Alex stared in silence at the Emperor's Angel, meeting eyes sharp as blades, as if they could pierce through everything.
He did not blink.
"I believe you, Commissar."
The crushing pressure dissipated.
The brief confrontation ended quickly. Arthur lifted his head and looked into the eyes of every soldier present.
In that moment, he suddenly felt this world might still hold hope.
Perhaps that hope would one day be burned away by endless war and suspicion, but right now—
Arthur sincerely wished that it could endure with the lives of these men.
"I believe in all of you."
His voice rang out.
"So the Emperor will not allow His soldiers to die at a victory feast, or on the road to the next battle."
The Imperium, so paranoid that it exterminated without distinction anyone who had even touched Chaos, Arthur could not accept or agree with such madness.
"The road of sacrifice for humanity may be short. It may be long."
"But—"
Arthur removed his helmet. His face was strikingly young. Golden hair hung down, and blue-green eyes swept across everyone.
Breaths caught in every throat. Through those deep eyes, it was as if they glimpsed a red dragon that had sheathed its fire and claws.
"No matter how long it lasts—I, Arthur Pendragon—"
He clenched his right fist and struck it against his heart.
"I will walk beside you, to witness a glorious death."
Arthur's thoughts were simple. He didn't want these warriors to simply die, their bodies and souls devoured by daemons in the Warp.
He wanted them to live, to fulfill their duty through their lives, and in the end to find the resting place that was truly theirs.
"For the Emperor. For Humanity."
"For the Emperor. For Humanity!"
"This is true loyalty."
Karna murmured. The loyalty of these Guardsmen to the Emperor was unshakable.
As for them—the Warhammer fanatics...
He chewed on a chicken wing, glancing at the two crouched by the astrolabe fiddling with who-knew-what.
Call it loyalty, but never show up when called.
"So, are you done praying or not? And mutation research—you don't just dive in blind. Stabilize them first with bionics to save their lives!"
In the shadows, Romulus smacked Ramses on the head.
"Don't you think the atmosphere is perfect for this? Besides, no conflict—gathering people together just makes it convenient to try."
Ramses straightened his slightly crooked mask.
"Seriously though, where did Arthur learn to talk like that? So damn inspiring."
"Focus."
Another slap to his helmet from Romulus.
Thanks to psychic shielding, their ridiculous antics went unnoticed.
"They're almost done."
"Relax, it'll be fine. At worst we don't summon the Emperor, but no one's going to die. At my Warp strength, anything less than a Greater Daemon dies if it shows."
Ramses held the astrolabe tuned to the Warp, strangely confident in his operation.
"Should?"
Romulus ignored the rest of that qualification.
"It's my first time, how can I be certain? Let's say eighty percent odds."
Ramses carefully adjusted, weaving in elements tied to the Emperor.
From a practical view, even though the Great Rift hadn't torn open yet and daemons weren't fully revealed to the Imperium's masses, the Emperor's influence on realspace could not be less than that of the Four.
Why else would the Ecclesiarchy's churches be everywhere?
"If Chaos rituals can summon the Four, then prayer rituals should summon the Emperor. Anything else is discrimination!"
"Let's hope."
Romulus didn't like this "surprise attack." Trusting teammates was necessary, but this kind of unprepared plunge left a bad taste.
He glanced uneasily at Arthur, surrounded by Guardsmen, half-expecting some would suddenly explode into daemons.
And Arthur actually let Ramses do this.
But Arthur himself was unconcerned.
If Ramses wanted to pray, let him pray. If it summoned the Emperor, all the better. If not, they would still help these Guardsmen.
Either way, they had to try. If the Emperor responded, good. If not, then they would do everything they could themselves.
Arthur wasn't going to pretend otherwise. The mutations were severe—many Guardsmen could barely stand. If Karna hadn't scanned the Mechanicus databanks for augmetic schematics earlier, Arthur wouldn't have had this much confidence.
At least do more, try more, whatever can be done.
He turned to order the Commissar and Colonel to work with the Sisters in sorting the wounded, preparing amputations and classifications. Then he sought out the regiment's Tech-Priest.
These followers of the Omnissiah were the Imperium's other backbone. From the armies of every branch to the starships in orbit, nearly everything came from their Forge Worlds.
"I don't advise this, my lord."
The orange-robed Tech-Priest responded to Arthur's request for augmetic implantation.
"These individuals are unqualified for such sacred gifts. Statistically, even among elites, most will die before they can repay the Omnissiah for such blessings."
"Of course, I do not mean they should be destroyed entirely. Economically, they should be converted into servitors to continue serving the Omnissiah..."
How could a human mouth utter words so cold?
Arthur breathed deeply, reminding himself this was Warhammer. Tech-Priests always saw men like this. He would need their skills for the augmentations.
He restrained the urge to punch this one's head off and send him to meet the Omnissiah personally.
The Tech-Priest wisely stopped talking.
"You should be grateful I am not you."
Arthur's gaze locked on the priest, whose lower body was now a spider-like mechanical chassis.
"I still keep reverence for human life and dignity. That is why you still stand here whole."
"Nor do I want abnormal factors to make me judge a priest as a xenos or some other thing unworthy of being called human."
The Tech-Priest was silent, the trembling of his overheated cooling vents betraying his tension.
"The augmetics—we will provide."
Behind Arthur, Romulus' voice was cold. "You will follow orders."
The Tech-Priest immediately nodded.
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