The vast fleet, like giant blue whales returning home, slowly sailed into the Macragge system, finally docking steadily at the magnificent orbital spaceport of Fortress Hera. This colossal fortress, which had weathered tens of thousands of years, witnessing countless glories and sacrifices, now seemed to radiate new brilliance with the return of its true master.
The spaceport and the vast area connecting to the ground below had been meticulously arranged. Giant Imperial Aquila banners and Ultramarines Chapter banners fluttered in the wind, Honour Guards stood solemnly on both sides, and a military band played the majestic and stirring "Macragge March" and "Hymn of the Emperor."
Apart from the necessary orbital defense and fleet watch personnel, almost all Ultramarines who participated in the Cadia Gate campaign, led by Primarch Roboute Guilliman and Chapter Master Marius Calgar, descended onto their homeworld in Thunderhawk Gunships and transport ships, in batches.
When Guilliman's imposing figure was the first to step out of the transport bay and onto the unique, shimmering blue rock surface of Macragge, the entire welcoming scene erupted in deafening, almost frenzied cheers!
"Lord Guilliman! Lord Guilliman! Lord Guilliman!"
"For the Emperor! For Macragge!"
The sound swept in like a tsunami, converging into a torrent of emotion. On both sides of the road, the citizens of Macragge, who had been waiting for a long time, regardless of gender, age, or youth, were so excited that tears welled up in their eyes. They vigorously waved the small flags and flowers in their hands, trying to get a clearer look at their legendary guardian, the Emperor's own son, the Regent of Ultramar, the great Primarch!
Following closely behind were Chapter Master Calgar, Captain Cassius of the 1st Company, Captain Sicarius of the 2nd Company, Captain Hek Hansen of the 3rd Company... All the famous Captains appeared in sequence. Their majestic figures and battle-hardened armor drew wave after wave of cheers and reverence.
Behind them were the ordinary Ultramarines warriors. They marched in neat formations with steady steps. Although many still bore unhealed scars, their eyes were sharp, and their posture was upright. They were the staunch shields of Ultramar, the protectors of its people, enjoying the glory they deserved.
Following this mighty procession was a medical convoy. Severely wounded soldiers lay on hovering medical beds, being carefully transported.
Dorian and Draculas, two of the severely wounded, refused to lie down completely. Instead, they supported each other, relying on powered braces, stubbornly standing on an open-top medical transport vehicle. Dorian's highly polished laurel wreath gleamed under the Macragge sun. He tried to puff out his chest and wave to the crowd, even though every movement pulled at his wounds, making him grimace, yet he still enjoyed it. Draculas was much more silent, his white helmet turning slightly, scanning the familiar homeland and the cheering crowd. Behind his cold visors, there seemed to be a subtle, almost imperceptible fluctuation.
Luna sat in another vehicle, her injuries not allowing her to stand for long. Ailas sat closely beside her, her small hand held by Luna's cold mechanical hand. Had this Dark Eldar girl ever seen such a grand and genuinely emotional scene? She didn't instinctively search for shadows to hide in, as she would in Commorragh. Instead, she widened her emerald eyes, watching the vast, surging crowd around her with curiosity and slight tension, observing the pure joy and reverence on their faces, and seeing countless flowers showered down like rain, landing on their vehicle and on them.
"For the Ultramarines!"
"Thank you! Angels of the Imperium!"
"May the Emperor protect you!"
The cheers of the populace were incessant, and flowers carpeted the path ahead. Here, there was no suffocating religious fanaticism as rigid as Holy Terra, nor the despair of other Hive Cities struggling in oppression and poverty. Under Guilliman's governance blueprint, Macragge and even the entire Five Hundred Worlds of Ultramar presented an efficient, orderly, prosperous, and hopeful appearance.
The people were prosperous and content, for they knew that their labor and taxes transformed into a solid force guarding their homeland; factories stood numerous and operated efficiently, continuously providing the Ultramarines Chapter and the Imperial Army with the finest equipment; schools and educational institutions were widespread, cultivating the next generation of engineers, officials, and... potential Astartes recruits.
