The Salamanders pressed deeper into the bowels of the augur-station on Gherash, their every step marked by caution and determination. The walls around them pulsed with an alien rhythm, the once-pristine Imperial architecture overrun by grotesque Tyranid biomass. Tendrils, pulsating with a sickly green light, snaked across the corridors, dripping with viscous fluids that pooled on the floor.

Daedren took point, his shields raised as he led the squad through the narrow passages. His armor, scarred and battered from earlier engagements, hummed faintly as the kinetic absorption systems he’d crafted redistributed the force of earlier impacts. Each step he took was measured, his senses heightened by years of relentless training and the lingering weight of his own doubts.

Behind him, Captain Thran walked with steady purpose, his chainsword resting lightly against his shoulder, its teeth still caked with xenos ichor. The rest of the squad followed in formation, their bolters sweeping the shadows for any sign of movement. They had fought hard to reach this point, but the mission was far from over. The augur-station’s core lay ahead, its systems offline and its defenses overrun. Securing it would mean cutting through the heart of the Tyranid infestation.

“Erath,” Thran said, his voice low but commanding, “any sign of movement?”

The auspex in Erath’s gauntleted hand hummed faintly, its screen flickering with a steady stream of data. “Multiple bio-signatures ahead,” he replied, his tone calm. “Mostly smaller organisms, but there are larger entities interspersed. They’re concentrating near the core chamber.”

Thran nodded. “Prepare for engagement. Daedren, hold the line when we make contact. The rest of you, focus fire as directed.”

The squad moved with practiced efficiency, their movements synchronized and deliberate. As they approached the core chamber’s entrance, the air grew thicker, the temperature rising as the infestation intensified. The walls seemed alive, pulsing with an unnatural rhythm that set Daedren’s teeth on edge.

Then, without warning, the chittering began.

It started as a faint, insect-like clicking, growing louder with every step. The shadows ahead shifted, and Daedren caught the faint glint of chitin in the bio-organic light. His shields snapped into position, the adamantium slabs braced for the inevitable charge.

“Contacts!” he shouted, his voice cutting through the oppressive atmosphere.

The first wave hit like a flood. Termagants surged forward, their fleshborers spitting projectiles that splattered harmlessly against Daedren’s shields. Behind them, the swift and deadly Hormagaunts leapt toward the squad, their claws glinting with venomous intent.

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“Engage!” Thran bellowed, his chainsword roaring to life.

The corridor erupted into chaos. Bolter fire filled the air, the sharp reports of explosive rounds punching through xenos flesh and bone. Daedren held firm at the front, his shields absorbing the brunt of the Termagants’ attacks. As a Hormagaunt lunged at him, he slammed his shield into its path, the force of the blow crushing its fragile body against the wall.

Caldon stepped forward, his flamer spewing liquid promethium that engulfed the oncoming swarm. The air filled with the acrid stench of burning Tyranid flesh, the creatures’ shrieks echoing through the corridor.

“Keep them back!” Thran ordered, his chainsword carving through a trio of Hormagaunts in a single, brutal arc.

The swarm pressed harder, their numbers seemingly endless. Daedren felt the strain in his arms as the Tyranids threw themselves against his shields, their claws raking at the adamantium with desperate ferocity. But he did not falter.

Behind him, Erath’s voice cut through the din. “Larger bioforms incoming! Two Warriors closing fast!”

Daedren spotted the towering figures emerging from the swarm, their scything talons raised high. They moved with predatory grace, their carapaces glistening with organic fluids.

“Focus fire on the Warriors!” Thran commanded.

The squad redirected their attacks, bolters spitting precise volleys at the advancing Tyranid Warriors. The first stumbled as a bolt round shattered its leg, but the second pressed on, its talons cleaving through the air with deadly precision.

Daedren stepped forward, raising his shields to intercept the creature’s strike. The impact sent a shockwave through his armor, but the energy was absorbed and redirected, powering his counterattack. With a swift motion, he drove the edge of his shield into the Warrior’s torso, the force splitting its carapace and spilling its ichor across the floor.

The remaining Warrior lunged at Caldon, but Thran intercepted it with a ferocious swing of his chainsword. The weapon’s teeth bit deep into the Tyranid’s neck, severing its head in a spray of gore.

The corridor fell silent once more, the air thick with the stench of death.

“Status?” Thran asked, his voice steady despite the exertion of battle.

“All accounted for,” Erath replied, his auspex already scanning for new threats.

Thran turned to Daedren. “You held well, brother. Your shields are proving invaluable.”

Daedren gave a curt nod, his breath steadying as the adrenaline began to fade. “They’ll hold as long as we need them to, Captain.”

The squad advanced toward the core chamber, their boots crunching on the bio-organic residue that coated the floor. The faint hum of the core’s dormant machinery grew louder as they approached, a reminder of their objective.

When they reached the chamber, they found themselves face-to-face with the true scale of the Tyranid infestation. The central core, a massive structure of Imperial design, was almost completely overrun. Bio-organic growths pulsed across its surface, their tendrils burrowing deep into the machinery. Surrounding it were dozens of smaller bioforms and a towering Tyranid Prime, its bone-sword gleaming in the dim light.

“Prepare yourselves,” Thran said, his chainsword revving to life. “This is the heart of the infestation. We end it here.”

The Salamanders charged as one, their battle cries echoing through the chamber.