Three Ultramarines Strike Cruisers—the Unyielding Will, the Spear of Courage, and the Heart of Courage—slowly departed the orbit of the Mona Lisa star, an orbit thoroughly stained by plague and despair, like weary behemoths.
On the bridge, the atmosphere was as heavy as lead. Every commander, from Chapter Master Marius Calgar (via remote communication) to the three Captains, stared with grim faces at the ominous yellow-green planet, shrinking in the observation window.
It was beyond saving.
This was not a strategic failure, but a fundamental collapse. Nurgle's corruption had penetrated deep into the stellar core, intertwining with its ecology and even its physical laws. Ordinary purification methods were ineffective; any Imperial forces left behind would only be slowly consumed by endless waves of demons and deadly plagues, perhaps even transformed into new forces of Chaos.
Awaiting this planet was only the most extreme and thorough final judgment from the Imperial Inquisition—Exterminatus. At that time, whether it be the saturation bombardment of macro-cannons, the crust-shattering cyclonic torpedoes, or the even more terrifying virus bombs or plasma incineration, all traces of life in this star system, and even the existence of the planet itself, would be completely erased. This was the most brutal and necessary measure, taken to prevent the spread of contamination after achieving a complete victory against Chaos.
A helpless rage and profound sorrow enveloped the fleet. They had made immense sacrifices, yet failed to save anything, and instead had to personally sign its death warrant.
A highly rigorous ritual was underway in a strictly isolated, multi-layered, sealed purification chamber aboard the Heart of Courage.
Moreno, Valerius, and Kaldor, the three Grey Knights, stood in the center of the chamber. Their ornate silver-grey armor had been removed and was being meticulously inspected and cleansed by specially blessed Tech-Priests and servo-skulls, with any tiny trace of defilement immediately removed.
They themselves stood within several intersecting fields of pure blue psychic energy, as high-intensity ultraviolet light and sacred incense cascaded over their bodies. Even with the Grey Knights' battle-hardened bodies, which possess extreme resistance to Chaos, they had to undergo this most thorough purification process to ensure that not a single trace of Nurgle's plague or corrupting spores was carried onto the ship. Any oversight could lead to the demise of the entire warship, and even the entire Ultramar sector.
Cold disinfectant and scorching energy flowed through their bodies, but they stood like three marble statues, expressionless, with firm gazes, as if it were not they themselves enduring all of this. This was part of their duty, the price that must be paid to combat Chaos.
Meanwhile, in the officer's conference room of the Heart of Courage, the atmosphere was equally solemn.
Captain Sicarius of the 2nd Company, Captain Hector of the 6th Company, and Captain Cassius of the 7th Company sat around the tactical holotable. On the star map, the image of the Mona Lisa star was marked with a giant skull and red cross-hairs indicating extreme danger.
The three Captains had just returned from a hellish battlefield, their faces etched with fatigue, their armor still bearing traces of uncleaned gunpowder and blood. Energy drinks were on the conference table, but no one was in the mood to touch them.
"We almost all perished there," Captain Sicarius broke the silence first, his voice hoarse, tinged with lingering fear and an unsuppressed anger. "Three entire Astartes companies! If the Grey Knights hadn't detected something amiss early on, drawing the attention of Nurgle's main force and buying us time to withdraw..."
He slammed a fist heavily on the metal table, producing a loud clang.
"What the hell are the intelligence departments doing?!" Captain Cassius growled, one of his arms still in a temporary brace, an injury sustained during a battle with Necrons. "'Suspected Chaos infiltration'? This isn't infiltration, this is Nurgle's backyard! The entire planet is rotten to the core! If they had even sent a reconnaissance squad to approach the atmosphere and take a sniff, they wouldn't have come up with such an absurd conclusion!"
Captain Hector was relatively calm, but his tightly furrowed brow and the cold glint in his eyes showed that his anger was no less than the other two. "This intelligence failure is far more serious than usual. This can no longer be explained by mere dereliction of duty. The fallen brothers, the lost equipment... someone must bear this responsibility."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over his two colleagues, and lowered his voice: "Moreover, don't you find it strange? While Nurgle's power is adept at concealment and corruption, to erode an entire industrial planet to this extent is by no means an overnight task. There must have been numerous signs, such as large-scale disappearances of the population, ecological mutations, strange plagues spreading... How could these signs have completely escaped the notice of the local Planetary Defense Forces, the Planetary Governor, and even the Inquisition?"
"Unless..." Captain Sicarius's eyes sharpened, "someone deliberately concealed it, or... misled us?"
Captain Cassius suddenly looked up: "You mean... an internal..."
"I have no evidence," Captain Hector interrupted him, his tone cautious. "But the strangeness of it all makes one suspicious. The channels that provided this intelligence must be thoroughly investigated."
The three Captains fell silent. This suspicion was more chilling than any enemy on the battlefield. If there truly were people within the Imperium colluding with Chaos, or if infiltration had reached such a high level, the consequences would be unimaginable.
"And those Grey Knights..." Sicarius suddenly said, his tone complex. "While I still don't care for their ways, this time... we really owe them. Especially Moreno, he detected Nurgle's scheme early."
"They are indeed professionals when it comes to dealing with Chaos," Hector rarely agreed. "But their very existence also signifies the extreme seriousness of the problem."