Every Ultramarine, no matter which world of Ultramar he came from, must have undergone the most rigorous and systematic recruit training and initial modification surgeries on Macragge, completing the transformation from mortal to Angel here, passing the final assessment, and swearing allegiance here. This was the starting point of their military career and their spiritual home.
Returning to this place, for these warriors who had just returned from a sea of blood and corpses, was not just a rest but also a cleansing and reshaping of the soul. The familiar scent in the air, the solid ground beneath their feet, and the unreserved love of their compatriots silently healed the wounds of war.
The warriors looked at the cheering crowd, enjoying this brief but incredibly precious moment of glory. Their taut nerves gradually relaxed, and their cold battle intent melted into human warmth. Many warriors' eyes also became moist. They waved their arms, saluting the crowd, or pounded their chest armor with their fists, responding to the enthusiasm of their compatriots. This was all they protected.
The grand welcome parade lasted for a long time, and the procession finally arrived at the immensely grand Hymn Plaza at the foot of Fortress Hera. Here, Guilliman, Chapter Master Calgar, and all the Captains, escorted by a squad of golden-armored Honour Guard and Guilliman's Victrix Guard, held a formal and solemn meeting with the high-ranking officials of the Macragge planetary government and the governors and representatives of other major worlds of Ultramar who had been waiting there.
This was a highly political ceremony, yet it was not mere pretense. Guilliman listened carefully to the reports from various representatives regarding post-war recovery, production status, and troop recruitment, and gave concise instructions. He affirmed the support of the local governments for the front line during the war and emphasized the importance of Ultramar as a stable cornerstone of the Imperium. His every word was clear and powerful, containing immense authority and wisdom, making every representative wholeheartedly convinced.
Chapter Master Calgar, on the other hand, focused more on the military aspect, discussing specific matters with the representatives regarding subsequent equipment supply, new recruit recruitment, and pensions for fallen soldiers.
This meeting announced to all of Ultramar and even the Imperium: the great Primarch had returned and would once again personally wield authority over this star sector, leading them to face any future challenges.
While the high-ranking officials were holding talks concerning the future of the star sector, the ordinary warriors began to disperse in an orderly fashion, returning to their barracks within Fortress Hera or heading to the medical wing for further examination and treatment.
Dorian and Draculas were finally "escorted" by the Apothecary back to the highest-level medical room, ordered to remain in bed rest. Luna also took Ailas back to the resting area assigned to the Tech-Sergeant. She needed to quickly familiarize herself with Macragge's workshop facilities to begin repairing her own and her comrades' equipment.
Ailas curiously looked around Luna's room—simple, efficient, everything in order, filled with technical tools and a faint smell of machine oil. It was a bit different from what she imagined, but she felt it suited Luna's style.
"Luna, is this where you used to live?" Ailas asked.
"It's the standard dormitory for a Tech-Sergeant after recruit training," Luna replied while inspecting the damage to her servo-arm. "Fortress Hera is very large, with dedicated living areas, training areas, workshop areas, archives... You'll get used to it over time."
"Oh..." Ailas nodded, half-understanding, then asked softly, "Then... can I go see Gaius?"
Luna's hand movements paused, and she shook her head: "Lord Guilliman has decreed that Gaius's medical room is now a highest-clearance area. No one is allowed near it without permission."
Ailas's small face immediately fell, and she nervously twisted her fingers.
Luna glanced at her and added: "Apothecary Vorlak is personally in charge. He is the Chapter's best physician. Gaius will be fine."
This statement was less for Ailas and more to reassure herself.
Night gradually fell over Macragge, but Fortress Hera and even the entire city remained brightly lit, filled with a celebratory atmosphere.
Meanwhile, in the deepest part of the Macragge's Honour, in that special medical room, Gaius remained in a deep slumber. The cheers and clamor from outside seemed not to penetrate this tranquil space in the slightest.
Apothecary Vorlak had just completed another meticulous examination. Data showed that Gaius's bodily functions were recovering very well, even faster than expected. But the dormancy of his soul still left them at a loss.
He sighed, packed up his instruments, and quietly nodded to the Victrix Guard standing like a statue at the door, then silently exited the room.
Inside the room, only the regular ticking of instruments and Gaius's steady yet profound breathing remained.
