Alpharius thought for a moment and came up with a plan to escape.
"Brother, I'll be over there for a moment." He pointed to the First Legion's seats and said to his Legion comrades, "I'm going to see a fellow countryman."
"Go quickly and come back soon." The Primarch Guard's chief nodded in agreement, a colleague's information appearing in his mind, and said to the person Alpharius was impersonating, "It's a blessing to meet an Old Terra veteran at the gathering."
The Guard's chief shook his head and sighed, "Most of my batch of test subjects died on the battlefield."
"I'll be back in ten minutes," Alpharius promised, then left his seat and headed to the First Legion's seats.
There was no "fellow countryman" at all. The First Legion had his gene-sons, and the Primarch needed an excuse, as well as a witness.
Alpharius' steps were hurried, showing a hint of eagerness, reflecting the enthusiasm of meeting an old acquaintance.
He came to his gene-son, patted the Legion warrior's shoulder plate, but the other party's eyes were confused, as he did not recognize the Second Legion cousin in front of him.
"Who are you?" The Legion warrior, out of respect, stood up from his chair and asked the identity of the person in front of him.
He searched all his memories, certain he had never seen this person, and wondered if the other party had mistaken him for someone else.
Alpharius showed a friendly smile and motioned for the other party to lean closer.
The warriors who witnessed this scene did not find it strange; after becoming an Astartes, some warriors would abandon their original names and take on new ones, thanking the Emperor for the rebirth he bestowed.
And the original name would be discarded, or used as a secret code between friends.
Alpharius leaned his mouth to his son's ear and said in a voice only the two of them could hear, "Alpharius."
The First Legion warrior's face changed drastically upon hearing this, and the memories in his mind were activated by the code word. He immediately realized his true identity.
He was a Twentieth Legion warrior, ordered to be brainwashed and infiltrate the First Legion, and the person in front of him was his Gene-Father.
The infiltrator showed the most excited expression, embracing Alpharius, "It's you, my good brother!"
His expression was genuine, showing sincere emotion at meeting a fellow countryman and friend.
The surrounding First Legion warriors collectively showed an "I knew it" expression.
After the Astartes modification surgery, many people's faces would change, more or less taking on the temperament and characteristics of their Gene-Father.
It was normal for friends to not immediately recognize each other when they first met; only a pre-arranged code word could confirm their identities.
The infiltrator skillfully used his excitement to mask the tremor of surging memories, and whispered the Legion battle-cry into his Gene-Father's ear, "We are all Alpharius."
The Twentieth Legion, Alpharius named it the Alpha Legion.
Alpha, not only had the meaning of the Primarch's name, but in Old Terra culture, it symbolized "beginning" and "first."
In some ways, it also hinted that Alpharius himself was the first to return, the true "First Son Returned."
"We are all Alpharius." The Alpha Legion warrior whispered the Legion battle-cry to his Gene-Father.
His emotions were half-fake, half-real, blending the excitement of seeing his Gene-Father into his performance, making it impossible to distinguish truth from falsehood.
The First Legion only thought he had recognized a fellow countryman and was momentarily unable to control himself.
"Cover me as I leave." Alpharius was very satisfied with his son's acting; at the Astartes level, he could find no fault.
"Let's go over there and catch up." The infiltrator pointed to one side, took his Gene-Father's arm, and said to the First Legion warriors, "I'll be gone for a bit."
"Go on, catch up." The First Legion warriors were very enthusiastic, waving them off.
Alpharius followed his son, and the two left the sight of the crowd, arriving at a secluded corner.
To outsiders, the two indeed appeared like good friends, entering the garden for a private conversation.
Upon reaching the hidden spot, the garden floor suddenly opened, and a concealed elevator rose.
Alpharius knew that his brother was inviting him.
He stepped inside, turned to face his gene-son, and before the elevator doors closed, said, "I need nine minutes of testimony. You can continue your work."
The infiltrator slowly nodded, watching his Gene-Father descend into the deck on the elevator, disappearing from sight.
He was inwardly puzzled; he had already been exposed to the ship's intelligence, so why did the Primarch still want him to remain undercover?
But the Alpha Legion warrior did not hesitate and began to hypnotize his memories to continue his infiltration.
He closed his eyes, muttering specific hypnotic words, and began to shape his memories.
When the hypnosis ended, he was a First Legion warrior who had met a Second Legion friend here and recalled some past events.
The Alpha Legion's infiltration was not about hiding their identity; before their memories were activated, they were inherently members of other Legions.
Alpharius had planted an unknown number of such sleeper agents.
Only the Primarch himself knew how many agents of the entire Alpha Legion were infiltrating other Legions.
Alpharius' face was serious, his mood sinking with the elevator, constantly wondering how he had been discovered.
The moment the elevator stopped and the door opened, his eyes lit up, and a brand new idea emerged in his mind.
Weren't the Sentinels in front of him the perfect candidates for his gene-sons to infiltrate Argent Nur?
Doom Slayers were too tall, their stature far exceeding that of an Astartes, making them too difficult for an Alpha Legion warrior to imitate.
The Sentinels, however, were different; their build was similar, and their physical functions exceeded an Astartes, but not by too much.
"Put away your bad ideas, King Novick's brother." The veteran Sentinels reminded him, seeing through the intentions of the person in front of him at a glance, and explained:
"Within our nation, the cultural heritage is too profound, and there has been no discontinuity."
"If you want to impersonate or replace our identity, you first need to study at the War College for decades to understand the details of our culture."
"Otherwise," the Sentinels' expression was unclear through his helmet, but his tone held a hint of amusement, "a single sentence in daily conversation might expose the infiltrator's identity."
The veteran spoke, making a "please" gesture, and began to lead the way for the person in front of him.
He was not lying; the Sentinels came from Argent Nur and were deeply influenced by warrior culture.
Although Argent Nur's warrior culture was mainstream, after thousands of years of development, it had branched out extensively.
And the culture passed down in the War College was tested and approved, a cultural heritage that had to be learned.
Besides that, there were also the family cultures of various clans, closely related to the mainstream culture.
A detail in an emblem, a change in a move, an allusion in a proverb, the meaning of warrior etiquette.
Such knowledge was enough for the descendants of the Golden Men to study for decades, with many failing, so the difficulty was imaginable.
There was also one point the veteran didn't mention—Argent Nur's genetic screening.
During Argent Nur's era, when genes were continuously degrading, frequent genetic screenings existed to prevent genetic mutations.
After entering the "Age of Stars," the genetic degradation of Argent Nur's people stabilized, but the screenings became even more serious.
As a world directly under the Sentinels, Argent Nur strictly prohibited intermarriage with outsiders and forbade the entry of external populations.
The Sentinels had to undergo regular genetic screenings, report data to Argent Nur, perform genetic matching, and leave behind qualified offspring.
As an infiltrator, how could one escape dense genetic screenings?
There was also the simplest method of identification: when the Sentinels and Astartes removed their clothing, the difference immediately became apparent.
The Astartes had "black carapaces" as external interfaces all over their bodies, used for neural connections to power armor.
The Sentinels only had spinal neural interfaces, three in a column connecting to their power armor, with no other signs of modification on their bodies.
The two had commonalities in sensor technology, but the extent of its application was vastly different.
Alpharius caught up with the Sentinels, slowly shaking his head, and asked the warrior beside him, "Are all of you so perceptive?"
Could he have been seen through so easily by the warrior? Was his expression that obvious?