Captain Cassius nodded: "Regardless, this incident must be reported immediately and in detail to the Chapter Master and the Ultramar high command. The intelligence system's loopholes must be plugged, compensation for fallen brothers must be implemented, and monitoring of the Mona Lisa star must be intensified, until... the Exterminatus is carried out."
The meeting concluded in a heavy atmosphere. The three Captains departed, each preparing to write reports and reorganize their units. But the shadow left by the Mona Lisa star, and the doubts hidden within the fog of intelligence, clung to the hearts of every survivor like a persistent malady.
The destruction of this planet was a foregone conclusion, but the internal hidden dangers and potential threats it revealed might have only just begun to surface.
Three hours of Warp travel felt like centuries. When the three scarred Strike Cruisers finally emerged from that bizarre dimension and returned to the cold void where the main Ultramar fleet was stationed, every crew member and warrior felt a sense of relief, as if awakening from a long dream.
The Macragge's Honour, like a silent and majestic mother, quietly awaited the return of her children. The docking bay doors slowly opened, and the surviving warriors lined up, silently stepping onto the familiar deck. Their armor was covered in the marks of battle, their expressions weary, but their eyes held a new resolve and solemnity, forged by their brush with death.
The wounded were given priority for transport to the medical deck. Dorian's massive and severely deformed Terminator body was carefully placed on a grav-stretcher and wheeled directly to the intensive care unit. As a 'regular' in the medical bay, he would be personally treated by Apothecary Vorlak, the most experienced medic in the Chapter. Luna was sent to a medical pod reserved for Tech-Sergeants, where more precise instruments could repair her damaged physiological functions and internal mechanical implants.
Other uninjured warriors had to undergo a series of extremely strict, even harsh, disinfection procedures. High-pressure holy water rinses, ultraviolet radiation exposure, full-body psychic scans, and even oral administration of blessed antimicrobial agents... every step was designed to ensure that not a single trace of tiny threats from Nurgle's corrupted world was brought onto the battleship. Only after completing all of this were the warriors allowed to return to their respective rest areas or armories to recuperate or maintain their battle-worn weapons and equipment.
Lina and Eilaas had long been waiting anxiously by the hangar passage, craning their necks. When they saw Sergeant Golden and Kaldor appear in the queue, they immediately ran over.
"Sergeant Golden! Kaldor!" Lina's voice was urgent, "Where is Luna? Where is Dorian? Why didn't they come back with you?"
Eilaas also nervously clutched Lina's arm, her green eyes filled with worry.
Kaldor looked at the two girls' anxious faces, softened his tone, and comforted them, "Don't worry, they're fine. They just sustained some injuries in battle and have been sent to the medical bay. Apothecary Vorlak is personally looking after Dorian, and Luna will also receive the best treatment. It won't be long before you see them lively and well."
Hearing Kaldor's affirmative reply, Lina and Eilaas finally let out a long sigh of relief, patting their chests as if a huge burden had been lifted. To them, every member of Second Squad was like family.
"Let's go, back to the lounge first." Sergeant Golden looked a bit tired and waved his hand.
The four returned to Second Squad's lounge. Closing the door, cutting off the outside noise, the atmosphere relaxed a little. Lina eagerly began to recount their previous experiences: "Sergeant, Kaldor, you don't know, when you were out of contact, the Grey Knights suddenly found us..."
She meticulously described how Moreno and his two companions appeared, how they questioned them, and finally how they asked them to deliver a message, including Eilaas's "heroic" but ineffective punch.
"...And then we rushed to tell the Chapter Master! Although the Honour Guard wouldn't let us in at first, the Chapter Master later personally allowed us inside!" Lina said, a hint of lingering fear and excitement still on her face.
Eilaas nodded vigorously and added, "The Chapter Master listened to us and even praised us! And..." She tilted her head, a hint of confusion in her green eyes, "The Chapter Master was so gentle and considerate when speaking to us, not at all like a high-ranking commander, but more like... like an elder who cared deeply for us."
She paused, then asked with even more confusion, "But why do Captain Cassius and Captain Sicarius seem particularly afraid of the Chapter Master? Especially Captain Sicarius, last time we saw the Chapter Master look at him, he was so nervous he seemed afraid to even move?"
This question made both Sergeant Golden and Kaldor freeze for a moment. A flicker of subtle embarrassment crossed Golden's face. He cleared his throat, quickly changed the subject, and chuckled, "Ahem... Eilaas, you must have seen wrong. The Chapter Master is also very... well... very caring towards the Captains. It's just that his methods might be different."
He, of course, knew the truth. Chapter Master Marius Calgar naturally showed more elder-like tolerance and gentleness towards technical personnel like Lina and Eilaas, whom he had watched grow up and who were not in the direct military command hierarchy. But for commanders of all ranks, especially the Captains who bore heavy responsibilities, the Chapter Master's demands were extremely strict. He was fair in rewards and punishments, and utterly impartial. When suffering a defeat or making a major mistake on the battlefield, the Captains were often the first to bear the Chapter Master's thunderous wrath. That kind of pressure was not something ordinary people could endure. Captain Sicarius had been severely reprimanded last time because Dorian had swapped helmets with a Blood Raven in the 2nd Company's recuperation area, so it was perfectly normal for him to have a psychological shadow.
