"Who are you?!" They aimed their Lasguns right at me as I approached from the edge of the chasm. The survivors hid themselves well. The Orks were too large and too clumsy to even consider venturing into these caves as one had to crawl through several cramped and narrow tunnels just to get to the other side. How they managed to disguise an Earthshaker Artillery Gun to look like a dead tree and some dragged it into the cave system itself was honestly beyond me, but that was exactly what they did to ensure the Orks wouldn't spot it form afar. But I was proud of them, regardless. This was the human spirit at work, the resilience of humanity to stand against even the greatest and most unlikely of odds, because it was only because of that spirit, that rage against the dying of the light, that they lived even now.

The God-Emperor would be proud of them as well.

There were a total of twenty survivors. They lived off the thick green moss that grew in the caves of the mountain, I figured, as I absorbed a bunch of it and discovered that, oddly, it contained all the nutrients a grown human might need. A single square inch of it, in fact, held enough calories to fill a human's stomach for a full day. And the caves were absolutely brimming with the stuff. I even absorbed some of it for Biomass, gaining thousands of kilograms worth of pure Biomass from an inordinately tiny portion of moss. I wasn't sure how that worked, but I was no Biologis.

Just how long, I wondered, have these survivors been here?

I raised both my hands up and did not move a single muscle. Lasguns were one of the few weapons that could actually kill me if I wasn't careful. A single shot to the head, I knew, would vaporize my brain and my skull and I couldn't afford to die just yet – not when I had a mission to fulfill and certainly not when I had explicit orders from the God Emperor himself to survive and keep on growing stronger for the sake of all mankind. So, I could not afford to die here. But I also did not want to earn the ire of the survivors. If possible, I'd take them along so that they can serve the Imperium.

Most of them would probably die in the mission to destroy the Communications Jammer, but, in doing so, their deaths would have greater meaning than if they all died here because the Orks grew annoyed of their incessant artillery barrages and decided to carpet bomb the whole mountain range to dust. I've been an Ork once and I knew the foul xenos would resort to such tactics. Consequently, the Imperial Guard would probably do the same, honestly. So, these survivors were living on borrowed time. Either way, most of them were going to die. It was only up to them to decide if the manner in which they entered the God Emperor's embrace benefited mankind or not at all.

"I am Perry Anatinus," I said. "I am an agent of the God Emperor and a loyal servant of the Imperium. I come in peace. My mission is to destroy the Communications Jammer and secure a beachhead for an invading force. I came to you people, because I was told that there were no survivors on this planet. To all of you, I offer the choice to join me on my mission. Let us free this world from the Greenskins."

"Who the hell is this guy?"

"I don't recognize his uniform."

"He's probably just crazy."

"He's human, though; why are we aiming our weapons at him?"

"Oh yeah, good point."

Despite the doubt in their eyes, the survivors lowered their weapons, which was a good-enough response, I figured. If all twenty of them fired their Lasguns at me, no amount of transformations was going to save me. One of the survivors stepped forward, an aged man with silver-white hair, whose face was covered in numerous scars. "I am Markus and these miserable band of miscreants are all that's left of the Sylvia Stalkers – well, most of them, anyway. Some are former-civilians who were just unlucky. Welcome, Perry Anatinus, to our humble abode."

At his greeting, the band of survivors seemed to relax and disperse. Though, there were few places for them to venture into. I wondered, once more, as to where they acquired clean, drinking water. Was their a reservoir somewhere here?

I nodded. "How long have you been fighting the Orks?"

Markus shrugged. "No idea. We haven't exactly been keeping track of how long we've been here. All I know is that it's been a very long time. So, that's your answer. We've been fighting the Orks for a very long time. This moss is all that's kept us alive – and the underground river that flows in the deep caves – very dangerous, but water is a necessity."

I suppose that answered my question.

"Now, you said you were here on a mission, yes?" Markus continued.

I nodded. "I give you my word. I was sent to Sylvia to find a way to disable the Communications Jammer and to establish a beachhead. As we speak, Remus and Romulus are likely mustering for a full invasion. They await now only my signal."

Markus nodded and hummed. "The better part of me thinks you're a lunatic and that all of this is probably just a figment of your imagination. But, my instincts tell me you're not lying, which means I'm the lunatic, here. There is a Communications Jammer. The Orks erected it far north of here. I don't know if it's the only one in the entire planet, but destroying it should allow you to broadcast a signal from its immediate vicinity. I don't know about establishing a beachhead, however; you are but one man. An Ork Nob would rip you apart in seconds and there... billions of them out there. The only reason my band and I yet live is because we pick our targets properly, Orks whose absence would not be noted."