The veteran shrugged, and his muffled voice from within the helmet slowly explained, "The surprise in your eyes was too obvious, coupled with your identity as an infiltrator, it's easy for one to make the connection."
Alpharius nodded, realizing that the emotions he displayed, and his intentions, were too clear.
"You call him 'King Novick'?" He asked as he walked, very interested in the Sentinels' appellation.
An appellation usually reflects a certain recognition, the most intuitive internal assessment people have of each other.
"Yes," the Sentinels nodded, slightly puffing out his chest, "Blazkowicz Novick, the current King Novick."
"Why not 'Primarch'?" Alpharius couldn't help but ask, "Calling him that would be more noble; he is, after all, the Emperor's son."
"Primarch? Noble?" The warrior scoffed, shaking his head, his tone unchanged as he asked the person beside him, "Novick represents an unyielding spirit.
Do you think inherited noble blood is more noble, or an eternally unyielding spirit?"
Faced with the warrior's question, Alpharius opened his mouth but ultimately said nothing.
The Sentinels led him to a corridor, pointing to a secret room guarded by two warriors, and said, "He is waiting for you there."
The Sentinels turned and left, never expecting to receive an answer.
For some, lineage is a symbol of nobility, and they shallowly pride themselves on it.
Such an understanding is superficial, failing to see where "lineage" is built upon.
Lineage itself is not noble; it is built upon achievements and honor, which then makes the lineage appear noble.
A Beggar who achieves immortal feats and becomes an Emperor does not change his lineage, but it becomes noble due to the added achievements.
So, was it his lineage that initially changed the Beggar?
No, the "filthy" blood of a Beggar still flowed in him; what drove him to change was an unyielding spirit unwilling to accept the status quo.
Soul is greater than bloodline. Old King Nowick shaped Blazkowicz's soul; he was his "Soul Father," an acknowledgment that far surpassed a "Blood Father."
The bond between Blazkowicz and the Emperor was also not based on bloodline, but on the Great Crusade to unite humanity!
Because of the Emperor's grand vision to save humanity, Blazkowicz, as a member of humanity, led the Nur Stars to fight for humanity.
In the eyes of the Sentinels, Blazkowicz's participation in the Crusade was by no means a fight for the Imperium; he fought for the unification of all mankind.
Watching the Sentinels' retreating back, Alpharius remained silent for a long time, feeling he had underestimated the Sentinels.
The Warriors from Argent Nur possessed free souls and profound insights into all things.
The Astartes follow their Primarchs; they find it difficult to resist their Gene-Fathers and are inherently obedient to their Primarchs.
This obedience stems from bloodline, and even more so, from souls reshaped by Gene-Seed.
Inherent obedience is a sharp sword, following the will of the Primarch to destroy any enemies in the way.
But a sword is double-edged; while it can harm others, it can also harm oneself.
If a Primarch is wise and mighty, inherent obedience is naturally a powerful weapon, but if the Primarch has problems, the entire Legion will face great trouble.
Looking at the receding figure, Alpharius suddenly smiled, pleased with his probing.
As a Primarch who had never left Terra, he had discovered this problem long ago.
The Alpha Legion obeys him, the Luna Wolves obey Horus, and the Space Wolves obey Russ.
The Astartes obey their Gene-Fathers, willing to go through fire and water for their "Father's" commands.
This stems entirely from inner respect, a gift from the Gene-Seed.
But what if, one day in the future, when brothers turn against each other, how will the Astartes choose?
This is by no means alarmist; human history repeats itself again and again, always treading the same path.
It was out of such concern that Alpharius built his Legion into a "shadow" Legion, infiltrating his brother Legions to understand their movements in real-time and take the most direct preventive measures.
He encouraged the Alpha Legion to think independently, to think from their own perspective, without blindly following their Primarch.
Although Primarchs possess extraordinary divine power, they have human minds, and humans are prone to making mistakes.
Ordinary people can still rectify their mistakes, and the consequences are minor.
When a Primarch makes a mistake, it will be an egregious error; how can the losses caused by such a mistake be compensated?
After a period of probing, Alpharius felt greatly relieved and abandoned his plan to infiltrate Argent Nur.
In the Destroyer Legion, the Eldest Son Blazkowicz is a man of clear judgment; he had known his character for ten years of their association.
The Sentinels were even more outstanding; if Blazkowicz were to make a crazy move, they would be the first to disagree.
As for Blazkowicz…
Alpharius strode towards the secret chamber; now was a great opportunity to understand him.
He walked to the door and saw an old acquaintance—Obelisk, though Obelisk did not recognize him now.
Obelisk scrutinized the person in front of him, and after confirming there was no threat, he and a Sentinels opened the door panel and let him in.
"Do you know him?" the Sentinels asked his colleague at the door once it closed.
"The Primarch of the Twentieth Legion," the wall-like Obelisk replied, his deep voice offering an assessment: "A person who enjoys games of infiltration."
"He's not very tall." The Sentinels was a bit surprised; in his impression, Primarchs were all very tall.
"He can change his appearance," Obelisk replied curtly, stating his conjecture.
In the Destroyer Legion, this Primarch was as tall as his brothers, but now his height was like that of an ordinary Space Marine.
Aside from certain special talents, there was no other explanation.
"Imposters are really troublesome," the Sentinels murmured, shaking his head as he stood by the door, continuing his duties.
Alpharius entered the door, which closed behind him. The room was bright and simple, and his brother sat in a chair, waiting for him.
"Please sit, my brother." Blazkowicz rose, warmly inviting his Primarch brother to sit down.
"Blazkowicz Novick." Calling his brother's name softly, Alpharius sat opposite him, looking up at his tall brother.
"How did you recognize me?" After sitting down, he slowly asked the question that had puzzled him for so long.
His disguise was flawless; Horus, Ferrus, Fulgrim, and Soras had not noticed, so why could Blazkowicz recognize him just the same?
"I didn't do it on purpose." Blazkowicz also slowly sat down, pouring wine for his brother: "It was an intuition."
Blazkowicz was not lying; it was indeed intuition that allowed him to repeatedly spot his brother hiding in the crowd.
"Your intuition frustrates me." Alpharius shrugged helplessly; he believed Blazkowicz's words.
Ordinary mortals have intuition to avoid fatal dangers, and Space Marines have keen intuition to detect hidden threats.
And a Primarch, the greatest living being shaped by the Emperor, with such keen and real intuition, could indeed have discovered him.
"Alpharius." As he sighed, he offered his name, his face flickering with blue psychic energy, which receded like a curtain.
Blazkowicz watched in surprise; Alpharius' face, in the psychic glow, gradually transformed into the appearance of another person.
"Wait a moment." He quickly stood up and retreated, moving away from his transforming brother.
"Wh-… what." Alpharius did not understand his brother's actions, and as he spoke, the corners of his mouth began to twitch, his entire face somewhat distorted.
He immediately stood up, covered his face, and retreated.
In the simple room, the two Primarchs each retreated to a corner of the room, keeping their distance from each other.
Alpharius covered his face; he knew why his brother had gotten up and left.
Near him, psychic powers could be used normally, but their effectiveness would be greatly reduced.
When he had just used his transformation talent, he felt no problem, but the actual effect was off, causing his facial features to be misplaced.
He rubbed his face, and the smooth wall reflected his cheek, successfully restoring his original appearance.
"You really are a bit strange." Alpharius turned, his expression complex as he looked at his brother, letting out a helpless sigh: "Since I mastered this talent, I have never made a mistake."