To change the subject, Kaldor took over, beginning to tell the two girls about their experiences on the "Mona Lisa" planet. He did not mention the disgusting Nurgle Demons and the ultimately desperate evacuation, but instead focused on the earlier battles: how the Thunderhawk Gunship was shot down by precise gauss rays; how they encountered and ultimately defeated the eerily deadly Deathmark sniper; how Dorian erupted with astonishing courage and strength, single-handedly dueling a massive Plague Marine and ultimately smashing it into pulp; and also the Salamanders brothers, dark-skinned yet incredibly resilient and reliable, who fought alongside them.
Unlike listening to Dorian's exaggerated bragging, Lina and Eilaas listened with extreme seriousness, their eyes unblinking, as if they were there themselves. When they heard a thrilling part, they would nervously cover their mouths; when they heard Dorian fighting bravely, their eyes would glow with admiration.
The storytelling temporarily dispelled Kaldor's fatigue and significantly eased the atmosphere in the lounge.
At this moment, Golden took out something sealed in a bag—it was Dorian's eagle-faced helmet, which had been through many trials and had undergone strict disinfection.
"When that guy Dorian wakes up, give this back to him." Golden placed the helmet on the table, his tone somewhat complex, "Although this scoundrel always causes trouble, this time... he truly rendered great service. He deserves this."
Then, he changed the subject, looking at Lina and Eilaas, a "sympathetic" smile on his face: "However, his set of Ironclad Terminator armor... is pretty much completely ruined, severely deformed, and the internal systems are probably a mess. And that Storm Shield, its edges are melted. The next few days, you two Tech-Sergeants are going to be busy; fixing them will take a lot of effort."
Lina and Eilaas, upon hearing this, not only didn't find it troublesome but their eyes lit up, and they immediately puffed out their chests and guaranteed, "Don't worry, Sergeant! We will definitely fix Dorian's armor and shield to be even sturdier! And cooler than before!"
For Tech-Sergeants, personally repairing the equipment of a hero who had achieved military honors was an honor in itself.
After chatting for a while longer, Golden and Kaldor were truly too tired to resist, so they got up and returned to their respective cabins to rest. Lina and Eilaas, full of energy, immediately prepared to head to the armory to first inspect Dorian's "in need of saving" Terminator armor.
The two girls walked down the wide corridor towards the armory. However, as they passed the area where the Chapter Master's office was located, they involuntarily slowed their steps.
The heavy adamantium door of the Chapter Master's office was not completely closed, leaving a gap. And right at the doorway, First Company Captain Cassius, Second Company Captain Sicarius, Sixth Company Captain Hector, and Seventh Company Captain Cassius stood side by side! The four Captains, who were usually majestic and commanded hundreds of Astartes warriors, now stood like new recruits who had made a mistake, heads bowed, bodies rigid, not daring to even breathe loudly.
And from the crack in the door, Chapter Master Marius Calgar's voice, suppressed with extreme rage and as cold as winter, emanated:
"Cassius, Sicarius, Hector, Cassius, you..."
The specific content that followed was unclear, but just the tone sent an inexplicable chill down Lina and Eilaas's spines outside the door, and they instinctively shrank their necks.
They exchanged glances, both seeing disbelief in the other's eyes.
Eilaas quietly tugged at Lina's sleeve and whispered in a very low breath, "Sister Lina... what Sergeant Golden said... that the Chapter Master is also very 'gentle' with the Captains... it seems... that's not quite the case..."
Looking at the four Captains, who were silent as cicadas in winter, as if they could be crushed by the Chapter Master's wrath at any moment, and recalling Golden's clearly perfunctory explanation earlier, the "kind elder" image that the two girls had just formed instantly crumbled a bit. It seemed the Chapter Master's "gentleness" was also selective.
The low pressure in the Chapter Master's office persisted for a considerable time.
When the four Company Captains finally filed out as if granted a great pardon, their faces were all grim, especially that of 2nd Company Captain Sicarius.
They exchanged no words, simply leaving the oppressive area silently and swiftly.
Inside the office, Chapter Master Marius Calgar stood alone before the massive observation window, gazing at the orderly fleet outside and the distant, twinkling lights of Macragge.
An unshakeable gloom shrouded his resolute face.
The painful lesson of the 'Mona Lisa' star system was like a sharp thorn, deeply embedded in his heart.
Three Astartes companies were almost entirely annihilated, ultimately forced to abandon the entire planet and execute Exterminatus, which was a heavy blow to the glory of the Ultramarines and the defensive capabilities of Ultramar.
The root of all this, to a large extent, lay in the severely inaccurate, almost fatal, intelligence report.
One intelligence error might be a coincidence, but repeated occurrences… especially in matters involving Chaos… made him suspect deeper issues at play.
The Greater Daemon of Slaanesh on Gloom IV, the Nurgle corruption on 'Mona Lisa'… each time, his sons were put in extremely dangerous situations.
An internal… cleansing was necessary.
He turned and pressed an encrypted channel on his communicator: "Cassius, come back for a moment."
Soon, 1st Company Captain Cassius returned, his expression having recovered its usual composure, though his eyes held a hint of gravity.
"Chapter Master."
"Close the door." Calgar's voice was low and serious.
Only when the office was left to just the two of them did Calgar slowly speak: "Regarding the intelligence issue, what are your thoughts?"
Cassius pondered for a moment, then cautiously replied: "Two major errors, not far apart in time, both involving Chaos, and directly targeting our Chapter's elite.
The possibility of coincidence… is very low.
I believe there's a possibility of human interference or a systemic vulnerability."
