Before their expectant eyes, a big smile appeared on Murrey's face. He had felt the fear after so long, and the peculiar, but beautiful sight of the massacre that the Astartes of the Storm Hawks were orchestrating just twenty meters from where he stood was simply... Beautiful.

The emotion of adrenaline ran through his entire body, his fist tightened on his bolter and a supernatural desire urged him to charge against the enemies he had right in front of him. Even so, Murrey had already managed to repress those very primitive impulses that invaded his body.

He knew that he couldn't die, he knew that the entire central battlefield depended on his leadership, and keeping his head attached to his shoulders was his top priority. That's why those eight-foot tall giants in white armor crossed the entire battlefield like a shadow, only to land a fatal blow against the ork head.

Still, Murrey did not feel sad about not being able to fight such an exciting battle. Quite the opposite. He enjoyed seeing how the thousands of greenskins did their best to overcome the clutches of the Astartes, but not even one of them fell before the overwhelming numbers. But Murrey had other plans in mind. The ork in command pointed towards the carnage, and with a strange gesture that seemed to imitate a pistol, he lowered his thumb... and a Storm Falcon space marine fell down, with a huge wound running through his back and staw armor. .

While lighter Corvus-style armor was specialized for infiltration and stealth, it was still a powerful barrier against any enemy attack. So seeing one of their own fall dead on the ground, even though there were no orks near him, simply left everyone, including the orks themselves around him, stunned. And the worst of all, this was simply the first.

One by one, the Astartes of the Storm Falcons fell to an invisible enemy. Anyone might think that Murrey was using his Whaaag power at will for such a task, but nothing could be further from the truth, since the ork was still unaware of this ability. Still.

Still, that didn't explain why every time Murray lowered his thumb, one of the pale-armored Astartes fell dead with huge gashes that ran through his entire body. The captain of the small group, that space marine with the distinctive red helmet, watched without explanation as his men fell before a mysterious force. There weren't many left, and surely he himself would be the next to fall. Was there anything capable of surpassing the stealth of the descendants of the crow? Impossible... Or at least that's what I wanted to believe. But then he saw it.

It was an instant. A thousandth of a second. Something impossible for even an average Astarte to see. The captain watched in surprise as the air around him deformed, creating small turbulences that his genetically enhanced eyes were able to appreciate. Without thinking for a second, he launched himself at the shadow, waving his deadly electrified claws over the apparent nothingness, but then... he saw it. And they weren't just one.

Both the Astartes and the orks themselves were astonished to see how a select group of forty orks or less emerged from the shadows, as if they passed through the ranks of greenskins without being detected. Orks who carried specialized combat equipment and weapons more refined than the rest. But without a doubt, the most striking thing was their peculiar purple pattern that they had painted on their skin and clothing.

A myth. A living legend appeared before his eyes. Every Ork knows the importance of colors. Just as red makes you go faster, or yellow makes things explode louder, or blue gives luck to its wearer: Purple made an ork invisible. This may sound absurd, but given that Orkoid belief of billions of greenskins throughout the galaxy, these Orks enjoyed a Whaaag aura that made them practically invisible to mortal eyes. And only the captain of a company descended from the raven, the shadow masters, could detect a slight trace of their movements. [I don't know if this is canon, but it's common knowledge apparently.]

The Astartes of the Storm Falcons were reduced to just about five, who between the already numerical superiority, and this sudden turn of events, had been left completely at a disadvantage.

The captain of the falcons knew it immediately. That ork that he decapitated as soon as he descended was not the Warboss, it was all a damn mistake and they had confused their target. He looked around trying to find the true leader of the horde, but since Murrey did not stand out for his height he could not find him. He had failed... And they paid the consequences.

Captain: - WITHDRAWAL! -

At the desperate call of their superior, the five surviving Astartes took flight using their jetpacks to leave the area as quickly as possible. But despite his desperate attempts, the ground fire was too strong, allowing only the captain and two of his men to get far enough away to dissipate their presence in the thick clouds of pollution on the planet. Such a defeat would mark them for life.

Murrey watched his prey move away, but could do nothing to chase him, but something much more worrying caught his attention. When he looked down, he could feel his left hand trembling, while his right hand gripped his bolder tightly. Was that fear? Impossible. Orks are not afraid of death. That didn't make sense.