He spoke, returned to his chair, and raised his glass, taking a despondent sip.
Blazkowicz showed an awkward smile, sat down in front of Alpharius, and observed his brother.
He was not as heroic as himself, not as wild as Russ, not as serious as Soras; he looked ordinary, but had a unique charm, and the more one looked, the more extraordinary he seemed.
"I was this tall," Alpharius said, placing his hand on his chest: "up to this position on you."
Blazkowicz's low voice expressed admiration: "What a perfect disguise, not only able to distort appearance, but even change physique."
"I am very satisfied with the talent Father bestowed," Alpharius said with a proud smile: "You are the only brother who saw through me."
Aside from Blazkowicz, no other Primarch brother had discovered him, which was indeed something to be proud of.
If Alpharius had murderous intent, he would be the most dangerous assassin.
Blazkowicz raised his glass, clinked it with his brother's, and drank, asking curiously: "When did you return to the Imperium?"
He knew of his brother's existence from the Doom Slayer, but did not know exactly when he had returned to the Imperium.
"Return?" Alpharius' lips curled into a smile. He slowly shook his head, looking at his exceptionally heroic brother, with a hint of boastfulness: "I never left Terra!"
"That Warp storm scattered you across the galaxy, while I fell on the Terra wasteland."
"When I opened my eyes, Emperor Father picked me up from the sand, and my memories began from that moment."
As Alpharius spoke, he continuously observed Blazkowicz's expression, enjoying the surprise that came from his blood brother.
He felt a surge of satisfaction within, the pleasure of revealing a secret washing over him.
Blazkowicz was indeed very surprised.
He was even more surprised than when he had learned from a Gene-Son that Horus was by no means the first Primarch to return.
Calculated by time, his brother was not lying, nor was there any need to lie.
The news that Alpharius had never left Terra was indeed an explosive secret.
The Emperor had hidden his existence from most people, publicly acknowledging Horus as the "First Son Returned" to attract public attention.
"You must keep this news a secret," Alpharius said, immediately asking Blazkowicz to guard the secret: "It must never reach a third person's ears."
Blazkowicz's expression was solemn as he gravely promised his brother not to reveal the Imperial secret to anyone.
This matter was far-reaching, concerning both the Emperor's plans and a potential impact on Horus.
Horus Lupercal, this brother, was arrogant in Blazkowicz's heart; he cared deeply about his status as the 'First-Found Son'.
If he were to learn that a brother had been silently hidden on Terra, standing by the Emperor's side before his return, the chain reaction would be severe.
Many thoughts flashed through Blazkowicz's mind: "To whom does the honor of 'First-Found Son' belong?"
Horus and Alpharius, one overt and one covert, were the two Primarchs who first appeared on Terra, both strong contenders.
Yes, Blazkowicz believed there was a dispute, not a settled conclusion.
Alpharius had never left Terra, seemingly unconnected to the 'Found' in 'First-Found Son'.
However, he had indeed been lost outside, albeit for a very short distance, and the Emperor had personally retrieved his son.
Horus, returning from the stars, was the 'First-Found Son' acknowledged by the Emperor, possessing strong symbolic significance.
From Alpharius' tone, he did not acknowledge Horus' identity, believing himself to be the true First-Found Son.
He gazed at Horus as if scrutinizing a clown—someone who, by virtue of his father's favoritism, stole glory that rightfully belonged to another.
Blazkowicz silently kept the secret his brother shared in his heart. He didn't care who the First-Found Son was.
Because this honor, for both brothers, was not something they had seized with their own hands.
Whoever the Emperor deemed to be the 'First-Found Son' was the 'First-Found Son'; there was no point in arguing.
He had a myriad of reasons for doing so, and who dared to deny the Emperor?
Alpharius leaned back in his chair, observing Blazkowicz's expression, deducing his inner thoughts from subtle muscle tremors.
Although he appeared shocked, he showed no intention of taking a stance.
He nodded to himself, feeling relieved.
Alpharius did not seek honor; he threw out this secret merely to see his brother's reaction.
The question itself was meaningless, entirely dependent on the Emperor's attitude.
With just a word from that man, countless people would jump out to explain the reasonable justifications for his actions, turning the Emperor's words into truth.
For the citizens of the Imperium, the Emperor's words were truth.
If it wasn't considered truth, the Emperor would make it truth. Alpharius had witnessed countless times how various 'heretics' were shattered by 'truth'.
Original truth could be molded, twisted by external forces, infused with various colors, becoming another kind of 'truth'.
He was deeply influenced by this.
The Emperor, his father, was a shepherd, guiding the lambs named 'Humanity' with the whip of truth.
The Alpha Legion, founded by Alpharius, derived its combat philosophy from this: shaping lies into truth through various means and manipulations.
By twisting public opinion and manipulating rhetoric, they changed the truth in the eyes of ordinary people, overthrowing the regimes of one world after another.
"Brother Alpharius, why were you lurking with Soras?"
After a brief exchange, Blazkowicz learned of Alpharius' origins and began to inquire about his current purpose.
As for the veracity of his brother's words, Blazkowicz chose to believe him.
He knew very well that if Alpharius was deceiving him, he currently had no means to verify it.
Rather than being suspicious, it was better to temporarily believe him and continue the conversation along his line of thought.
Alpharius nodded, his smile fading from his face as he sat up straight, looking at his brother with a serious expression.
"I initially found Soras very interesting, so I infiltrated the Second Legion," he said, his voice growing deeper, "but now, I perceive him to be very dangerous."
A cold glint flashed in Alpharius' eyes; Soras' various behaviors were mysterious and dangerous.
"Dangerous?" Blazkowicz also sat up straight, his eyes narrowed as he looked at his brother, hoping for an explanation.
For someone skilled in hiding and investigation to perceive another person as very dangerous, such an assessment was not good.
"Yes." Alpharius nodded gravely, his deep voice recounting his discoveries: "Soras is not keen on combat."
"Since his return, the Second Legion's combat frequency has gradually decreased, ultimately leaving only perfunctory routine conquests."
"Soras has focused on wandering within the Imperial territory, frequently interacting with or cooperating with various Legions."
"Horus Lupercal, Fulgrim, Ferrus Manus." Alpharius recited names, then looked up and gestured: "Now it's you, and Russ."
He posed a question to Blazkowicz: "What do you think is the difference between him and me?"
"No difference." Blazkowicz's face was ashen, and he stiffly stated his thoughts: "He is investigating intelligence on the Primarch Legions."
Considering the actions of both, Alpharius and Moribus Solas had arrived at the same destination by different paths.
The difference was that the former operated covertly, with all his actions focused on investigation, while the latter's behavior seemed inexplicable.
Alpharius grew up by the Emperor's side, and currently, all his actions appear to have the legitimacy of the Emperor's acquiescence.
Moribus Solas, this brother, his origins are shrouded in mist, and his various behaviors reveal an unsettling strangeness.
"That's right, he's no different from me," Alpharius said with disgust, "and even more audacious, as if afraid others won't know."
Finally, he added, "Except Horus doesn't know, and he even gave Soras a very high evaluation."
"It's not Horus' fault." Blazkowicz slowly shook his head, defending him from a neutral perspective: "The Luna Wolves were the first Legion to interact with Soras, of course he would treat him kindly, he just didn't think of this point."