"My thoughts exactly." Calgar nodded, his gaze as sharp as an eagle's, "I cannot hand this matter over to the Inquisition; that would only complicate things further, and might even be exploited by those with ulterior motives.
I need an absolutely reliable person, starting from within, to discreetly investigate all links and personnel involved in handling the intelligence for these two missions, including the relevant Imperial departments we liaise with."
His gaze fell on Cassius: "This task, I entrust to you, Cassius.
You are the Captain of the First Company, one of my most trusted brothers.
Remember, absolute secrecy, operate in the shadows, and do not alert anyone.
Any suspicious leads, report them directly to me."
Cassius straightened his body and heavily pounded his chest: "Understood, Chapter Master!
I swear on my honor, I will uncover the truth!"
He deeply understood the sensitivity and importance of this mission, as it concerned the safety of the Chapter and even Ultramar.
"Go.
Act carefully." Calgar waved his hand.
Cassius saluted again, then turned and left, his steps steady, but the burden on his shoulders was clearly much heavier.
Meanwhile, in the massive central repair bay of the Macragge's Honour, another scene of bustling activity unfolded.
Lina and Eilaas, wearing oil-stained work uniforms, sweat beading on their small faces, were busily working around Dorian's Ironclad Terminator armor, which was almost a heap of scrap metal.
Several Tech-Priests from the Adeptus Mechanicus assisted, using mechanical tendrils to secure armor components, emitting low data chants and binary prayers.
The extent of the armor's damage far exceeded expectations.
The chest plate was severely dented, almost folded in half; the shoulder pads were twisted and torn; the leg's hydraulic system was completely ruptured; and the internal neural connectors and power transmission conduits were a tangled mess.
They had been working all morning, employing various techniques such as hydraulic correction, laser welding, and metal remelting, only managing to roughly restore the most severely deformed outer shell to its approximate shape.
The intricate internal systems were the truly headache-inducing problem.
"Seventy percent of the servo motor assembly is overloaded and burned out, requiring complete replacement…" "Large areas of the neural synchronization circuit are broken, re-laying will take at least forty hours…" "All power core buffer gel has leaked, and the core itself has slight deformation, requiring shipment back to Mars headquarters or the Zhao-Oladrag Forge World for professional calibration…"
The Tech-Priests reported one bad news after another in their emotionless electronic voices.
Eilaas wiped the sweat from her forehead, looking at the giant 'patient' before her, feeling a wave of powerlessness.
She sat back, intending to find a place to rest, but didn't notice a bench behind her, and on that bench sat an Astartes warrior, wearing only a black physical training suit, not power armor, and resting.
She sat squarely on the warrior's muscular thigh.
"Ugh…" Eilaas didn't pay it any mind; she often did this on the training grounds.
She just pouted and complained, "If only Tech-Sergeant Luna was here… she'd definitely know how to fix these fastest… I don't even know what kind of enemy could injure someone as formidable as Tech-Sergeant Luna so badly…"
She evidently still didn't know that Luna's severe injuries were primarily due to the crash.
The Astartes warrior, who she was using as a human cushion, paused, but wasn't angry; he just found it a little amusing.
He looked at the troubled Eldar girl and said, "The situation was very chaotic at the time.
The 7th Company's drop pods and Thunderhawks had just entered the atmosphere when they were met with an extremely dense, high-speed barrage from the ground and low altitude.
The enemy's anti-air fire was terrifyingly accurate; our formation was instantly broken up, and Thunderhawk Gunships were either shot down or forced to make emergency landings."
His voice carried a hint of heavy recollection: "My brothers and I crashed into an industrial ruin, and as soon as we landed, we were surrounded by Necrons and those… rotting monsters.
Communications were completely cut off; we had no idea where our other brothers were or how they were doing.
We could only fight in small teams, each for ourselves, desperately trying to survive."
He paused, then added: "Tech-Sergeant Luna… I remember her Thunderhawk was directly hit in the engine by a special gauss weapon and crashed.
To survive such an impact is already a miracle."
Eilaas then realized she was sitting on someone, quickly jumped up, and stuck out her tongue apologetically: "I'm sorry, sir… I wasn't paying attention…"
The warrior waved his hand indifferently and stood up: "It's fine.
You two get back to work; Brother Dorian's armor… is indeed severely damaged." He glanced at the pile of wreckage, shook his head, and turned to leave.
Lina and Eilaas exchanged glances, both seeing in each other's eyes a new understanding of the ferocity of the battle.
They stopped complaining, regained their spirits, and plunged back into the arduous repair work.
Outside the medical bay, the corridor light was soft and quiet.
A figure stood silently outside the observation window of Dorian's intensive care unit.
It was Vik.
The scrawny boy, who had been rescued by Kaldor and Dorian, dragging a string of greenskin heads, was now completely transformed.
Ample nutrition and the extremely rigorous training of the Ultramarines' recruit camp had caused his once small body to swell like a balloon.
Though still not particularly tall, his muscle definition was now clearly visible, full of explosive power.
His scars were still prominent but no longer appeared grotesque; instead, they were like medals of honor.
His gaze was still like a wild wolf cub, sharp and focused, but the former ferocity and numbness had been replaced by a determined light.
He had endured hellish training, demonstrating astonishing talent and perseverance in close combat, weapon handling, and tactical proficiency, becoming the undisputed 'champion' among this batch of recruits.