What Murrey didn't know was that this was a negative consequence of his own increasing intelligence. A very dangerous advantage, which could work against him. So I had to be careful. And I was aware of them.

The greenskins around them were so focused on celebrating their victory over those cowardly Astartes who didn't notice their moment of weakness, and by the time they lowered their heads, those strange purple-painted orks had simply... disappeared. Like the invisible darkness they always were. They were the shadow of the horde, and they would remain that way until the matazanos said otherwise.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the battlefield, Kurnet roared in fervor before the battle, more excited and annoyed than ever. As he had mentioned, the second Storm Hawk team tried to assassinate him before the fight began, but unlike Murrey, this ork's instincts and reflexes were on a completely different level.

Kurnet was the greatest warrior of the horde, and all the orks knew it, and his keen eyesight managed to detect the Astartes before they even approached. As the white crows fell on it, Kurnet screamed wildly as he fired all the ammunition from his ezcopeton, which was barely two shots, but just when one of the space marines thought he was able to pierce its green skin with his combat claws, he The only thing he could see was his own body split in half by the impossible force with which Kurnet brandished his bizarre sword full of spikes.

Kurnet shouted "cowards" from the rooftops. What kind of warrior uses such a pathetic strategy against his opponents? Those are not warriors. Those were cowards. And Kurnet would be in charge of blinding their lives one by one, forcing the rest of the greenskins to be nothing more than mere spectators.

One by one, the Storm Hawks fell to the fury of the strongest ork in the horde. His great sword left the Astartes' claws like insignificant toys. In fact, Kurnet himself was tempted to take the stawclaws of the armor for himself, but seeing the way he defeated the marines he became so disillusioned that he thought such weapons were not worth it. What Kurnet did not know was that simple Astartes were no match for someone who was about to reach the great Ghazghkull in strength and size. One who also had Gorko's curious eyes on his shoulders.

Still, the battlefield of Atem III was much larger than any Ork imagined. One that only Kanan and Murrey knew exactly.

Marine: - Marshal Warhner. We have received an emergency call from Colonel Tairon. Astra Militarum forces are engaging the Orks on the planet's surface. -

Warhner: - That? As? Did the scans indicate that there were no large groups of Orks on the planet's surface?

Marine: - We don't know it. But the colonel requests our reinforcements immediately. In their own words, they could be facing a whole horde. -

Werhner: - Some report from the Storm Hawks. -

Marine: - We haven't heard from them for several minutes. -

Werhner: - Understood. Turn around, we will return to Aten III immediately. -

The colossal imperial ships began to turn one hundred and eighty degrees back to Aten III, as they had to hurry if they wanted to arrive in time and help Colonel Tairon's troops.

As Astartes that they were, Astartes who were not descendants of the salamanders or the Wolf King, they did not really feel the need to save human lives, but if they could use the Astra Militarum troops for their objectives they would use it even if they had to use them as fodder. Canyon. Even someone like Colonel Tairon himself was expendable in an army of trillions across the galaxy... And Tairon himself knew it more than anyone. Still, their reunification plans may have been completely frustrated.

Marine: - Marshal. The ork ships are here. -

The marshal himself could not help but let out a sign of annoyance at the news. The arrival of the Ork ships was a major inconvenience, and he could already see the hundreds of pieces of metal and tape that the Orks called "ships" approaching on the flagship's monitors.

Werhner was more than concerned about the arrival of the Orkoiden fleet itself, he had something else on his mind that made him feel uneasy. The arrival of the Ork ships was... too timely. Just in time so to speak. But... it was impossible for the attack on the surface of Aten III and the Orkoid fleet to be coordinated. TRUE? They were orks after all. It was impossible for them to plot something that big. Or that was something the marshal preferred not to take for granted.

Werhner: - Let all capital ships confront the Ork armada. Let the support ships continue towards Aten III. Deploy all forces on the surface and eliminate every trace of green skin in the sector. And may the Emperor help us. -

Orko: - Ha ha ha ha. Look my bukaneerz. They arrrrrg juzt there. Our next prey. The warlord waz right. -

Squig: - He waz right. He waz right. - The parakeet squig that he had on his shoulder repeated.

Orko: - Zilenze, zweet water ditch. No one ztealz kigh Kaptain Gul'kar's moment to speak. -