charge us head on."

Astartes and Aeldari nodded their acknowledgement and within heartbeats assumed the correct formation, weapons brandished at the forest of twitching sculptors barring their way to the infirmary. Grunting appreciatively, Damien made his way to the front of the firing line, joining Lita, Antalok and Olatien.

"Ready?" Damien trained his bolter forward.

"Oh yeah," Lita stabbed the Singing Spear into the ground and got into a badass pose, like a high mage about to unleash hell upon her enemies. Exhaling slowly, banishing the last of her revulsion, Lita fixed her unblinking gaze on the Lovecraftian horrors and said. "When you are ready, exarch Olatien, Brother Sergeant Antalok."

"Into the fires of battle, unto the avails of war! For the Emperor!"

"In Isha's name let them burn! For life and for light!"

No matter how many times Damien beheld the power of Warhammer 40k's incendiary weapons he couldn't stop an ecstatic shiver from traveling up his spine. The sublime destruction unleashed was so encompassing and absolute in brutality that it took on an almost divine quality. Darkness screamed as promethium flames and concentrated lasers poured inferno on to the throng of fleshly sculptors, consuming the Lovecraftian floras within moments. The writhing obelisk nearest to them, the one that had attacked the crystal hand, managed a heartbeat of agonizing shriek before promethium fire reduced it to bubbling burning ashes. As Damien had anticipated, the fleshy trees that were further away didn't died immediately, the immolation convincing them that staying immobile wasn't such a hot idea. The floras burst into maddened animation, fire wreathed tendrils waved blindly across the air, creating a mesmerizing lightshow as they bounded for the progenitors of their painful demise. Now that the place was lit up brighter than a freaking Christmas Tree Damien saw that the floras possessed big elephantine legs, each sporting six to eight in numbers. These things had a name, but Damien brushed aside his pondering and took aim at one of the charging abomination. Bolters flashed, fire roared, and swords sang their howling requiem as the battlegroup brought death upon the Lovecraftian horrors. Damien's plan had proven to be solid and effective, bolts and shurikens made short work of the walking daemonic trees and the ones that managed to get within melee range were swiftly cut down by the dutiful Black Templars, pious litanies and prayers accompanied the blue flashes of the power longswords.

"Press forward, nice and slow!" At Damien's command the battlegroup went on the offensive. The tempo of the march was tempered, the synchronized footfalls melodically falling into rhythm with the death dealing cacophony. So loud was the symphony of destruction that the baleful screams of the Lovecraftian monsters were momentarily muted. Ejecting a spent magazine and slamming a new one home, Damien leaned down to Lita. "You think we're winning?"

"Looks like it," Lita nodded and leveled her spear at a trio of daemonic floras rushing them, these three fuckers looked less singed than their comrades. Before Damien can even raise his bolter the Lovecraftian horrors exploded in a shower of gore, their limbs eviscerated and mutilated into lumps of twitching meats by Lita's invisible magic. "You can actually hear it, they're no longer screaming because they're all dead."

Sweeping his gaze quickly over the burned out and gutted landscape, Damien concluded that Lita was completely correct. The battlegroup was within spitting distant of the infirmary, and where the daemonic floras had formed phalanxes around the building nothing remained but steaming gibs and messy gore. Larger cancerous growths still clung to the six storey house of healing, but after a quick bio scan Damien concluded that these abominable specimens were docile unlike their smaller counterparts. Damien wasn't taking any chances though, so he held up a hand and flashed a quick sequence of hand signals. The Marines and eldars responded by rendezvousing around him, weapons brandished across the smoldering battlefield.

"Gallus, Antalok, Adelhard, Subutai, you guys are with me, we're gonna breach the infirmary first," Damien replaced the standard bolt rounds with the Hellfire variant, because the Lovecraftian horrors were organic and nothing kills organic faster than acid. Gallus and Subutai however stowed away their bolters and drew close quarter weapons, a chainsword for the former and a power dao for the latter, joining Adelhard in the melee club. "Lita, hold position out here and be ready to assist. If I don't call back within ten minutes please come and rescue us."

"I'll be here," Damien was about to enter the infirmary when Lita reached out and grabbed his arm, a light hum passed through the ceramite and pulsed against his skin, the feeling was that of a light squeeze. "Stay safe Damien, take care of yourself."

"Always am Lita, thank you," Damien's massive hand clasped softly over Lita's smaller own, the scene was both comical and heartwarming. "Be safe out here, okay?" Lita nodded and Damien released her. Giving his shoulders a few badass rolls like a wrestler hyping himself up in the gorilla, Damien joined his Space Marine buddies and held his bolter up at the ready. "Let's go gentlemen."

Damien launched his foot at the double door entrance, sending the two partitions flying inward with a resounding bang, the twisted hunks of metal skidded across the interior in a shower of sparks. Trading look with his Marine comrades, Damien was the first to enter the infirmary and found himself bathed in a weak but constant light. He had expected the place to be dark, but despite being covered top to bottom in writhing eldritch growth the electricity was still functioning. When he discerned that the place was empty of threat, Damien lowered his bolter and walked to the center of the awing hall, flanked on both sides by the four Brother Sergeants.

He took in the infirmary, sighed gravely, and tapped the side of his awesome Astartes helm, "Lita, can you please get in here? I'm kinda scared right now."

Within a heartbeat Lita and the rest of the Marines and eldars had joined Damien and the Brother Sergeants, and like the latter the new arrivals were struck silent by the macabre vista that dominated the floor, walls and ceiling of what was once a house of healing.