More importantly, after strict testing, his compatibility with the Ultramarines' gene-seed was extremely high, meaning that once he was a little older and his body fully matured, he would be able to undergo the twenty-one sacred and painful gene-seed implantation surgeries, truly becoming a Primaris Astartes, a glorious Ultramarine.
He had heard the news of Dorian's severe injuries and immediately rushed over.
He looked through the observation window at the massive body lying in the medical stasis field, covered in tubes and sensors, still unconscious.
He listened to the other warriors around him, who were whispering about Dorian's heroic deed: how he, alone, faced a Nurgle Plague Marine even larger and more terrifying than a Terminator, fought to the death without retreating, and finally smashed it into a pulp with his Thunder Hammer.
In Vik's heart, an indescribable emotion surged. It was gratitude, shock, and even more, a strong admiration and longing. Dorian's reckless, direct style, fighting to the death to protect his comrades, deeply touched him.
He stood there silently, watching for a very long time.
Then, he raised his right hand, clenched it tightly into a fist, and slowly placed it over his heart on his left chest. There, a heart yearned to become strong, yearned to protect.
In his heart, he made a silent vow to himself, and to the unconscious warrior inside:
"I will definitely become as brave as you. To protect the weak, to protect... those who need protection."
Vik stood outside the medical bay for a long time, his gaze never leaving the sleeping blue giant within the stasis field. Even lying on the medical bed, Dorian's massive physique still exuded a wild, unyielding sense of power. The faint lights and regular sounds from the surrounding precise medical instruments seemed to compose a silent ode to this warrior's bravery.
It wasn't until the sharp and urgent new recruit assembly broadcast echoed through the corridor that Vik snapped back to reality. He took one last, deep look at Dorian, as if to engrave the warrior's image into his mind, then resolutely turned and ran quickly towards the training ground with the standard, swift pace he had learned in new recruit training. His gaze became even more determined, and the vow in his heart burned even hotter, like steel in a furnace.
In another highly confidential and heavily guarded medical area elsewhere on the battleship, the atmosphere was completely different. There was no noisy hum of machinery, only the low thrum of a psychic purification field and the faint scent of some sacred incense.
Chapter Master Marius Calgar walked in alone, the heavy hatch closing silently behind him. Inside the room, three Grey Knights, having removed their iconic silver-grey power armor and wearing only simple grey undersuits, were each receiving treatment.
Valerius and Kaldor primarily suffered from mental fatigue due to psychic overexertion and some minor physical abrasions, which were already under control after the Apothecary's ministrations. Captain Moreno's condition was slightly more severe; he was pale, sitting cross-legged with his eyes closed in the center of a complex psychic focusing array. Two human Apothecaries in white robes, skilled in psychic healing, had their hands on his temples, guiding a gentle flow of psychic energy to help him recover his nearly depleted mental strength. His direct confrontation with the Greater Daemon of Nurgle, especially the final all-out psychic burst and resistance to the plague breath, had consumed too much.
Chapter Master Calgar's arrival was met with a slight nod from the two Apothecaries, but they did not stop their work. Valerius and Kaldor stood up and gave him a simple salute, their expressions as cold as their armor.
Calgar's gaze fell on Moreno, his eyes complex. Frankly, he still did not favor these three Grey Knights. Their previous attempt to forcibly take Kaldor in the corridor was a serious challenge to his authority as Chapter Master and a great disrespect to the brothers of the 7th Company. That resentment could not be completely erased by a single joint operation; he would likely remember it for a lifetime.
However, clear distinctions between reward and punishment, merit and demerit, were the principles of the Ultramarines, and also his guiding rule as a leader.
He was silent for a moment, then slowly spoke, his voice low and solemn, exceptionally clear in the quiet medical bay: "Captain Moreno, Brother Valerius, Brother Kaldor. I, Marius Calgar, as the Defender of the Five Hundred Worlds of Ultramar and Chapter Master of the Ultramarines Chapter, hereby express my gratitude to you."
His gaze swept over the three of them: "On 'Mona Lisa', had you not foreseen Nurgle's plot and decisively acted to draw away his main force, securing valuable time for the withdrawal of my Chapter's warriors, the casualties of the 6th, 7th, and 2nd Companies would have been immeasurable, perhaps even... total annihilation. The Ultramarines will not forget this merit."
Upon hearing the Chapter Master's formal thanks, Valerius and Kaldor remained expressionless, merely nodding slightly again. Moreno, who was receiving treatment, slowly opened his eyes. His normally piercingly cold eyes were now somewhat dim from psychic overexertion, but the will within them remained like steel.
He looked at Calgar and replied in his characteristic, rigid and unruffled tone: "Chapter Master. To fight Chaos, to purge the heretic, is our sole reason for existence, our duty. No thanks are needed. Any Imperial force falling into the hands of Chaos is unacceptable to us."
It was still the same formulaic rhetoric, attributing everything to "duty," as if emotion and gratitude were superfluous.
Calgar looked at his indifferent face, knowing that further words would be futile. The Grey Knights' worldview was completely different from theirs; they were pure instruments born to fight Chaos, and emotion might be a burden to them.
He nodded, said no more, only: "May you all recover soon." Then he turned and left the oppressive medical bay.
Leaving the Grey Knights' medical area, Calgar's steps involuntarily led him once again to the outside of the intensive care unit where Dorian was. He looked through the observation window at the big fellow who was still unconscious inside.
