We were fortunate the greenskins were still taxiing their fighters. Indeed, I was surprised so many were already airborne. Though the platform was large enough to accommodate runways, they were poorly arranged. The ork pilots jostled their fighters into position, the inevitable collisions resulting in wrenched cockpits and howled accusations amid the explosions raining down on them. Despite the carnage I felt a flicker of hope: there was no way they would fully mobilise before we struck.

Mizar whined, alarmed. It had seen something. I flicked through the energy spectrum, even as Shard was poised to deploy the bombs.

Blinding light. It emanated from the ork effigy. Shard swore, for whatever was happening was now visible to her too. Green lightning danced between the monstrosity’s metal fangs, erupting in a storm of vile energy, and a squadron of ork fighters vomited out from its gullet.

They seemed almost as surprised as us. One flew directly into those momentum-sapping beams, spiralling into the swamp. Two others nearly collided, their pilots only averting disaster at the last moment. But the rest flew straight at us.

‘Nocter. You know your duty.’

Falcon Squad surged forward, intercepting this threat. But they paid for it, now surrounded and at the mercy of the ork guns. Through Mizar, I watched as one by one their craft were reduced to scrap by overlapping fire-lines or dragged from the sky by those strange weapons. I should have mourned the pilots, those brave soldiers who did their duty despite the obvious risk. But all I could think was how our casualties would soon feed the ork war machine. Their edifice was well chosen, those huge jaws embodying not only their savagery but also their appetite. They sought to swallow the world, repurpose every scrap to aid their conquest.

Sparks once again writhed between those metal fangs, as whatever foul contraption lurked within powered up, no doubt intent on unleashing another score of fighters.

We were heading right for it, Mizar staring down its yawning gullet. Beyond the thrashing lightning were images I could not decipher. Merely glancing at them made me nauseous, the sensation worsened by the rapid descent. Inertia pinned me to my chair, unable to scream or lambast Shard for our suicidal dive. Hephaestus was on the cusp of breaking apart, buffeted by our foe’s guns and the foul energies emanating beneath. Shard was screaming something at our bombardier, but the pressure in my ears stole her words. It was like being trapped deep underwater.

There was no way we could pull up in time. The monstrous effigy would swallow us, like it would swallow this world. I could do nothing but mumble a short prayer to the God-Emperor, for what little good it would do.

I should have had faith. In Him, and in her.