In the deepest, untouchable reaches of his consciousness, the traces left by the brutal war with Chaos were slowly healing. The afterglow of the Emperor's divine light, like warm spring water, nourished his nearly parched soul essence, gradually pushing back and purifying the coldness and distortion brought by the Mark of Tzeentch.
Perhaps, only when his soul was strong enough to once again wield that latent power, or to completely expel it, would he awaken from this long slumber to face the destined future, full of unknowns and challenges.
Beneath the revelry of a glorious homecoming, undercurrents still stirred. But for the vast majority of Ultramarines and citizens of Macragge, tonight was a night for celebration and peaceful sleep. The home they protected was still intact, and their fathers and brothers had returned. That was enough.
The next day, Macragge welcomed a clear morning. The stellar light shone upon Fortress Hera's magnificent blue alloy and rock structures, refracting a delightful glow. After a grand welcoming ceremony, the warriors were granted a brief, rare period of free time.
Many warriors chose to visit the Fortress's various training grounds to stay sharp, or to the archives for reading and contemplation. Many were also permitted to leave the Fortress and go to the city below, to experience the long-lost, mortal hustle and bustle.
In a wide corridor connecting the living quarters and the training area, Lieutenant Golden was walking slowly with Dorian, Luna, and Ailas. Dorian was still wearing his bulky medical brace, but he was in high spirits, loudly complaining that the Apothecary wouldn't let him go to the gladiatorial arena to stretch his limbs.
Luna quietly followed beside him, her auxiliary brace lighter, allowing her limited operation of a data-slate to check workshop scheduling information. Ailas, like a curious kitten, looked left and right, full of interest in everything inside the Fortress.
Just then, a squad of agile warriors with gleaming armor walked from the opposite direction. The one leading them, with a steady demeanor like a mountain and the confident stride of a battle-hardened veteran, was indeed Titus, the 2nd Company's Lieutenant.
When Brother Draculus saw Titus, his always ramrod-straight body seemed to stiffen even further. Then, to the somewhat surprised gazes of everyone, this taciturn, even somewhat aloof veteran returned from Deathwatch, actually stepped forward and rendered an extremely standard, even slightly respectful Aquila salute to Titus.
"Lieutenant Titus," Brother Draculus's voice came through his helmet, still cold, but with an almost imperceptible… warmth.
Titus stopped, a gentle smile appearing on his weathered face, and he returned the salute: "Brother Draculus. I'm glad to see you survived the fierce battle at the Cadia Gate." His gaze swept over Brother Draculus's injured leg and the First Squad members beside him, "It seems you all have been through a lot."
Lieutenant Golden immediately stepped forward, saluting and greeting Titus. Dorian also reined in some of his boisterousness, curiously sizing up this legendary figure. Luna nodded slightly in greeting.
Ailas quietly asked Luna: "Lady Luna, is this Lieutenant also very powerful?"
Luna whispered in reply: "Lieutenant Titus, former 2nd Company Captain, like Brother Draculus, served in the Deathwatch, achieving outstanding merits and is a living legend. He later returned to the Chapter as Lieutenant, assisting Captain Sicarius."
Ailas understood imperfectly, but the words "Deathwatch," "former Captain," and "living legend" made her realize that the warrior before her was undoubtedly a remarkable figure.
Titus obviously knew Golden and Dorian too, exchanging a few brief pleasantries and inquiring about their injury recovery. His gaze lingered particularly on the laurel wreath on Dorian's head for a moment, a hint of admiration flashing in his eyes.
"Brother Catonia, I heard about your valiant feat on Vellan II, well done, you are worthy of this honor."
Dorian, for once, became a little embarrassed, scratching his head: "Hehe, thank you, Lieutenant! It was mainly Primarch's favor…"
Titus smiled, then looked at Brother Draculus: "It seems we old guys who returned from the 'Long Night' (referring to the Deathwatch) are all quite lucky."
Brother Draculus merely nodded heavily, everything conveyed without words. Between the two veterans who had retired from the Deathwatch, there was a tacit understanding and camaraderie that ordinary people could not comprehend.