This was not the first time he had seen Dorian here. This reckless, impulsive, show-off, incorrigible fellow, who gave him and Golden endless headaches, was practically a regular in the medical bay. In every mission, he seemed to always find some perilous way to get himself half-killed and then brought back.
But...
A hint of imperceptible softness and... pride flashed in Calgar's eyes.
It was precisely such a fellow, seemingly full of flaws, who possessed the purest bravery and the most unquestionable loyalty. Facing a Nurgle Plague Marine that far surpassed him in size, strength, and regenerative ability, what kind of courage and determination did that require? It was not merely confidence in his own strength, but a spirit of sacrifice, putting life and death aside, willing to descend into hell to protect his comrades.
The frontiers of Ultramar, and indeed the entire crumbling Imperium of Man, were painstakingly defended by countless ordinary warriors like Dorian—perhaps with this flaw or that, but always trustworthy and always able to step forward in crucial moments—with their blood, courage, and loyalty. They were the true bedrock of the Imperium.
He once again took a deep look at Dorian's sleeping face, as if to remember the warrior's appearance, then slowly turned away.
At this moment, the Chapter Master, who bore the heavy responsibility of all Ultramar and even the Imperium, seemed to carry a heavy burden on his back. Every time he saw a warrior sacrificed or severely wounded, his heart bled. They were all his sons, whom he personally sent to the battlefield, yet he could not guarantee that they would all return safely.
And now, as the warriors fought valiantly on the front lines, even the most basic and accurate intelligence support could not be guaranteed. The tragedy of "Mona Lisa" must never be repeated. Internal hidden dangers must be rooted out. This heavy burden once again fell upon his shoulders.
He recalled the Primarch Roboute Guilliman's entrustment to him at the time: "Marius, Ultramar... must not fall into chaos. It is the most important fortress of the Imperium of Man today, a beacon of hope. Protect it, no matter how difficult."
He took a deep breath, suppressed all his emotions, and once again became the calm, authoritative, and omnipotent Chapter Master. He set off with firm strides towards his office. There, mountains of political affairs, reports, and strategic deployments awaited his attention. As the cornerstone of the Imperium, he did not have much time to indulge in personal emotions; he had to move forward for the sake of many more people.
----
Two months passed quietly amidst the battleship's daily operations and the warriors' rest.
For Captain Cassius, these two months were filled with an invisible pressure and an undercurrent of tension.
The Chapter Master's personal, top-secret directive regarding the internal intelligence system review weighed heavily on his mind like a massive stone.
He mobilized his most trusted confidantes and, under various pretexts such as routine security checks, data backup verification, and personnel rotation, thoroughly scrutinized almost every department and individual involved in intelligence reception, analysis, and transmission.
However, the results were surprising, even... unsettling.
All personnel who had handled intelligence from Gloom IV and 'Mona Lisa' Star had clean backgrounds, no anomalies in loyalty tests, and followed standard operating procedures, showing no obvious signs of dereliction of duty or betrayal.
Their memory fragments also indicated that they genuinely believed the intelligence to be credible at the time.
System logs showed no signs of tampering, and encrypted communication channels had not been compromised.
Everything seemed... too normal.
Almost perfectly normal.
But it was precisely this 'perfection' that caused Captain Cassius's doubts to rise rather than diminish.
With his extensive experience and Astartes intuition, such severe and continuous intelligence failures could not possibly be without reason.
If there were no internal issues, then the problem must lie externally, at the source of the intelligence or during its transmission.
He summoned the warriors responsible for technical reconnaissance and issued new instructions: "Focus on two nodes: First, when the intelligence was initially sent from the target planet, was it possibly intercepted and modified by some force? Second, during the transmission of the intelligence to our strike cruiser, was it intercepted or tampered with? I need the most detailed technical analysis report!"
The warriors departed to carry out the order, utilizing the battleship's powerful detection and computational arrays to conduct a retrospective analysis of all relevant information streams over the past period.
After several more weeks of intense work, the technical report was finally presented to Cassius.
The report indicated that the characteristics of the intelligence signal's source were complex, severely affected by the local environment (the Necron barrier of 'Mona Lisa' Star) and Warp fluctuations, making it difficult to determine its original state with 100% certainty.
And during transmission, although the highest level of Imperial encryption was used, the report also noted that at certain critical points in the intelligence transfer, extremely faint, untraceable, non-natural Warp ripples were detected.
These fluctuations did not fully match known Chaos energy signatures or psychic usage patterns; their nature was more akin to... a highly precise, information-level 'interference' or 'overlay'.
Upon seeing this report, Captain Cassius's heart sank.
No internal issues precisely meant that the problem was larger, more insidious, and more terrifying!
He immediately took all the investigation results and the technical report to urgently request an audience with the Chapter Master.
In the Chapter Master's office, Cassius reported his investigation process and conclusions in detail.
..."In summary, Chapter Master, I am almost certain that the problem is not internal to us, but rather some... extremely bizarre and powerful entity from the outside has precisely modified or distorted key intelligence in a way we currently cannot comprehend."
Cassius's tone was more solemn than ever.
Chapter Master Marius Calgar listened quietly, his fingers unconsciously tapping on the desk, his brow deeply furrowed.
Cassius took a deep breath and continued, "Furthermore, I compared and analyzed the two incidents at Gloom IV and 'Mona Lisa' Star and found three astonishing commonalities."
