Grey was the last of the Thunderborns to undergo the augmentation process.
Now, he lay on the operating table, his mind sharper than ever, yet his body still trembled from the harrowing ordeal. Each nerve-ending felt raw, recently rewired for heightened reflexes, while echoes of pain still clung to his bones like frost. His thoughts flickered with fragmented memories of the screaming, the white-hot agony, the moments when he wasn't sure if he'd wake up at all.
The enhancements had pushed him beyond human limits, but the process had nearly shattered his sanity.
Qin Mo had gone further than before.
His cybernetic arm had been reinforced, its armor plating thicker, its structure reworked to withstand direct anti-armor impacts.
But this was no mere mechanical limb.
It could now channel psychic force, amplifying raw energy through warp-resistant conduits, allowing Qin Mo to focus power through a stable medium for reality-warping abilities similar to Yoan's pendant.
Grey lay motionless, staring at the metallic ceiling, his breathing slow. The lights above buzzed faintly, a rhythmic counterpoint to the silence within his own mind.
The room smelled of ozone and cauterized flesh. His blood still marked the table beneath him, but his thoughts were clearer than they'd ever been.
"Am I still human?" Grey suddenly asked.
"Of course," Qin Mo replied. "Your soul and brain remain intact. Some of your biological systems have even been preserved. You can still reproduce, theoretically, for example."
Grey cracked a grin. "Might as well replace that part with a cannon then. That way, even out of power armor, I'd still have a weapon of mass destruction."
Qin Mo paused, momentarily caught off guard. He was genuinely surprised.
Despite everything Grey had endured, he still had the willpower to joke.
Instead of responding with banter, Qin Mo got back to business.
"The war isn't over."
He turned toward the terminal, activating a holographic display.
"Just as I developed dimensional technology, I will now enter seclusion in New Kato Fortress to fully focus on researching a weapon that will end this war. In the meantime, I'll hand over strategic command to you."
Grey sat up fully, his gaze hardening. The ache in his joints was still there, but it was distant now, irrelevant. His body obeyed him like a well-tuned engine.
"You and the others will infiltrate the Upper Hive. Your job is intel gathering. Anruida will locate suitable coordinates for large-scale teleportation. The rest of the Thunderborns will sabotage enemy munitions depots and other critical infrastructure," Qin Mo's voice was calm, measured, as if he were already thinking ten moves ahead. "After that, we teleport in our forces, seize the Upper Hive, and consolidate our position before moving on the Spire."
With Creed gone, Qin Mo was the only true strategist left.
Grey had once just been a rank-and-file PDF soldier.
Klein, though military-trained, knew how to command a regiment, but nothing more.
The remaining officers? Inexperienced. Unseasoned. Not yet ready for the scale of command needed.
That meant Grey had to execute orders precisely, without fail.
"Any additional directives?" Grey asked after the briefing.
"None," Qin Mo replied. "Adapt as needed. If the enemy discovers the orbital shipyard, I'll personally teleport aboard to defend it."
Grey nodded.
"Your mind is sharper now," Qin Mo added. "Use it. Learn. We won't stop at just an army and fleet. You'll need to become more than a soldier. You must learn to be a commander, to lead."
"Understood. When your research is complete, you'll have a Hive City that belongs to you… Governor," Grey said, taking a deep breath.
"Don't rush it. Even if the Spire takes time to fall, once the warships are built… this world will be mine," Qin Mo said as he sealed the casing on Grey's augmetic limb. He gestured for Grey to stand.
Grey rose from the table, feeling lighter, faster, stronger.
No, more than stronger. Transformed. Every motion felt precise, deliberate. The world around him seemed slower, as if waiting for his command.
He clenched his reinforced fist. "I feel… different. My senses are sharper."
"That's not all." Qin Mo turned and approached a nearby device, extracting a freshly-fabricated drone.
Grey noticed a teleport beacon embedded beneath the drone's chassis. It was, essentially, a mobile teleportation relay.