It really wasn't Horus' fault; if Soras had first contacted Argent Nur, he wouldn't have his current vigilance either.
"Why is he so contradictory?" Blazkowicz's brows furrowed, and he asked Alpharius, hoping for some answers: "Intelligence gathering can be done secretly, yet he doesn't bother to hide it?"
"That's what I can't figure out either." Alpharius shook his head; he also couldn't fathom his brother's intentions.
Intelligence gathering could be done secretly, yet Soras was doing it openly, as if afraid others wouldn't know.
What was he hiding? What was he hinting at?
When a contradiction in choices appears in one person, and that person is a Primarch, the matter itself is no longer important.
Soras' attitude was thought-provoking—what exactly did he want to do?
As Alpharius pondered, he also shared his discovery: "It's not just us; even the warriors of the Second Legion don't understand what Soras wants to do."
"The Legion is now in a state of unease; the Astartes are not fools, they are secretly discussing what the Gene-Father's intentions truly are."
"Soras also has a very poor grip on the Legion, deliberately avoiding this issue, not wanting to command the Second Legion."
"I don't know if he's afraid his sons will be implicated, or if he's ashamed of his actions, making his gene-sons despise him."
"Such a thing?" As his brother revealed more, Blazkowicz's eyes deepened with confusion.
A Primarch neglecting the management of his gene-son Legion, or even intentionally allowing it, was extremely unusual.
He suddenly realized that what Russ said was superficial, and the deeper details Alpharius uncovered by infiltrating the Second Legion were even more alarming.
Blazkowicz felt both secretly relieved and somewhat saddened.
Two emotions surged in his heart, both because the preventive measures he took were effective.
He was relieved that he had taken precautions in advance, leading to less intelligence leakage from the three Legions, while his brother's ill intentions made him somewhat sad.
"Many similar things are happening; in short, the Second Legion is currently full of strangeness."
Alpharius sternly reminded Blazkowicz: "Brother, I walk in the shadows and glimpse a corner of darkness; I have not yet investigated what Soras wants to do..."
He spoke with sincere earnestness: "But as a master of covert operations, I must warn you, you must be wary of Soras."
His tone when speaking of Horus had been somewhat teasing, but now his voice was steady, without a hint of jest.
"I will be careful." Blazkowicz nodded gravely, his voice equally heavy; he realized the seriousness of the matter.
The atmosphere in the room was heavy and suffocating; two Primarchs were discussing and doubting their blood brother.
After a brief silence, Alpharius slowly said, "Your arrangements, however, I find very good."
"You preserved the Legion's secrets; it recouped some intelligence losses."
Receiving his brother's affirmation, Blazkowicz instead showed a bitter, regretful smile: "I'd rather I was overthinking things."
"No," Alpharius said with a serious expression, "preparedness averts peril. It's remarkable that you can make correct judgments from the slightest clues you've heard."
"Doubting a blood brother requires courage, and bearing responsibility to make a decision shows even greater daring."
Blazkowicz waved his hand, no longer dwelling on this. He asked Alpharius: "Have you asked the Emperor? Where did Soras come from?"
To discern a brother's true intentions, an investigation into his background is essential.
As the person involved, the Emperor personally brought Soras back, and his words hold the most authority.
Moribus Solas' actions are severely undermining brotherly trust and must be stopped.
"I have precisely such a plan," Alpharius nodded, elaborating on his scheme: "After investigating Soras for a while longer, I will summarize the information, then escape and return to Terra to question Father, the Emperor."
"I need ample evidence to accuse a blood brother before Father; mere suspicion is not convincing and will be counterproductive."
"That is as it should be," Blazkowicz nodded in agreement, believing Alpharius' logic was clear and his thinking comprehensive.
Evidence is the power that supports words; without concrete evidence, it is difficult to accuse a Primarch.
"It's almost time," Alpharius stood up, preparing to depart. After a brief exchange of information, it was time to part ways.
Blazkowicz rose with him, seeing his hidden brother off.
Their meeting was hasty, and their conversation mostly concerned others, making it seem rather formal.
"I hope we have a chance for a long talk next time," Blazkowicz said with regret, reluctant to end the brief meeting.
He enjoyed hearing little secrets, and Alpharius possessed many hidden ones.
"When the time is right, I will stand in the sunlight," Alpharius laughed heartily, "and let every brother know me."
"By then, the Great Crusade will be nearing its end, and we will have many opportunities to communicate together."
"I look forward to that day," Blazkowicz and his brother exchanged smiles, forging a friendship.
Their hands clasped together; though there was a difference in height, the respect between them was absolute.
"This is for you," Alpharius released his brother's hand, a glint in his eye, and took an object from inside his armor.
Blazkowicz's gaze dropped to the item in his hand: a circular insignia.
The insignia, forged of steel, was plain and unadorned in his grasp.
Around the periphery was a relief of the sun symbol, and at its core, three raised dragon heads were carved.
"The Hydra Insignia," Alpharius explained to Blazkowicz: "The emblem of the Hidden Legion. It grants the authority to command Alpha Legion operatives."
"Your Legion is small in number and too weak in intelligence gathering; my gene-sons might be able to help you."
"They are skilled in behind-enemy-lines operations, adept at dismantling enemies from within, gathering intelligence, and conducting information warfare."
Blazkowicz's eyes lit up. Without polite refusal, he reached out and accepted his brother's gift, so quickly that Alpharius had no chance to regret it.
Alpharius' gift was extremely valuable; it resolved a major concern for him.
Doom Slayers and Sentinels, they were the most professional warriors; while they dabbled in clandestine operations, they were not the most professional agents.
The Ghosts of the Sentinels were more proficient in assassination and covert warfare; infiltration behind enemy lines and information warfare were their weaknesses.
Blazkowicz caressed the insignia in his hand, posing a question to his brother: "The Alpha Legion?"
"The name of the Twentieth Legion," Alpharius said with a relaxed expression: "If it weren't for the Doom Slayer, I would be at the very bottom."
"We are gene-brothers, of equal standing; there is no such thing as higher or lower," Blazkowicz shook his head helplessly, a little unable to keep up with his erratic thinking.
Perhaps having been hidden for too long, without interacting with a peer Primarch for an extended period, his brother's mind seemed overly active.
Alpharius did not respond, instead asking Blazkowicz: "I assume you can find them?"
"Yes, I can," Blazkowicz did not hide it, openly admitting his ability to find hidden Alpha warriors.
He did not care if Alpharius was testing him; in the face of his brother's generous gift, he would not respond with concealment.
Blazkowicz's straightforwardness surprised Alpharius; he felt he had consistently underestimated his brother's magnanimity.
However, after realizing it, his mouth twitched involuntarily; the Alpha Legion's meticulous infiltration had been seen through by his brother at a glance.
He said to his brother with a serious expression: "The Emperor has given me a shadow mission; stealth is the duty of me and my gene-sons."
"I assure you, unless absolutely necessary, I will not interfere with them," Blazkowicz, aware of the gravity of the matter, reaffirmed his promise.
The existence of a shadow Legion was essential; they infiltrated various Legions, monitoring for ill intent.
For instance, without Alpharius' infiltration, the Empire would rarely know about information concerning a Legion Primarch like Soras.
"They are hypnotized, and once integrated, they are truly members of the Legion," Alpharius said quickly, imparting knowledge of the Alpha Legion to Blazkowicz: "You need a passphrase to activate them."
"I am Alpharius."
"I am Alpharius," Blazkowicz repeated softly, memorizing the passphrase.