After a brief exchange, both parties departed. But this encounter seemed to melt a trace of the cold barrier around Brother Draculus. And Dorian and his companions also got to experience the demeanor of another Chapter legend up close.
Meanwhile, on the top floor of Fortress Hera, within the Primarch's private palace.
Roboute Guilliman dismissed his attendants, standing alone on the incredibly ornate balcony with an excellent view. From here, he could overlook a large part of Macragge's capital city—Nuceria.
The uniformly planned layout, efficiently operating factories, busy and orderly spaceport, and the endless, meticulously cultivated farmlands and azure ocean in the distance, together formed a picture of prosperity, strength, and hope.
A gentle breeze ruffled his unhelmeted golden hair, carrying the faint sounds of laughter from the distant city, and closer by, the sounds of conversation and training from the Ultramarines enjoying their brief respite within the Fortress.
All of this was both familiar and strange.
He could no longer remember how many years it had been since he had stood here, quietly and truly, looking at his world, his people. The long slumber, followed by endless wars, political struggles, and the suffocating burden of rebuilding the Imperium...
Holy Terra was indeed the heart of the Imperium, but there was only endless intrigue, corrupt bureaucracy, and a fanatical religious atmosphere that left one breathless.
Only here, Macragge, was his true home. Everything here embodied his ideals and efforts.
He couldn't help but think of the woman who had raised him, taught him, and profoundly influenced him in his youth—Lady Tarasha Euten. The strong, wise, and loyal Governor of Macragge, his adoptive mother and mentor. If she could see Macragge today, she would surely be pleased... Alas, time is merciless, and she had long since turned to dust.
A deep sense of nostalgia and a faint melancholy welled up in his heart.
"It has been... I don't know how many years since I've looked at this place like this," Guilliman murmured softly, as if speaking to the air, "I miss it here, I miss Lady Tarasha…"
Beside him, the Victrix Captain, standing like a golden statue, remained silent, only the extremely faint hum of his armor's servo-systems audible.
Guilliman waited for a while, receiving no response, and couldn't help but feel a touch of helplessness. He turned his head to look at the loyal but taciturn guard: "Sometimes I truly wonder and am curious, why are my Victrix Guard warriors so sparing with their words?"
The Victrix Captain's helmet moved slightly, seemingly looking at the Primarch through his eye-lenses, but still… remained silent.
Guilliman shook his head, turning his gaze back to the distance. That brief moment of warmth and relaxation was quickly replaced by heavy reality. As a Primarch, as Regent, he did not have much time to dwell on the past.
Gaius's image appeared in his mind. The slumbering Sergeant, the hidden danger he carried, was far more important than the outcome of a battle.
He pondered for a long time, his gaze gradually becoming sharp and resolute. He turned and walked towards the communicator.
"Send word, have Chapter Master Marius Calgar come to see me immediately."
Soon after, Chapter Master Calgar strode into the palace and saluted Guilliman.
"Primarch, you sent for me?"
"Marius," Guilliman said directly, his tone grave, "Regarding Sergeant Gaius, I have made a decision."
Calgar's expression tightened, listening intently.
"To my knowledge, Tzeentch will not give him up easily," Guilliman said slowly, his gaze seemingly piercing through the walls to see the slumbering figure in the medical bay, "Gaius has already endured at least eight direct or indirect hardships and temptations from Tzeentch or his creations. From the Grey Knights' rotating surveillance over thirty years ago, to Karlos's snatching, Brust's strange whispers, and now the psychic battle before the Cadia Gate…"
He paused, his voice becoming even deeper: "That Chaos God, skilled in manipulating schemes and fate, has a pathological obsession with the number 'nine.' I suspect that the previous eight times, regardless of success or failure, may have been a prelude, preparation and accumulation for the final, most decisive 'ninth' manifestation. At that time, its power and cunning will far exceed all previous attempts."
Calgar's face became incredibly serious: "You mean…"
"While Macragge is good, its defenses are primarily against physical threats. For this kind of deeply rooted Chaos corruption, especially when it involves the direct attention of a Chaos God, we lack sufficiently effective countermeasures," Guilliman made his decision, "I have decided to temporarily take him to Holy Terra."
"Holy Terra?" Calgar was slightly startled.