"Holy God Emperor and Isha, what even is…?"

"Do a head count Lita," Damien spoke up before Lita can finish her sentence. "I don't want some horror cliché shit like our people disappearing one by one when we weren't paying attention."

"Hang on," Lita listed off the Astartes and Aspect Warriors and gave an affirmative grunt. "Everyone's here."

"Good," Damien held the bolter closed to his armored chest and took in the grotesque amount of corpses around him. The orderly arrangement only heightened the macabre quality of the encompassing panorama. "Because we're gonna need every gun for all the fucked up shit that's about to happen."

Lita verbalized her agreement with a loud gulping swallow, the Singing Spear in her hand brightening visibly as she held it up in a defensive guard. Wholeheartedly sharing her sentiment, Damien trained his bolter at the quartet of monstrous corpses sitting limply against a large beam that had been deliberately placed at the center of the hall. They were Chaos Astartes, Black Legion Chaos Astartes, their damaged heretical armors drenched in dry blood. But what makes this scene more alarming was the condition of the Traitor Marines. Hands manacles behind their backs, feet chained together at the ankles, necks fixed to the pole via collars and chains. And if seeing the Chaos Astartes reduced to such a sorry state wasn't enough, the top half of their heads were missing, everything above the brows were removed with surgical accuracy and cleanliness. Oh, and the skulls were empty.

"Holy fucking shit, someone went full Hannibal Lecter on his ass," Damien blurted, his helmed head darting left and right. "Correction, someone went full fucking Hannibal Lecter on all their asses!"

"I fucking hate that movie, I'm still mad at Laura and Tangmo for tricking me into watching it," face scrunched up in disgust, Lita jabbed a dead Chaos Astartes with her Singing Spear, thankfully the Traitor remained dead. "But yes, a craniotomy, and performed on Traitor Marines of all things."

"They were not the only ones who had received invasive surgeries," Gallus waved his chainsword across the hall. "This is not an infirmary, this is an operating theater."

The Ultramarine Brother Sergeant was completely correct, much to the absolute dismay of Damien and Lita. Scattered around the hall were corpses, a most mundane scene when Warhammer 40K was concerned, but what made this particular example of mass death unsettling was the fact that there was clear conscious thought put into the placement of the deceased. The dead, heretics all, were laid out in groups and cordoned off with clear marking painted on the ground, very reminiscent of a butcher shop where each pieces of meat were categorized and kept separated. The bodies were operated on, the mutilations and vivisections done with finesse that bespoke of great understanding of the human anatomy. The trails of blood marring the ground indicated that some of the cadavers were taken elsewhere.

"Spread out and secure the hall," Damien made his order and the Astartes and Aspect Warriors swiftly went to task. "And be careful with the bodies, there's no telling if they're really dead or not."

"The Deep Ones didn't do this," Lita shook her head as the four Brother Sergeants gathered around the dead Chaos Astartes. "They help with what happened here, that's for sure, but the dissection itself was performed by others."

"Mi Go, Elder Things?" Damien asked, very well aware that the Sergeants were looking at him. "This is like At the Mountain of Madness but on a more horrific scale."

"Both the Mi Go and the Elder Things, if I was to make an educated guess," Lita turned to the Sergeants. "Laura can fill all of you in on the details. The Mountain of Madness was an incident in Segmentum Obscura, Laura studied it after her encounter with the Cthulhu cult."

"What is the combat capability of these new foes, lady Warseer?" Subutai spoke up, the White Scars sergeant was twirling the power dao easily in his hand. "Compare to the wretches we have fought earlier, will they prove to be a greater threat?"

"I believe so," Lita nodded and stroke her chin thoughtfully, brows drawn together in rictus concentration. Due to her extreme dislike of the horror genre, Lita's knowledge in regard to HP Lovecraft and his cosmic creations was very limited. "They're smarter than the Deep Ones and the shoggoths, that's for sure."

"A lot smarter too," Damien added. Although his forte lies with JRR Tolkien's Legendarium, he was no slouch when Lovecraftian lore was concern. Tangmo was a surprisingly good teacher in this regard. "We need to be extremely careful from this point on, the Mi Go and Elder Things' fighting prowess are unknown but I'm willing to bet those fuckers are deadly. I mean, look at how they massacred the Chaos Astartes…"

"Hostile! Make ready!"

At Adelhard booming announcement, Henry and Lita followed the trajectory of his pointing sword to the back end of the hall, bolter and Singing Spear trained forward. What Damien saw almost made him shit himself. Standing tall and unconcerned by the Astartes and Aeldari guns, his regal posture conveyed his low regard for the inconsequential creatures around him, was a humanoid composed of the deepest stygian night, a living shadow that was an abhorrent anathema to all that was right with the universe. It was Nyarlathotep, the Crawling Chaos, the God of a Thousand Form, the Stalker Amongst the Stars, the Black Pharaoh himself in the flesh. Cradled within his arm was an ovoid object pulsing blasphemous violet light.

"Open fire! Kill that motherfucker!" By the time the Astartes and Aspect Warriors squeezed the triggers Nyarlathotep had already vanished in a puff of black mist, bolts and shurikens and meltas and plasma hitting nothing but air and ground.

"Oh fuck," was all Damien could enunciate as he tapped his awesome Astartes helm. "Umm…Tangmo, we have problem."