Seeing this, Alpharius couldn't help but chuckle inwardly; the actual passphrase was "Alpharius," he just wanted to tease his brother.
Witnessing his blood brother say, "I am Alpharius," filled him with secret delight.
The passphrase was also valid; containing "Alpharius" would activate the lurking agents.
To his surprise, his brother's next words left Alpharius stunned for a long time.
Blazkowicz looked at him with a serious expression, his voice low and playful, and recited the passphrase again: "We are all Alpharius."
"Hahaha," the two looked at each other, and after a moment of stunned silence, burst out laughing.
"You have grasped the essence of the Alpha Legion," Alpharius was very happy; he had never been so joyful.
"It's time to leave," he said with a hint of sadness, shaking hands with his brother again for a final farewell.
After this parting, the universe was vast; who knew when they would meet again?
Alpharius cherished his friendship with Blazkowicz; in the vast sea of people, only his brother had recognized him at a glance.
The brothers' mutual recognition lessened his inner loneliness.
He waved and walked towards the door, signaling Blazkowicz not to see him off further, but stopped at the threshold.
Alpharius' expression was complex; he turned to look at Blazkowicz, opening his mouth as if to speak but hesitating.
"Brother, you can speak freely," Blazkowicz raised his hand to signal him, reassuring his brother with a steady tone.
"Stay away from the Eleventh Legion," Alpharius hesitated, but still told Blazkowicz: "My brother, this is my sincerest advice, all for your own good."
Blazkowicz was about to inquire, but Alpharius interrupted him with a raised hand: "On the plaza where the Emperor announced the Great Crusade, those were Eleventh Legion personnel impersonated by the Alpha Legion."
Upon hearing this, Blazkowicz's pupils contracted, realizing the gravity of the matter.
What reason could there be? Why were the warriors of the Eleventh Legion absent from such a sacred and solemn occasion?
Alpharius sighed deeply: "I don't know much, and deeper things are inconvenient to reveal."
"You must remember, if you encounter the fleet of the Eleventh Legion during the Great Crusade, try to have as little contact with them as possible."
"I understand," Blazkowicz's expression was serious, yet his eyes showed firm trust.
Alpharius nodded, put on the helmet hanging from his waist, and left the room.
He quickly returned along his original route, the elevator reappearing in the garden, and he reached out to awaken his self-hypnotized gene-son.
"Brother!" The infiltrator looked up, greeting his Gene-Father excitedly, his tone filled with reluctance: "It's time to part again."
Alpharius did not blame his gene-son; he had completed his self-hypnosis, and in his eyes, he was a fellow countryman and brother.
"Yes, parting always accompanies us," Alpharius' emotions were genuine; he felt the bitterness of separation.
The two left the flowerbed, walking towards their respective Legions.
Blazkowicz sat in the room; he needed to wait a while, to stagger his departure with Alpharius'.
Their simultaneous departure and appearance could easily attract attention.
He sat in the chair, legs crossed, arms folded across his chest, his eyes unfocused, his mind wandering.
Information about the Eleventh Legion constantly surfaced in his mind, and Blazkowicz only then realized how little data there was about this brother Legion.
The Eleventh Legion, they numbered only twenty thousand, acted very secretly, and kept away from allied forces of the Great Crusade.
Their combat methods were highly standardized; they were a disciplined force, their code of conduct exemplary.
In Imperial records, there were only these brief reports, and no other entries.
Blazkowicz had initially thought it was because the Legion was far from the main force, so records were relatively scarce; now it seemed there was another hidden reason.
As the saying goes, the bigger the matter, the fewer the words.
Having finished reviewing the data in his mind, Blazkowicz stopped his analysis.
He kept his Alpha brother's warning in mind, not letting curiosity lead him to pry into the Eleventh Legion.
He slowly stood up, leaving the private room where they had talked, and headed for the garden banquet.
The intelligence he had gained from his brother was scarce; Blazkowicz needed to talk to Moribus Solas, after all, he had traveled across the stars to get here.
Blazkowicz returned to the banquet, and Russ' face was flushed. He was relaxed and enjoying himself, his eyes half-closed and slightly drunk.
Soras remained stern, drinking in small sips, appearing completely normal.
The people at the round table gradually left their seats to mingle with colleagues from their respective Legions or departments, making space for the three Primarchs.
Blazkowicz smiled, shook his cloak, and sat back down.
"Are things handled?" Russ asked, half-awake and half-drunk, his words slightly slurred and his mind hazy.
"Some emergencies with the Space Wolves Fleet," Blazkowicz replied politely, briefly explaining his earlier departure.
When he had left earlier, Blazkowicz hadn't explained much, only saying he had urgent matters to attend to.
Now that he was back, Russ' question helped him provide a reason.
Soras' silver-grey eyes flickered, but he didn't resent his brother's sudden departure: "That's how it is for a fleet commander. If junior officers can't handle something, they report it up."
"And they are always urgent matters, the kind that must be dealt with."
Blazkowicz's heroic face broke into a smile of relief. He raised the wine glass in front of him and said, "Long live understanding."
"What's this talk of understanding? Three penalty drinks for you isn't too much, is it?" Russ immediately perked up, shaking his wolf's mane and reaching for the wine bottle to fill Blazkowicz's glass.
"It should be so." Blazkowicz drank heartily, offering his glass for more wine without the slightest hesitation.
"Bottoms up!"
With a shout, he gestured to the two, and the fine wine flowed down his throat one after another. He then inverted his glass to show not a drop remained.
After this commotion, the cooled atmosphere warmed up again. The three opened up, starting to share anecdotes from their experiences.
The universe was vast, with countless wonders. As the three exchanged stories, they heard many new things.
Soras recounted how he once sailed through the real universe and encountered a strange alien race. Their enormous ships followed a fixed course.
The alien race was in collective hibernation, leaving their ships to operate autonomously. The navigation records showed they had been traveling for three thousand years.
The warriors of the Second Legion boarded the warships and introduced poison into the giant ship's hibernation cycle system, silently killing all the aliens.
When he led his Legion to the alien homeworld, following the giant ship's navigation records, he discovered that the alien civilization had suffered a civil war and had already self-destructed.
The three sighed endlessly. The Second Legion had, by chance, annihilated an alien race, extinguishing the spark of their civilization.
Russ was not to be outdone and recounted his own strange encounter.
The Space Wolves Fleet discovered a massive entity in the Warp, composed of abandoned Space Warships.
There were alien ships and Human Warships. All sorts of strange Warships were crammed together, creating immense gravity, constantly attracting more debris to gather around it.
Russ personally led a boarding party and encountered many twisted monsters within the derelict ship collective. He even found that the skeletons of several ships bore manufacturing dates indicating they were from ten thousand years in the future.
The Space Wolves meticulously searched the ten-thousand-year-old warships but found no advanced technology. Instead, they discovered an unfamiliar 'Q' emblem. Blazkowicz also briefly described "Horanian," the peculiarities of the black hole race, and the unique culture of the aliens to his brothers.
As the three spoke of exciting things, they occasionally burst into hearty laughter and at times showed emotion.
As the atmosphere reached its climax, Soras changed the subject and asked, "What about the threat of the Rangdan?"
Blazkowicz's eyes held a hidden glint. He knew the conversation had reached its main topic, and his brother's purpose in coming here was the Rangdan.