"Take it. You'll need it," Qin Mo handed it to him.
"Yes, sir." Grey accepted the drone, saluted, and exited the blood-slicked surgical vault. The door hissed shut behind him, sealing away the last fragments of who he used to be.
Outside, the other Thunderborns were already fully armored, awaiting orders.
Grey relayed Qin Mo's orders, and without hesitation, they silently dispersed to prepare for teleportation.
....
Grey did not wear his power armor for this reconnaissance mission.
Clad only in a black robe, he was teleported into the Upper Hive, the dimensional corridor dissolved as he materialized.
His vision adjusted instantly.
Grey scanned the entire area in under a second.
The Upper Hive, pristine, majestic, and almost alien in its grandeur.
A place reserved for the Imperium's elite, where even the air was filtered twice and perfumed with alchemical precision.
It was beautiful, ornate Imperial architecture in every direction. Gleaming golden statues stood like sentinels beside towering cathedrals and spire-crowned mansions.
Brightly lit. Towering buildings. Marble archways and gold-leafed balconies cast long shadows over the polished streets.
Everything here screamed opulence. This was where nobles schemed over wine older than most Hive-born lives, where power came by birthright, not earned merit.
He had heard that the elites of the Upper Hive lived in massive personal estates.
But now?
The streets were eerily silent.
The once-bustling avenues were empty.
There were no servitors sweeping the walkways, no noble entourages being paraded under gold-trimmed banners.
The scent of ash tainted the air. In the distance, fires burned, and enemy patrols moved in strict formations.
"We've made it to the Upper Hive," Anruida's voice echoed in Grey's mind.
He no longer needed Vox-casters, his bio-processor allowed direct mental communication.
"We each have our tasks. If anyone encounters resistance, call for support." Grey replied.
Anruida chuckled. "Shame Grot isn't here. He'd be perfect for sabotage and demolition ops."
"No doubt." Grey was about to continue speaking—
Then his new instincts screamed.
Danger.
Enemy patrols. Closing in.
They approached from both ends of the street.
Seconds to act.
His gaze locked onto a chapel ahead at the end of the boulevard.
Through his enhanced optics, he saw through the walls, marking everyone inside and their movements.
Inside, were officers strategizing, discussing Upper Hive defenses.
Above them, a bell tower, an ideal vantage point.
In less than a second, he had formed his plan and activated his spinal augmentations.
Time dilated. The world slowed to a crawl.
Grey burst into motion, sprinting through the gap between enemy patrols before their minds registered his existence.
To them, he was just a fleeting shadow, an unrecognizable blur of motion and silence.
By the time one of them thought he saw something, Grey had already leapt through an open window—
And into the chapel.
....
Inside, officers sat around a war table, hunched over maps and vox-feeds.
Grey's vision overlay marked them all in red.
His cybernetic arm shifted—
The outer casing separated, revealing an integrated firearm.
High-velocity micro-rounds hissed out silently, one for each marked target. Each round pierced skulls and fragmented, instantly liquefying cerebral tissue.
Brain matter splattered against the stone walls in perfect silence.
Grey turned.
More targets downstairs.
His enhanced optics calculated trajectories in real time.
He fired again.
To his accelerated perception, he could see the bullets travel, even calculate their trajectories with perfect clarity.
Within seconds, the floor was cleared.
The effect ended.
Time returned to normal.
Bodies collapsed, their deaths instantaneous, the sound of flesh hitting the floor echoed through the chapel.
One officer remained.
Frozen in horror.
The lone surviving officer stood frozen for a second, until his brain caught up—
Then he opened his mouth trying to shout toward the window.
Grey moved instantly.
Two meters separated them.
He closed the distance in an instant.
His hand clamped around the officer's throat.
With a single motion, he lifted and slammed the man into the cold stone floor, silencing him.
Outside, the enemy patrols continued their rounds.
For now, they had not noticed the massacre inside.
Grey exhaled.
The mission had only just begun.