I wasn't sure how these people would react if I revealed my powers. So, at least for now, I had to keep that side of myself somewhat hidden. But that would mean I'd have no real answer to Markus' question. Because, without my abilities, I never would've even survived that first Ork Encampment. "I have been given tools to aid me in my task. Have your heard of a [Poor Man's Rose]?"

It was a piece of equipment I'd nearly forgotten about, just sitting and sleeping in my [Inventory]. "It is a tiny, thermonuclear device that, when triggered, has a blast zone of dozens of kilometers, more than enough to vaporize a million Orks at once. I will use it to establish a beachhead."

It was a lie, of course, but – by the time they realized the truth – it wouldn't matter anyway. Still, I suppose, it didn't sound like a particularly tempting offer. And I could've maybe come up with a much better lie.

"So, this is a suicide mission, then?" Markus raised a brow as he glanced over his shoulder and turned his gaze to his flock. He then turned back to look at me and shook his head. "I did not labor all this time to save these people, only to plunge them into a suicide mission that does not even offer the slimmest hope for survival. So, you're on your own, Perry Anatinus, unless you can come up with a better plan."

"Suicide mission? No, there are better ways to spend our lives in the God Emperor's service and, in this case, suicide is not necessary." I frowned. "No, we can simply sneak in, plant the bomb, and sneak back out before the Orks take notice. Yours being a small group should work to our advantage. The Greenskins are savage brutes. If we can issue a sufficient distraction, then they'll never notice us."

Another lie, because my previous plan had been to just manually kill as many of them as I possibly could, absorbing and growing my Biomass reserves. After all, there were so many Orks that I wouldn't have worry about ever running out of Biomass. I was also fairly certain that I could make my [Devourer] form, which is what I decided to call that mass of tendrils and bone and teeth and mouths, even larger than before. But, my on-the-spot suggestion seemed like it'd work just as well, even if it would inhibit my growth.

But, considering the whole planet was, in fact, infested by Orks, I was certain it wouldn't matter much in the long run. Once the beachhead was secured, I could simply venture ahead of the main force and do what I'd initially planned on doing.

Markus nodded thoughtfully. "Truth be told, I have no mind for strategy. I was just a guardsman; I followed orders and asked no questions. But I believe this could work. My group and I have observed, many times, that Orks are prone to devolving into violent mobs that attack each other at the slightest provocation. It is laughably easy to get the barbarian xenos to kill each other, honestly."

"Indeed," I said. "So, will you join me in my mission to reclaim this world from the Ork xenos?"

Markus stood quietly for a moment as he considered his answer. But I did not have to wait for long.

"I will. I lost my whole squad to these Orks, but I will not force my men to join me," Markus answere. I wanted to frown at that, but I didn't. He was already courageous enough to risk his life and I did not wish to insult his valor. Still, this sort of behavior told me that Markus and his group lacked faith. They were afraid of death. No true servant of the God Emperor was afraid to die for his cause. No true guardsman was afraid of dying for the future of humanity. But, still, some leniency was expected; his group had been surviving for years and years, cut off from the God Emperor's light, until my arrival. I could not expect of them the same fervor and faith as those who basked in his golden light on the daily. "I will ask them. Those among them who wish to accompany us will do so."

"Very well," I said, nodding. I also noted, just then, the excessive amount of dog tags he wore around his neck; mementos from his dead squadmates, perhaps? "Those dog tags..."

Markus blinked and glanced down, his hand caressing all the metal wrapped around his neck. "These were my brothers and sisters, each and every one of them."

Huh... I don't even remember what my squadmates looked like. Looking back, I wish I could've cared more about them, mingled with them when they ate or drank. But I didn't. I cared little for them and I still do. Even Duncan, who'd sworn himself to me, felt more like a distant figure who simply followed orders. I cared about him, but that care, I realized, came from a place of purpose. I didn't care about him as a person. Even Katarinya. I realized now that I hadn't seen her as a child, but as a future resource for the Imperium, someone who could better serve humanity if she was properly trained. How hypocritical it was of me, then, to think of all mankind was my brothers and sisters, when I hardly understood the concept of brotherhood. All I knew was sacrifice.

I frowned as I turned my attention inwards. I had been raised and taught to think of myself and others around me as little more than expendable resources, existing only for the greater good of mankind, to serve and die for the God Emperor, to be tiny cogs of a monstrously large machine.

But... what if I could be so much more than that, if I chose to? After all, I was human. To deny myself the basest of human connections would make me less than human. It'd mean I was closer to a machine. But I wasn't just a machine. I was more than that, right?

"I'll go talk to the others – see which of them are willing to fight with us." Markus said and walked away.

AN: Chapter 50 is up on (Pat)reon!