"It is a threat the Imperium of Man cannot ignore," he said, his expression serious and his tone incredibly grave. "The power the Rangdan have displayed is extremely formidable. They must be annihilated out of respect."
His words were resolute, without the slightest hesitation. The King of Warriors spoke of the resolve to destroy the aliens.
There was no need to hide this. When the Imperium of Man rose again, there was only endless hostility between it and the aliens.
Humans of the Golden Age had signed peace treaties with many aliens, only to be taken advantage of when they were in trouble, and countless Human Worlds suffered under alien devastation.
When humanity returned, there was no longer any mercy or tolerance for aliens and anything not human-like.
Extermination was the greatest mercy for aliens. And the Rangdan, this powerful alien race, with the scale and war technology they displayed, had become a grave concern for the Imperium of Man.
After this battle, the Imperium of Man had to re-evaluate the Rangdan. They had to prepare for battle, to guard against the Rangdan's return before their homeworld was discovered.
The next conflict would likely be a direct, full-scale war between the two races.
"I imagine the Rangdan feel the same way about us," Blazkowicz said, raising his wine glass for a small sip. "They desire to enslave humanity."
"The aliens retreated this time, preparing for their next return," Russ' eyes gleamed with cold light, his face extremely grim. "They want revenge, revenge for those dead scum."
Soras nodded continuously, his serious expression accompanied by a heavy voice, slowly saying, "The alien threat is immense. We must unite to face them."
"That is natural." Blazkowicz nodded in agreement with his brother's statement.
The Rangdan's threat was indeed very direct. Even without showing their full power, the pressure they exerted made the Imperium uneasy.
Soras was right; the Rangdan could not be handled by a single Legion or a single fleet alone. The Imperium needed to unite all its strength to defeat this unprecedented adversary.
"What were your losses?" Soras asked with hesitation, a hint of apology in his tone. "Forgive me, that question is quite presumptuous."
Asking about Legion losses was, to some extent, presumptuous.
It not only concerned the Legion's honor but also allowed others to infer the strength of both sides and the specific ship exchange ratio from the information.
In major battles, such information was strictly confidential, and participants were not allowed to disclose it to anyone.
Only the Emperor and Malcador had the right to know everything.
The citizens of the Imperium only knew that the Imperium achieved victory after victory, defeating countless powerful enemies.
Russ waved his hand, looking unconcerned, and said, "No need to apologize. Among us brothers, we naturally speak from the heart."
Blazkowicz nodded, signaling to Soras not to worry: "Knowing both sides' losses will also make you wary; you might be involved in the next operation."
Here it comes!
Although he said that, the probing nature of the question made Blazkowicz and Russ feel a sense of alert.
"Our fleet, including the First Legion Fleet, suffered losses of more than half."
Blazkowicz's expression darkened as he spoke, placing his wine glass on the table, his mood instantly dropping significantly.
"Besides the fleet, the Space Wolves lost over twenty thousand warriors," Russ said, his golden eyes reddening, revealing genuine emotion.
Although the actual casualties were not that high, the Great Wolf still felt sad.
Blazkowicz continued, "The First Legion suffered over half its strength. They need to halt the Great Crusade, recruit, and recuperate."
Alpharius, listening from a distance, twitched his lips slightly, constantly complaining internally.
Blazkowicz Novick and Leman Russ.
One, with thick eyebrows and large eyes, lied without batting an eyelid; the other, seemingly barbaric, had better acting skills than himself.
Had he not already received news from his progeny, he might have truly been deceived by these two's coordinated act and their rhetoric.
He shook his head and continued to savor the delicacies on the table, indulging his taste buds.
The Nur Stars had many good things, and their food was exquisite. If he had the chance in the future, he had to ask his brother for some.
Unaware that he was being thought of, Blazkowicz continued to speak of the casualties, his heroic face tinged with sorrow, making it painful to watch.
"Such severe losses?" Soras frowned, his face tense, saying in disbelief, "Are the Rangdan truly that powerful?"
Blazkowicz and Russ nodded heavily, their faces filled with apprehension and lingering fear.
Now that multiple parties were communicating, they generally wouldn't reveal too much, and the Rangdan had been annihilated, leaving no witnesses.
"Their strength is one aspect," Blazkowicz nodded again, leaning towards him and saying cautiously, "the Imperium's intelligence was also leaked. The Rangdan knew our military intelligence, causing us huge losses. If it weren't for the heroic fighting of the Imperium's warriors, we would very likely have lost the war."
Soras shuddered, his silver-grey eyes looking at Blazkowicz in disbelief, as if asking his brother—had the Imperium produced a traitor?
Blazkowicz nodded silently, telling him, "Don't spread it. I am currently investigating the spy, and I have some leads."
Hearing his brother say this, Soras breathed a sigh of relief, nodding silently to digest this explosive news.
Seeing his brother's expression, Blazkowicz wondered if he had overthought things.
He had suspected Soras, that this brother had leaked Imperial intelligence, leaving the Imperium caught off guard.
He deliberately revealed the news of the internal traitor, throwing out this bait to see his blood brother's reaction.
Soras' reaction was very normal, making Blazkowicz wonder if he had overthought things.
Was he truly wrong? Blazkowicz incessantly questioned himself deep within his heart.
His suspicion of his brother transformed into a long whip, lashing at his heart repeatedly, asking him why he would doubt his blood brother.
He had to be suspicious!
The man before him was his blood brother, but he still needed to be suspected because Soras' actions were peculiar in every way.
This brother roamed within the Imperium of Man, constantly contacting Primarchs and exploring the combat styles of various Legions.
Alpharius' warning was not unfounded, causing Blazkowicz to grow suspicious of Soras.
Why did Blazkowicz trust Alpharius? The reason was actually very simple.
Alpharius grew up beside the Emperor and was clearly an Imperial loyalist; there was no doubt about that.
After Blazkowicz discovered him, Alpharius also did not hide his identity, openly admitting who he was.
Based on this alone, Blazkowicz's trust in him far surpassed that for Soras.
Therefore, Blazkowicz had to suspect Soras to prevent an even greater mistake from occurring.
So he cast out a bait, telling his brother that he knew there was an internal traitor and was investigating.
This was a small ploy.
Assuming Soras truly had a problem, he would inevitably be apprehensive and dare not delve deeper into acquiring intelligence.
If he had no issues whatsoever, after the war with the Rangdan was completely over, he would apologize to his brother.
But Blazkowicz was also conflicted, hoping his precautions were effective, yet also hoping everything he did was unnecessary.
Blazkowicz wished Soras was innocent, and that his intelligence gathering was merely a unique hobby of his brother.
And that fighting alongside his brother Legions was from a strategic perspective, to achieve closer cooperation in future wars.
"That's truly terrifying." Soras shook his head, visibly shaken by his brother's news: "I didn't expect that even under the Imperial Truth, someone would dare to betray the Imperium's interests."
Russ' face was filled with hatred, his fangs glinting coldly at the corners of his mouth, "If I find out who it is, I'll skin him alive!"
The Wolves hated traitors, and their punishment for them was brutal.
"Wearing human skin, yet betraying the interests of the race, smashing the pot after eating," Russ seemed drunk, becoming more incoherent as he spoke: "After skinning them, there'll be white phosphorus immolation…"
Perhaps his brother's crudeness made Soras a bit uncomfortable; his expression subtly changed, and he said to Russ: "That seems a bit too cruel."
White phosphorus immolation. A terrifying torture used by the Imperium to execute stubborn cultists, eliminating ignorant beliefs through pain.
