Outside the hive city, a storm of yellow sand filled the sky. The endless Gobi Desert stretched in all directions, baked under a merciless sun.
A small squad of Astra Militarum soldiers stood beside a Chimera APC, along with a single small figure in a red robe.
The soldiers lounged against the vehicle, idly kicking at the sand. The robed figure, meanwhile, was hunched over the open engine compartment. A mechanical sensor embedded in his forehead blinked red at intervals as he worked diligently on the damaged engine.
“I say, Archer, how much longer are you going to keep fixing it?” Garry asked lazily, leaning against the Chimera’s tracks while chewing on dry rations he had scavenged.
“They say Tech-Priests are supposed to be amazing,” he continued. “So why are you fixing a broken engine like you’re constipated?”
Archer looked up and glared at him.
“First of all, I’m not a Tech-Priest yet—just an apprentice. It’ll take me another ten years of hard work before I qualify.” He returned to the engine. “Second, it’s almost done.”
“How many times have you said ‘almost done’ now?” Garry muttered. “And ten years? Who starts a game and spends a decade as an NPC’s apprentice?”
“I have my reasons,” Archer replied flatly.
“So,” another voice cut in—Name—“does anyone know what time it is? How much longer are we stuck out here doing nothing?”
“Another two Terran hours,” Archer answered without looking up. A built-in timer ticked in his vision. “If we don’t find any ork traces by then, we return to the hive city.”
“Why don’t we use a Valkyrie for reconnaissance?” Garry asked. “It’s faster.”
“A Valkyrie isn’t a recon aircraft,” Archer snapped. “And it’s too loud, you idiot. I haven’t complained, so you shouldn’t either.”
He paused, then added bitterly, “Besides, at least you can reset your body by dying. If I die once, I lose my apprentice status.”
“Can you three focus on something serious?” AlphaBravo sighed, sweeping his gaze across the endless desert.
“Serious?” the others asked in unison.
“For example…” He pointed into the wasteland. “How exactly are we supposed to fight millions of greenskins in terrain like this?”
Silence fell.
The desert suddenly felt heavier.
“Uh…” Garry scratched his head. “Maybe we should wait for open beta? More players, higher-level squads… this feels like endgame content.”
“I think the scouting mission is correct,” AlphaBravo said calmly. “The orks are there whether we fear them or not.”
He pointed into the distance.
“If we don’t track their movements, and they launch a surprise assault during this recovery phase, the hive city won’t survive it.”
“Alright—fixed it!”
Archer slammed the engine cover shut with a metallic click. “Omnissiah preserve us… that was a headache.”
AlphaBravo glanced at him. “Do you actually believe in the Omnissiah now?”
Archer gave a dry laugh as he climbed into the vehicle.
“My faith in the Omnissiah is like a student during an exam,” he said. “Can’t solve the problem, so I pray to God, the Three Pure Ones, Buddha, and Allah at the same time. Very pious.”
Suddenly, Garry pointed into the distance.
“Hey… isn’t something off over there?”
A plume of dust was rising on the horizon.
“Sandstorm?” AlphaBravo guessed. “Get in the vehicle. We move—”
“No.” Archer’s mechanical eyes narrowed. “That’s not a sandstorm.”
His vision extended farther than the others’. A Chimera APC appeared at the edge of the horizon.
“That’s Third Company, Second Squad. Same deployment batch as us.”
“Are they being chased by a storm?” Name asked.
“No…” Archer’s expression darkened. “That’s not a storm.”
He paused.
“It’s greenskins.”
“Thousands of them.”
He spun around immediately.
“We need to—”
The Chimera behind him was already sealed.
AlphaBravo leaned out from the passenger seat. “What are you standing there for? Get in!”
Meanwhile, Third Company, Second Squad was in far worse condition.
“RNGesus!” Pyro shouted from the rear gunner position, clutching his promethium flamer. “I told you not to roll that damn dice! You rolled a THREE! A THREE! And you still took a recon mission!”
“We’re completely screwed!”
“Try to stay positive,” RNGesus replied from the driver’s seat. “At least we finished the mission. That’s ahead of most players.”
“Positive your grandmother!” Pyro snapped. “You’re not afraid of dying, but I’m carrying a promethium flamer that I love!”
Ahead of them, a massive ork roared from his warbike.
“UMMIES! STOP RUNNING!”
“Fight your mom!” Pyro yelled back instinctively.
“COME FIGHT!”
“Fight your mom!”
“COME FIGHT!”
“Can you two stop?” RNGesus finally snapped. “Are you children? Next you’ll start saying ‘No U’ in triplicate.”
Pyro fell silent.
“This isn’t working,” RNGesus continued. “Tell that ork we’ll stop and fight—but only a one-on-one duel. If I win, he lets us go.”
“You want a duel… against a warboss with ten thousand boyz behind him?” Pyro stared at him.
“What?” RNGesus scoffed. “You think I can’t handle him?”
Pyro said nothing.
His expression said everything.
“Hmph.” RNGesus reached into his pocket. “Truth is… my divine dice cooldown just ended.”
He pulled out a rune-carved die glowing faintly in his hand.
“I’ve rolled hundreds of times,” he said proudly. “And this is the first time I’ve ever rolled a 3.”
He raised it.
“Now watch. RNGesus is about to style on the greenskins.”