Chapter 81: Kree Empire 2

Perspective: Lion El’Jonson

The Tesseract Gate flickered open, a surge of white-blue energy crackling across the cold expanse. Lion El'Jonson stepped forward, his black armor gleaming under the unnatural light. The air around them buzzed with the hum of powered systems and the faint screech of distant mining equipment. This world was a rough place, little more than a resource hub claimed by the Imperium. Its landscape was scarred by strip-mining, vast pits cutting into the earth and jagged mountains rising like teeth against the horizon. It was harsh and unrefined, much like the Dark Angels themselves, but it was the perfect place to begin their mission.

Behind him, the Legionnaires assembled. They were not the centuries-old warriors of legend, but their spirit was no less potent. Most of them had not yet seen a decade of battle, still young in the grand scheme of things, but they were sharp. Their discipline was their weapon as much as their bolters and chainswords.

The Lion’s eyes swept over his Sons, his Astartes. Their faces were determined, their expressions hard with the weight of the task ahead. They might not be seasoned veterans, but the Dark Angels were capable of great things. They moved as one, a single mind split into many bodies, each focused on the mission.

“Prepare for transport,” El’Jonson ordered, his voice calm but carrying. His men nodded in perfect unison. No words were wasted; every movement was calculated, every gesture purposeful.

The Tesseract Gate opened wider, and the team stepped forward into the fold of reality. For a moment, the world around them warped, distorted, and then snapped back into clarity. They were no longer standing on the familiar, industrial landscape of the mining world. Instead, they emerged on a frozen Kree moon, designated Garran-Threx. The ground beneath them was solid ice and jagged rock, the sky above a hazy gray as if the very atmosphere was a foreign substance. The planet’s surface was still, eerily quiet, except for the distant whir of energy shields and the faint glow of surveillance equipment on the horizon.

“Keep your senses sharp,” El’Jonson murmured, his eyes scanning the horizon. This was alien territory, and the Kree had left few mistakes behind them. The moon was isolated, its only real significance hidden in the Kree’s belief that it was too remote to be a concern. The Lion would prove them wrong.

He signaled for the squad to deploy. The Astartes moved without hesitation, a dozen men splitting into two groups, quickly vanishing into the craggy terrain. They moved with practiced precision, silent as shadows, navigating the jagged cliffs and frozen ravines. El’Jonson led the way, his every step calculated and quiet, his senses sharp. He could feel the oppressive silence of the world around him, a silence that had not yet been disturbed by the clash of war.


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They reached the Kree outpost just as the last remnants of twilight faded from the sky. From their vantage point on a high ridge, El’Jonson saw the fortifications below. The Kree had built a complex of cold steel and artificial barriers, floodlights sweeping across the dark landscape, automated turrets embedded into the walls, and the occasional patrolling squad moving from one station to another.

“It’s a fortress,” one of his Sons whispered over the comms. “But not an impenetrable one.”

“Agreed,” El’Jonson replied, his tone unwavering. “We strike at their weaknesses. Be fast. Be silent.”

The Dark Angels had not been given centuries to perfect their tactics, but they had learned quickly. Under El’Jonson’s command, they had developed a style of warfare that relied on speed, stealth, and overwhelming precision. It was not about brute strength, at least, not yet. It was about using their superior training, their tactical acumen, and the element of surprise to defeat an enemy before they even knew they were under attack.

The first strike came from a hidden vantage point. One of the Dark Angels, a marksman, opened fire. A single shot rang out, the silenced bolter round tearing through the throat of a Kree sentry. The sentry’s body crumpled to the ground without a sound, and the squad moved forward.

The next strike came from the shadows. A group of Dark Angels, armed with plasma pistols and chain swords, descended on a second sentry group with speed that was almost otherworldly. The Kree had no time to react as the Dark Angels swarmed over them. Plasma blasts lit the air, searing through Kree armor with brutal efficiency, while chainswords carved through alien flesh with a grim finality.

El’Jonson did not hesitate. He was among them, moving like a storm. His sword flashed, its edge catching the faintest light, and a Kree officer fell, its command shield shattered, his head severed in a single stroke. He felt the rush of the kill, but his mind stayed focused. There was no time for satisfaction. There was only the next target.


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Within minutes, they were inside the fortifications, deep within the Kree’s command center. The structure was a maze of reinforced walls and metallic corridors, the air thick with the smell of ionized atmosphere. The Dark Angels cut through the interior like a blade through soft flesh.

El’Jonson led the charge, his blade carving a path through the Kree as if they were nothing more than obstacles. His every movement was decisive, each swing of his sword leaving no room for error. The Astartes followed, a whirlwind of death—flesh torn apart by bolter rounds, limbs severed by chainswords, and Kree soldiers thrown aside with terrifying force.

The Kree were strong, but they were not ready for this. The Dark Angels overwhelmed them with brutal efficiency.

They reached the central control room, where a group of Kree officers scrambled to make sense of the sudden attack. El’Jonson’s eyes narrowed as he saw the map on the wall, a holographic projection of Kree-controlled space. The planet’s defenses were powerful, but scattered. The Lion’s mind worked quickly, piecing together the information they had obtained from the wreckage of Kree ships and their own reconnaissance.

This was only the beginning.


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As the outpost fell into silence, the Lion surveyed the devastation around him. The Kree forces had been wiped out, their command center in ruins. The Dark Angels gathered around him, waiting for their orders.

“The mission is complete,” El’Jonson said, his voice carrying through the comms. “But we have more work to do. This is just the first step in a war that will stretch across Kree territory. We will bring them to their knees.”

His gaze turned toward the stars. The Kree had underestimated them. And they would pay for that mistake.


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End of Chapter


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