"Yes," Guilliman nodded, "There, at the heart of the Imperium, perhaps we can find a way to completely resolve the problem. I will personally arrange to request the intervention of the Grey Knights Chapter, to employ their deepest, most forbidden knowledge and power, and attempt to completely cleanse the Mark of the Changer from his body."
The Grey Knights Chapter! The Inquisition! Calgar's heart trembled. That was an organization even more mysterious, more extreme than the Inquisition, specializing in dealing with daemon-related incidents. Their methods were often drastic and dangerous, but perhaps, only they had the ability to handle corruption involving a Chaos God himself.
This was undoubtedly a huge gamble. But facing Tzeentch's unfathomable schemes, perhaps only by utilizing the Imperium's most extreme forces could there be a glimmer of hope.
"I understand, Primarch," Calgar nodded heavily, "I will immediately arrange the relevant matters and ensure secrecy."
"Go," Guilliman waved his hand, "Before we leave, let no word leak out."
Calgar acknowledged the order and quickly departed.
On the balcony, only Guilliman and the silent Victrix Captain remained once more.
Guilliman looked at Macragge's sky, his gaze profound. Taking Gaius to Terra, the future was uncertain. But for the future of this loyal son, for the stability of the Chapter, and for the Imperium not to be threatened by that terrible variable, he had to take this risk.
When and how will the ninth trial descend? No one knew. But they had to be prepared.
Deep within Fortress Hera, in an antechamber of the Primarch's Palace, the atmosphere was solemn and grave. Dorian, Luna, Draculas, and Lieutenant Golden stood at attention, their hearts stirred by the news they had just heard from the Primarch.
Roboute Guilliman's gaze slowly swept over the warriors before him—they were Gaius's closest comrades, brothers who had endured countless trials of life and death and could be absolutely trusted.
"The threat Gaius faces is far from ordinary," Guilliman's voice was deep and clear, every word carrying immense weight. "Tzeentch's whispers and corruption are deeply rooted in his soul, difficult to eradicate with conventional methods, and may even backfire. The next trial may be unprecedentedly perilous."
His gaze became exceedingly sharp: "I need to build a strong defense around him, not just physically, but spiritually. A shield forged from absolute loyalty and unbreakable brotherhood."
"Therefore, I have decided," Guilliman announced, "that in fifteen days, when I return to Holy Terra, you four—Golden, Dorian, Luna, Draculas—will accompany Gaius as his guards and anchors."
This news startled the four. To go to Holy Terra? That was the heart of the Imperium, the ultimate destination for billions of pilgrims, the location of the Emperor's Holy Throne! This was the highest honor for any citizen of the Imperium. But what weighed more heavily on them was the responsibility implied in the Primarch's words.
"You are his most trusted brothers; your very presence is the strongest force to counter Tzeentch's psychological ploys and awaken his true consciousness," Guilliman continued. "Lieutenant Golden, your position as Lieutenant will be temporarily filled by other warriors during this period, and you will return to your post upon completion of the mission."
Lieutenant Golden immediately stepped forward, his injured arm still in a brace, but his posture was as straight as a pine. He glanced at Luna and Dorian beside him, then, representing them all, responded with the firmest voice:
"We obey your command, Primarch! It is our honor to fight alongside our brother Gaius! We will devote all our strength to protect his soul and will never fail your trust and expectations! Ultramarines, fearless!"
His words were resolute, representing the determination of everyone. Dorian tried to puff out his chest to look mighty but almost pulled his wound, wincing in pain, yet his gaze was equally firm. Luna nodded slightly, unwavering loyalty shining in her cold eyes. Draculas expressed his attitude with a heavy chest thump.
"Very good." Guilliman nodded in satisfaction. "Go prepare. This mission is top secret and must not be revealed to anyone."
After saluting, the four respectfully exited the antechamber.
Soon after they left, Chapter Master Marius Calgar appeared at the doorway, accompanied by a slender figure with swollen, tear-stained eyes, sniffling—it was Ailas.
Ailas, unable to find Luna and Dorian, who had been secretly summoned, became anxious, fearing being left alone, and began to cry sadly in a corner of the corridor. She was discovered by a patrol of Victrix Guard, and after their inquiries yielded no results, they had no choice but to bring her to the Chapter Master.