"First, in the initial stages of both missions, the intelligence we received indicated that the target planets had only 'minor' or 'suspected' Chaos corruption, leading us to deploy forces that, while elite, were not at the highest level of alert, thus falling into an extremely passive situation when encountering true-scale Chaos forces."
"Second, both planets saw the appearance of powerful Greater Daemon-level daemons, but our preliminary reconnaissance and intelligence systems provided no warning, as if they had 'appeared' out of thin air."
"Third..." Cassius paused, his gaze sharp as he looked at the Chapter Master, and slowly said, "In both of these missions, Horn Brother Gaius... was among the teams participating."
A deathly silence fell over the office.
Cassius lowered his voice and voiced the chilling suspicion: "Chapter Master, I suspect... could it be that behind all of this, the Lord of Change Tzeentch, the Master of Deceit and Trickery, is at work? His power is related to knowledge, fate, and conspiracy; modifying information and orchestrating events are his most skilled tactics!
His target... could it be Gaius?"
The Chapter Master listened to this series of analyses and speculations and remained silent for a long time.
The immense amount of information required time to process, and the conclusion sent shivers down his spine.
He recalled the power of Tzeentch within Gaius, which had been dormant for seven years.
He had to admit that Cassius's conjecture had a high probability.
"But..." the Chapter Master slowly began, his voice a little dry, "Gaius has indeed shown no signs of corruption for the past seven years, and in fact... he seems to have been resisting that power.
What if... the Lord of Change has given up on him? Or, is this just a coincidence?"
"It could also be a latent state," Cassius calmly retorted.
"Tzeentch's schemes often span time and space, with deep-laid plans.
He might be waiting for the optimal moment, a moment that could drive Gaius to utter despair, to complete his fall... for example, by repeatedly throwing him into almost certain death, making him witness the gruesome deaths of his comrades, and finally, when his mental defenses collapse, appearing as a 'savior'..."
This conjecture was reasonable and perfectly explained why the intelligence always precisely led Gaius's squad into the most dangerous abyss.
The Chapter Master's expression became extremely grim.
He took a deep breath and reiterated his previous principle: "Even so... we cannot act against a warrior whose loyalty has not been proven to be extinguished, who has not shown submission to Chaos.
Ultramarines cannot; this is a principle."
But he also understood that if Tzeentch was truly manipulating events from behind the scenes, then conventional surveillance and internal reviews would be meaningless.
He pondered for a long time and finally made a decision: "Professional matters are handled by professionals.
Inform Captain Moreno that I authorize the Grey Knights to conduct... closer observation and assessment of Gaius.
But only observation! They must not appear within Gaius's sight, nor engage in any form of contact or provocation, unless there is conclusive evidence that he has completely fallen.
Observation will continue until... Gaius is cleared of suspicion, or we find the truth."
This was the only reliable method for now.
Utilizing the Grey Knights' superior psychic sensitivity to Chaos forces to monitor any subtle interferences from Tzeentch that might exist around Gaius.
"Yes, Chapter Master."
Cassius saluted and acknowledged the order.
He knew this might be the best course of action under the current circumstances.
Meanwhile, outside the Second Squad's lounge, the atmosphere was much more relaxed.
After two months of recuperation and advanced medical treatment, Luna had largely recovered.
She had donned her new Tech-Sergeant uniform, her bionic eyes glowing steadily, and although her face was still a bit pale, she had regained her usual calm and focus.
Dorian, however, appeared somewhat 'miserable'.
His massive body still required the aid of mechanical supports to walk, his movements stiff and slow, far from his usual vigorous self.
But this did not deter his enthusiasm for boasting.
He was sitting on a specially made metal bench outside the lounge, gesturing wildly and spitting as he recounted to Lina and Eilaas, who were gathered around him: "...That Plague Marine was two heads taller than me!
One swing of his hammer and the ground shook!
But who am I? I am..."
Just as he was in full swing, Eilaas, looking at his current 'weak' state and recalling her previous 'glorious achievements' of punching Grey Knights and Honour Guard warriors in the stomach, her eyes darted around, sensing an opportunity!
As Dorian paused, parched from talking, to catch his breath, Eilaas suddenly let out a sharp cry: "Take that!"
Then, mustering all her strength, she delivered a straight punch squarely to Dorian's stomach, which was still heavily bandaged!
Thud!
A dull thud.
Dorian's voice abruptly stopped.
He looked down at Eilaas's small fist, which had struck his stomach without even making a dent in the bandage, then looked up at Eilaas's small face, flushed red from exertion and now filled with disbelief.
The scene was utterly silent.
After several seconds, Dorian finally spoke in a muffled, somewhat amused and helpless tone: "...Little Eilaas... are you... tickling me?"
The outcome, as one might imagine.
Even with severe injuries unhealed, and even without power armor, the physical disparity between an Astartes and a non-supernaturally empowered individual remained an insurmountable chasm.
Eilaas clutched her throbbing fist, on the verge of tears.
Lina and Luna, on the other hand, couldn't help but burst into laughter.
Outside the lounge, a relaxed atmosphere temporarily resonated, a stark contrast to the heavy decisions being made by the battleship's high command.
And unbeknownst to anyone, the invisible eye of observation had once again quietly fallen.
Gaius's life seemed to return to normal.
Training, vigilance, and maintaining his beloved 'Hawkeye' sniper rifle.