Specialized white phosphorus was applied all over the condemned, and once ignited, the thousand-degree white phosphorus flames would burn into the bone marrow, bringing unimaginable pain.
Even the most steadfast believers found it difficult to maintain their faith in the fire, begging for a quick death.
"Cruel?" Russ' wild face, flushed with drink, half-closed his drunken eyes and said to his brother: "Let them speak of cruelty to the dead, for how many Imperial soldiers have perished in the void because of leaked intelligence."
"They died without knowing that the weapons that killed them were handed to xenos by their own kin."
"Our soldiers are fighting desperately, shedding their blood for the peace of the Imperium; human traitors must die!"
Sighing deeply, Soras' face was expressionless, and he said stiffly: "Indeed, they deserve to die."
"I've never had a good impression of traitors." Blazkowicz also nodded, agreeing with Russ' viewpoint.
The decline of Argent Nur was triggered by traitors.
Strong fortresses are often not brought down from the outside; internal traitors are the most malicious existence.
Traitors often betray everyone for some petty gain or personal interests.
"If you catch him, I must personally slay him!" Seemingly truly drunk, Russ gritted his teeth and said to his two brothers: "I must do it myself."
"Naturally." Blazkowicz readily agreed; he would not refuse Russ' request.
Soras also looked at his wild brother, slowly nodding, signifying his assent.
"There's another possibility." Blazkowicz raised his wine glass for Russ to refill, and slowly offered a conjecture: "The human traitor is by no means willingly betraying the Imperium's interests."
"Tell us." Soras' eyes lit up, gesturing for his brother to continue.
Blazkowicz slowly explained: "The Rangdan's brain fluid is very dangerous; ordinary people who drink a tiny dose will be mentally controlled by the Rangdan."
"Perhaps in places unknown to us, the Rangdan have controlled some high-ranking Imperium officials, helping them acquire intelligence."
"This possibility is very high, after all, no one wants to bear eternal infamy and collude with xenos."
"High-ranking officials who can access Legion intelligence must hold high positions and wield great power within the Imperium, influential figures who can call the shots."
"The Rangdan cannot sway them with benefits; it can only be through mind control, forcing them to betray Imperial intelligence."
As he spoke, Blazkowicz stared intently at Soras, trying to get feedback from his serious face.
But he only saw a still pool, as if it truly had nothing to do with him.
Blazkowicz felt a mix of joy and worry about this, unsure how to interpret it.
Joy because his brother showed no reaction, perhaps he wasn't involved, and everything was his own conjecture.
Worry because his brother showed no reaction, perhaps he knew everything and was now deeply burying his emotions, continuing down a dark path.
"A difficult and embattled victory," Soras shook his head regretfully, looking at Blazkowicz with admiration: "Your fleet must have been the decisive factor."
Thump~
Blazkowicz felt his heart plummet, as if it had hit the ground; his worst fear was happening right before his eyes.
The Rangdan understood the Imperium well but knew nothing of the Nur Stars.
Now, the xeno intelligence system was most eager to obtain information about the Nur Stars.
If anyone else had asked Blazkowicz, or tried to access Argent Nur data, he would have already arrested the prying individual.
At this juncture, the only people probing the Nur Stars were Rangdan slaves, no one else.
Russ, who was nearby, heard this, and his hand twitched imperceptibly; he also understood the crucial point.
In the distance, Alpharius' eyes narrowed, pondering Soras' motives and intentions.
As a master strategist, he could not possibly fail to understand the importance of intelligence secrecy at this critical moment.
All parties involved in the Rangdan war were on edge, not daring to be even slightly negligent.
Moribus Solas' inquiry raised his own danger level, further increasing the suspicion of Blazkowicz and others.
Yet his inquiry was so direct, without disguise or circumlocution, a straightforward question that made it difficult to discern his true intent.
What exactly was he doing?
This question arose simultaneously in the minds of the three Primarchs, who pondered Soras' intentions.
He was the "Warmaster" acknowledged by Horus, and his insight and strategy were naturally extraordinary; he couldn't possibly fail to anticipate his brothers' suspicions.
If others had said Soras had the demeanor of a Warmaster, there might have been some debate, but Horus' acknowledgment surely provided sufficient reason.
Soras was too contradictory. Just like his actions, everything he did had points of contradiction.
"This person definitely has a problem!"
In a single second, countless thoughts spun in the Primarchs' minds, ultimately leading to this conclusion.
In the hearts of Blazkowicz, Russ, and Alpharius, they were convinced that Soras' actions were absolutely problematic!
Although they didn't know his specific intention, they could not reveal any information about the Nur Stars.
"You can't say that." Blazkowicz shook his head slightly, a sad expression on his face: "The Argent Nur fleet's firepower is indeed stronger than the xenos', but without the Imperium's soldiers to engage them, it's difficult to fully utilize its advantages."
Admitting the firepower is strong, but exactly how strong, Soras, you'll have to guess.
If you truly have a connection with the Rangdan, the escaping Rangdan warships will let you know the specific firepower of the Argent Nur warships.
Argent Nur technology surpasses that of the Imperium; this is a consensus throughout the Imperium, but no one can say exactly by how much.
"If Imperial ships had your firepower, wouldn't dealing with the Rangdan be even easier?"
Soras looked at Blazkowicz sincerely, his silver-grey eyes shining, as if envisioning the Rangdan's continuous retreat.
Blazkowicz's finger paused; he hadn't expected his brother's probing to be so clumsy and inept.
Since that was the case, he no longer needed to hold back, responding with what his brother wanted, and following Soras' words.
Blazkowicz looked directly into his brother's eyes, his dark gaze unyielding, and asked in a low voice: "Brother, in what capacity are you speaking with me?"
Since Soras wasn't playing by the rules, he didn't want to resort to tricks either.
Did he want to use moral coercion to obtain the technology of the Nur Stars?
Then let's clarify their identities and have a straightforward discussion, point for point.
"I am the Lord of the Nur Stars," Blazkowicz said with a serious expression, a terrifying aura emanating from him as he asked Soras again: "Moribus Solas, in what capacity are you speaking with me?"
The deep voice, laden with power, bore down, and even though Blazkowicz intentionally reined it in, it instantly silenced the inner circle.
The atmosphere in the room abruptly changed; the Custodians and Space Marines, eyes downcast, sat quietly in their seats, not daring to make any movement.
The Second Legion Primarch's guard stood rigidly, unsure what they should do now.
Any action they took now would escalate the tension in the room.
Sitting quietly in their seats, awaiting the Primarch's command, was their best option.
His brother's sharp question struck Soras' heart like a heavy hammer.
Without any so-called "probing" or the expected reserve, Blazkowicz's words cut straight to the point, tearing through the veils and rhetoric.
The Primarchs present were momentarily stunned by the question.
As Blazkowicz said, what was his identity?
He was the Lord of the Nur Stars, the Warrior King of the Sentinels, a Doom Slayer, and an independent entity recognized by the Emperor.
He was a blood-related brother, a collaborator with the Imperium of Man, and a powerful overlord who ruled the stars.
In what capacity should they discuss with him?
Soras' eyes flickered; he understood his blood brother's intention was to make him explicitly state the capacity in which they would converse.
If he answered "brother," it would be a personal matter, making the conversation informal, and whether the discussion was pleasant would depend entirely on their relationship.
If he answered "Imperium of Man," then this small probe would immediately elevate to a height it didn't belong to.