Chapter Master Calgar looked at the tearful Dark Eldar girl, feeling a headache, yet also a touch of softness. He roughly guessed the reason. After detailed questioning and confirming that she was merely scared and worried, a thought flashed through his mind.
He took Ailas's hand and sought an audience with the Primarch again.
"Primarch," Chapter Master Calgar said after saluting, briefly explaining the situation, "Tech-Sergeant Ailas has a deep bond with Sergeant Karl. Her inability to find Tech-Sergeant Luna and the others has caused her great anxiety and fear. Considering her special connection with Gaius and her extraordinary Eldar perception, perhaps... she could play an unexpected role in countering Tzeentch's schemes targeting the soul and emotions. I implore you to consider allowing her to accompany them to Holy Terra."
Guilliman's gaze fell on Ailas. Though the girl had stopped crying, tears still clung to her small face, and her emerald eyes looked at him timidly, her small hand nervously clutching the Chapter Master's huge finger.
A Dark Eldar, going to Holy Terra? This sounded utterly fantastical. Terra's xenophobia and hostility were deeply ingrained. However... Chapter Master Calgar's suggestion was not without merit. Tzeentch's plots often targeted the softest parts of the human heart, and the pure trust and bond between Ailas and Gaius might indeed be an unexpected card.
After a moment of silence, Guilliman slowly spoke: "Very well."
Ailas could hardly believe her ears. She sharply looked up, her small mouth slightly agape, forgetting to cry. Go... to Holy Terra? That place she had only heard of in legends, the most sacred, most central, most mysterious place in the Imperium of Man? Her? A Dark Eldar?
After the immense shock came an indescribable excitement and thrill! She almost jumped for joy on the spot! She couldn't help but start imagining herself as the first Eldar girl to ever set foot on Holy Terra! How incredible that would be!
But Guilliman's next words, like cold water, dampened some of her excitement.
"Marius," Guilliman looked at the Chapter Master, "you will be responsible for coordinating this matter throughout. Ailas's Tech-Sergeant status must receive the highest level of certification and registration. Upon arrival on Terra, her movements will be strictly restricted."
Then, he looked at Ailas, his tone becoming exceptionally serious: "Child, you must understand, Holy Terra is not like Macragge. It is the core of Imperial faith, and the attitude towards non-human races... is extremely unfriendly. Even with your official Tech-Sergeant status as an Ultramarine, if you leave our protection, your situation will be extremely dangerous. You must stay with Lieutenant Golden at all times, and absolutely never act alone, do you understand?"
Ailas was startled by the Primarch's serious tone and quickly nodded vigorously, her small face tight: "I... I understand! Sir! I will stick close to Lieutenant Golden! I promise not to wander off!"
"Good." Guilliman nodded slightly. "You may withdraw. Marius, take them to the prepared area. During the time before departure, all their movements must be kept secret; they will reside here temporarily and are not to have casual contact with the outside world."
"Especially Dorian." Guilliman added, though Dorian was no longer there, these words would clearly be conveyed through Chapter Master Calgar.
Chapter Master Calgar led Ailas out of the Primarch's Palace, reunited with Golden and the others waiting outside, then brought the five to a specially guarded, extremely secure area within the fortress.
The environment here was far more luxurious and comfortable than ordinary living quarters; the corridors were spacious and bright, and the walls were adorned with exquisite reliefs and Chapter relics. The Victrix Guard Captain was already waiting there, silently leading them to the doors of five adjacent, fully equipped, luxurious rooms.
"For the next fifteen days, this will be your residence," Chapter Master Calgar said. "Not far away are dedicated training grounds, a small armory, and a data room, which can meet your daily needs. For any requirements, you can report to the Victrix Guard or directly to me. Remember the Primarch's words: absolute secrecy, and you must not leave this area without permission."
His gaze lingered especially on Dorian and Ailas: "Dorian, keep yourself in check. Ailas, remember the taboos of Terra."
After giving his instructions, Chapter Master Calgar turned and left.