His skills became increasingly refined; precise long-range kills, stealth infiltration in complex environments, and acute situational awareness on the battlefield had made him the recognized 'champion' sniper of the 7th Company, and even the entire Chapter—an unofficial but highly respected title.
However, in recent days, an extremely subtle yet undeniable sense of unease, like a parasitic growth, once again clung to him.
It was the feeling of being deliberately watched.
Not from the occasional glances or admiring looks of his comrades, but a... cold, scrutinizing gaze, as if trying to pierce his very soul.
This gaze precisely locked onto him from among countless busy warriors, ubiquitous yet untraceable.
He was all too familiar with this feeling.
Eight years ago, after the Gloom IV incident, it was this pervasive sense of surveillance, accompanied by those three silver-armored giants, that had filled his life for several years.
Grey Knights.
They were back.
Gaius's heart sank slightly.
Despite his diligent service and numerous battle honors over the past seven years, and the silent dormancy of the power within him, it was clear that certain suspicions had never truly dissipated.
Especially after the strange intelligence incident at 'Mona Lisa' Star, this surveillance seemed to have become even more... urgent.
He took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the ripple of unease that had risen in his heart.
He maintained his daily routine, sweating profusely on the training ground, proving himself with one perfect shooting score after another.
He could not see the observers hidden in the shadows, but he knew they could see him.
"Look, watch all you want," Gaius thought coldly to himself, his sniper rifle steadily aimed at a high-speed moving target a thousand meters away, "Everything about me is open and selfless to the Emperor."
As Gaius trained diligently on the firing range, and three Grey Knights, like ghosts, silently observed from the shadows, utilizing the battleship's complex structure and psychic cloaking technology, no one noticed that from a higher, more concealed, narrow passage opening used for ventilation and pipeline maintenance, another pair of eyes, with a playful and mocking gaze, overlooked everything.
It was a raven.
A raven whose feathers were an eerie blue-black, as if woven from solidified midnight and twisted starlight.
It stood silently on a cold metal pipe, its six eyes, gleaming with intelligence and malice like miniature stars, unblinkingly watching Gaius below, occasionally glancing at the Grey Knights who believed themselves to be well-hidden.
In its eyes, those three Grey Knights, radiating pure psychic silver light and considered by the Imperium to be its sharpest blade against Chaos, were nothing more than 'buffoons' with decent power but narrow vision, bound by their own dogma.
Their pathetic psychic detection skills were child's play before it.
It was the Daemon Prince of Change, a powerful Daemon Prince under Tzeentch, a master of knowledge and stratagem.
It was here on the Lord of Change's command, lurking to execute a long and intricate scheme.
It was exceptionally well hidden.
Even within the core areas of the 'Macragge's Honour', a battleship filled with Imperial faith, covered in sensors, and even garrisoned by Grey Knights, it did not leak a single trace of Chaos aura.
Its very existence was the greatest mockery of the Imperial defense system.
Sometimes, to satisfy its mischievous and taunting nature, it would even use its shapeshifting abilities to transform into a low-ranking, inconspicuous tech-servitor or servitor.
When Captain Moreno passed by with Valerius and Kaldor in the corridor, it would, like others, respectfully kneel by the wayside, even softly reciting prayers to the Emperor in the most humble tone.
And those three Grey Knights, whose mission was to discern Chaos, each time passed by it like true statues, their psychic senses completely failing to detect anything unusual in this 'pious' servitor.
This feeling of wantonly disguising itself right under the enemy's nose, with the enemy completely unaware, filled the Daemon Prince of Change with immense pleasure and satisfaction.
Chaos observers and destroyers?
In its view, they were merely pathetic fools being played with.
The Imperium's sharpest sword?
Yet it couldn't even see the shadows beside its own blade.
Its gaze once again focused on Gaius, complex light swirling in its six eyes.
In its head, which could glimpse countless future possibilities, the visions it saw were entirely different from what the Grey Knights feared and what Gaius steadfastly maintained.
What it saw was not a loyal warrior struggling against Chaos corruption.
What it saw was the ultimate arrival of Gaius, the Chaos Prince, bathed in violet light, wielding the threads of fate, at the pinnacle of both knowledge and power.
He would eventually comprehend the great changing principle, discard the Emperor's false lies and shackles, and willingly submit at the feet of the Lord of Change, becoming a chosen son bestowed with supreme wisdom and power!
This was the true meaning of its lurking here.
Not merely to observe, but to guide, to ensure that among the countless possible futures, the one most aligned with its Master's will would become reality.
And everyone, including those Grey Knights who prided themselves on seeing all, was completely unaware.
The subtle modification of the 'Mona Lisa' Star intelligence, which led the Ultramarines and Gaius into Nurgle's trap, was not some internal spy, nor simple Warp interference.
It was precisely it, this lurking Daemon Prince of Change, using its control over information and fate, at a critical node in the intelligence transmission, that casually erased "confirmed presence of large-scale Nurgle corruption" and replaced it with "suspected minor Chaos infiltration," as easily as modifying text on a page.
It deeply understood the subtle relationship between Nurgle and Tzeentch.
This ingenious 'killing with a borrowed knife' not only severely struck Imperial forces and depleted Nurgle's strength, but also placed Gaius in extreme danger and despair, perfectly turning the wheel of fate one notch in the direction its Master desired.
A silent game of chess around Gaius, spanning reality and the Warp, had already begun without anyone's knowledge.
And one of the chess masters was hidden in the brightest place, mockingly watching all the other pieces on the board.