The one sitting at the table would not be a Primarch but the Emperor himself or his authorized negotiator.
Could he, then, represent the Imperium of Man?
The answer to this question was obvious: Soras could not, his Primarch brothers could not, and even Malcador the Regent could not.
The Imperium of Man shone with countless stars, but other than the Emperor—the Emperor—no single individual could represent the Imperium of Man.
The feeler of a probe had met with an iron fist, and Soras had not expected his brother's response to be so simple and direct, devoid of the traditional pulling and pushing of court politics.
"Just some musings…" He shook his head helplessly in response, actively cutting off the idea of probing further.
His blood brother's firm response had caught him off guard, forcing him to abandon the extension of the topic.
The status the Emperor had granted Blazkowicz was like an uncrossable chasm, lying in the middle of the discussion, rendering words pale and powerless.
Before meeting his brother, Soras had read the "Star Pact," and he had carefully considered every clause.
He finally concluded that as long as the Nur Stars acknowledged themselves as part of humanity, the Imperium of Man had no right to interfere in anything that happened within its borders.
The two most sensitive issues for the Imperium of Man were artificial intelligence and xenos.
Artificial intelligence had a separate agreement and was handled properly. Xenos were targets both sides were eager to destroy, with no disagreements.
Perhaps the Emperor had long foreseen the scrutiny and threats Blazkowicz and the Nur Stars would face, thus granting them the greatest freedom and independence, cutting off all external troubles.
Soras sighed in his heart, grieving his powerlessness, and also abandoned any thought of probing.
In fact, he knew in his heart that there was a rift between him and his brothers.
He was unwilling to explain the reasons, nor would he blame his brother's vigilance; only he knew the bitterness within.
What was his identity?
Just a sorrowful man…
Soras shook his head and smiled bitterly: "The technology of Argent Nur has many techniques that are explicitly forbidden within the Imperium of Man. My sorrow lies in these restrictions."
"If we could use them freely, we would gain an unparalleled advantage in the war against xenos."
Hearing his brother say this, Blazkowicz knew he had given up his intentions. He then lowered his oppressive aura and nodded, sighing, "Indeed."
The confrontation between the Primarchs ended, instantly relaxing the atmosphere in the inner circle, as if nothing had happened.
The Custodes and Space Marines breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that the conflict had not continued.
Russ also shed his drunken demeanor and chimed in, "But the price we paid in the past makes us dare not venture there again."
The three's statements were very veiled, not mentioning the words "artificial intelligence," but they understood each other implicitly.
"I truly wish I could see the brilliance of the Nur Stars." Soras took a sip of his wine, his eyes filled with longing.
His sincerity was evident, his eyes shining, without any hint of probing or searching, only the purest longing.
Blazkowicz picked up the conversation, smiling as he extended a sincere invitation: "You can accompany us. Russ and I need to go back to repair our ships."
He did not sense any probing or lies; the longing was very real, the anticipation undisguised.
"It's perfect for the three of us to go together and drink merrily in Blazkowicz's homeland," Russ also invited, his bestial intuition detecting no falsehood.
His mysterious brother truly wanted to see it, without any impurities, without defiling its beauty.
"No." Hearing his brothers' sincere invitation, Soras shook his head with a bitter smile: "I don't have time; I must accelerate the pace of the Great Crusade."
"The Emperor is involved in the Great Crusade; he has issued urgings and warnings for me to speed up the conquest."
"You must be aware of the recent situation of the Second Legion; I cannot delay the Great Crusade any longer."
"You all have valid reasons; you've just been through a major battle, your ships need repair, and your Legion must re-organize."
His eyes gleamed with silver light, now showing a certain frankness as he stated his unavoidable reasons.
Blazkowicz raised his cup to toast him but keenly noticed that Soras did not call the Emperor "Father."
This simple address actually revealed many detailed issues.
Russ and his other brothers all called the Emperor Father and regarded it as an honor.
Blazkowicz had his own reasons; apart from King Nowick, he would not call any other man Father.
Following this line of thought, Blazkowicz pondered, what was Soras' reason?
"Brother," Blazkowicz's face was solemn, and he genuinely asked Soras, "What troubles do you have that you are unwilling to share with your blood brothers?"
He had an internal assessment that the crucial factor was likely the root of his brother's strange actions.
Soras merely shook his head, drank the fine wine in his hand, and refused to answer Blazkowicz's question.
He then said to Blazkowicz and Russ, "Brothers, I…"
The words were on his lips, but he stopped. Soras hesitated.
His expression changed rapidly, from struggle and hesitation, quickly transforming into determination.
Blazkowicz and Russ exchanged glances; they did not understand what caused their brother such anguish and conflict.
Finally, with a resolute expression, Soras firmly told them, "Everything I do is supported by ample personal reasons; I must do this."
With words spoken, it meant for Blazkowicz to ask no further questions.
Blazkowicz's dark eyes held pity as he looked at his brother, shaking his head with a pained helplessness.
He could feel the pain in the words, and even more, he could sense the unshakeable resolve.
"It's time to leave." Soras slowly rose, his Power Armor scraping, a faint, indifferent smile on his face.
His purpose for coming here had been seen through; his two brothers were highly vigilant and had detected his probing.
For everyone's sake, he chose to leave. Without explicitly stating it, it could be considered a "good parting."
His abrupt intrusion into the banquet had made his two brothers and their three fleets extremely wary; indeed, he was not a good guest.
A sour feeling welled up in Soras' heart, like overturned lemonade, slowly flowing within him.
He didn't know how to describe his complex feelings at that moment.
He sighed for not having gained any information, yet paradoxically, he was happy about it—contradictory and complex.
"We'll see you off." Blazkowicz and Russ stood up, as warm as they had been initially.
They knew Soras was determined to leave and did not try too hard to persuade him, only offering to see their brother off.
Soras nodded silently, and with Blazkowicz leading the way and Russ accompanying him, the three left the banquet together.
The Primarch's guard, seeing their Primarch rise, immediately bid farewell to their Legion cousins and followed their Gene-Father's footsteps.
Coming and going in a hurry, Blazkowicz and Russ stood on the landing pad, watching Soras' shuttle depart.
"He carries an unspeakable burden," Russ' eyes reflected the starry river as he watched the shuttle recede, letting out a low sigh:
"Perhaps one day, he can lay down his burden and have a heart-to-heart talk with us."
"Then there will be no more of these calculations and wariness; we can just talk."
Blazkowicz was expressionless, his heart worried about his brother's ultimate goal: "We don't know his specific purpose, but we sincerely hope to truly embrace our brother."
Soon after Soras left the Royal Majesty, a strange light illuminated the Morse Solar System.
The Second Legion's fleet entered the Warp, leaving the Rangdan battlefield and heading towards the Great Crusade route.
They had to participate in the war as soon as possible, even conquer more quickly, to catch up on lost progress and avoid being held accountable by the Emperor.
With the departure of the Lord of the Second Legion, the banquet atmosphere became even more lively.
The Legion warriors spoke freely, discussing their performance in the Rangdan War and recounting their achievements to their gene-brothers.
Some Space Marines were also secretly saddened, as close battle brothers had sacrificed themselves in the fight against xenos.
The banquet lasted a full two hundred forty Terra hours, with countless people coming and going, ensuring all soldiers participated in the feast through rotations.
And Blazkowicz and Russ, whenever each group left, would always offer words of blessing from the high platform.