At this moment, Ailas's attention was completely captivated by the silently standing, Golden-armored Victrix Guard Captain. She looked at the perfectly sculpted, powerful armor, the magnificent yet dignified cape, and especially the cold but seemingly not fierce eye-lenses beneath the imposing helmet, feeling her heart beat a little faster.
"He... he's so handsome..." Ailas couldn't help but whisper to Luna beside her, her eyes almost turning into hearts.
The Victrix Guard Captain seemed to hear her murmur, and his helmet turned slightly towards her. He had already noticed the Eldar girl and was, in fact, full of curiosity. He had been away from the Chapter following the Primarch for so, so long, and he hadn't expected the Chapter to be so open now that even a Dark Eldar could become a Tech-Sergeant? This change truly surprised him.
But he said nothing, merely, out of courtesy, gave Ailas a slight nod, then turned, his magnificent cape sweeping a graceful arc as he silently departed.
It was this small, almost non-responsive nod that instantly made Ailas's cheeks flush, feeling that the Captain was even more handsome and charming!
"Stop mooning." Luna's clear voice interrupted her fantasy. "Pack your things, get familiar with the environment. We have important matters to attend to."
Lieutenant Golden began assigning rooms. Draculas had already walked silently into the one closest to the training ground. Dorian, meanwhile, marveled at the luxuriousness of the room, already contemplating whether the sturdy-looking furniture could be used for exercise.
Over the next few days, they would spend their time in this secluded area, making their final preparations for the journey to the unknown and challenging Holy Terra. Glory and danger coexisted; their mission was far greater than they imagined. And the shadow of Terra was already quietly approaching.
Within the special, isolated area, time seemed to slow and become serene. Apart from necessary rest and meals, everyone found their own ways to pass the waiting period, while also preparing for the upcoming journey to Terra.
In the well-equipped small armory, Luna and Ailas were engrossed in their own world. Luna's servo-arm, after initial repairs, could now perform some delicate operations. She was using the tools and equipment there to meticulously inspect and debug her 'Ailas-type' Power Fist and Gaius's 'Hawkeye' sniper rifle. Ailas, like a little assistant, handed her tools and recorded data, occasionally offering some wild yet sometimes inspiring suggestions. Though quiet, the two worked in perfect sync, and the cold metal and shimmering energy seemed to come alive in their hands.
Meanwhile, in the dedicated training ground not far away, a different scene unfolded.
Lieutenant Golden, Draculas, and Dorian had shed their heavy Power Armor, wearing only black training suits. This revealed the steel-like, bulging muscles developed from years of campaigning, as well as the scars and Power Armor interfaces covering their bodies. Even without the augmentation of armor, their massive physiques, far exceeding ordinary men, and the terrifying power they contained, still exuded an intense sense of oppression.
Golden and Draculas were undergoing rehabilitation training, moving their injured limbs and adjusting to their physical state. Dorian, however, could no longer hold back. He began pounding a heavy training dummy, seemingly wanting to vent all the frustration from days of being bedridden.
A squad of Victrix Guard warriors, responsible for patrolling the area, happened to pass by the entrance of the training ground. Their Golden armor gleamed, and their synchronized steps resembled a moving wall of light. Seeing the three training inside, especially Dorian's display of raw power, they involuntarily slowed their pace slightly, and a hint of professional scrutiny and... faint curiosity seemed to show in their cold gazes.
Golden noticed the Victrix Guard outside the door and stopped his movements. He was a recognized master swordsman, his skill even surpassing many Company Champions. He once lamented how fortunate it would be to have the chance to spar with a Victrix Guard, legendary for their peerless swordsmanship, chosen one in ten thousand. Now, seeing these Primarch's personal guards, his warrior's yearning stirred once more.
Dorian also saw the Victrix Guard. His head heated up, and he stopped pummeling the dummy, bellowing towards the entrance, "Hey, brothers! Just watching is no fun! Come down and spar with our Lieutenant."
His words caused the Victrix Guard warriors at the door to pause, their gazes uniformly focusing on him. Though helmets obscured their faces, the invisible pressure instantly intensified.
Lieutenant Golden inwardly cursed, about to reprimand Dorian for his impudence, when he saw one of the Victrix Guard warriors, after receiving a slight nod of approval from his Captain, step into the training ground.
The Victrix Guard warrior said nothing, simply walked to a nearby weapon rack and took down a training-grade wooden longsword. His movements were fluid and precise, imbued with the confidence of countless hours of practice.
Seeing this, Golden knew his chance had come. He took a deep breath, stepped forward, picked up another wooden sword, and assumed a standard Ultramarines swordsmanship stance. He rotated the shoulder of his injured arm, his eyes sharpening. He knew full well that the Victrix Guard were the Primarch's personal guard, every member an elite chosen from the entire Chapter after countless brutal trials. His chances of victory were extremely slim, but this did not diminish his enjoyment of this rare contest.
"Third Company Lieutenant Golden, I ask for your guidance," Golden said in a deep voice.
The Victrix Guard warrior gave a slight nod, a return of courtesy.
The next moment, the two figures clashed violently!
The crackle of wooden swords instantly resounded through the training ground! Golden's swordsmanship was indeed worthy of its reputation; his footwork was steady, his sword strikes sharp, equally adept at offense and defense, displaying the essence of Ultramarines swordsmanship to its fullest. Every thrust, parry, and slash was a combination of power and technique.
However, his opponent was stronger! The Victrix Guard warrior's movements seemed to be calculated with the utmost precision—concise, efficient, and without any wasted motion. His parries always landed in the most opportune positions, and his counterattacks were like a viper striking from its lair—swift and deadly. He seemed to anticipate Golden's every intention, always a step ahead.
The two exchanged dozens of blows, the clatter of wooden swords incessant. Finally, the Victrix Guard warrior seized upon an extremely subtle hesitation in Golden's movements, caused by an old injury. His wooden sword, like lightning, pierced Golden's guard and lightly touched his chest, over his heart.
Golden's movements instantly ceased. He slowly lowered his wooden sword, a wry smile and genuine admiration on his face: "I lost. Truly worthy of the Victrix Guard, I am impressed."
The Victrix Guard warrior also withdrew his sword and stepped back, nodding slightly, acknowledging the contest.
At this moment, the steady voice of the Victrix Guard Captain, who had been observing from the side, spoke through his helmet: "Your swordsmanship is excellent, Lieutenant. Were it not for your injury, the outcome might have been different." This was extremely high praise.
Golden saluted the Captain: "Thank you for your affirmation, Captain."
Dorian, who had been watching from the side, was already itching for a fight. Seeing Golden defeated, he wasn't discouraged; instead, he grew even more excited. He touched the gleaming laurel wreath on his head, thinking that someone as formidable as he, capable of 'instantly killing' an Executioner, should definitely challenge the strongest! So, he strode forward and directly called out to the Captain.
"Hehe! Captain! Let's have a match!" Dorian's voice was filled with confidence and arrogance.
The training ground fell silent for a moment. Golden covered his forehead, and Draculas also turned slightly towards Dorian, seemingly letting out a silent sigh.
The Victrix Guard Captain's cold eye-lenses turned to Dorian, silent for a few seconds. Just as everyone thought he would refuse, he slowly walked forward and also picked up a training wooden sword from the weapon rack.
Seeing this, Dorian was overjoyed. He also grabbed what looked like the sturdiest wooden sword and haphazardly struck a pose. Even without Power Armor, his massive physique, half a head taller than the Victrix Guard Captain, and his even more exaggerated bulging muscles, still created a powerful visual impact, like a humanoid beast. Compared to him, the Victrix Guard Captain's build appeared more lean and coordinated.
The battle began!
Completely different from Golden's skilled swordsmanship, the sword in Dorian's hand was like a heavy wooden club! He had no technique whatsoever, relying entirely on his terrifying brute strength, swinging his arms in wide arcs and smashing towards the Captain! The wooden sword cut through the air with a terrifying whoosh, as if truly intending to shatter his opponent with a single blow!
This barbaric fighting style, relying purely on strength and speed, was extremely threatening in some ways! The Victrix Guard Captain chose not to meet it head-on, but instead glided sideways like a phantom, easily evading the powerful but straightforward strike.
Dorian's strike missed, and the immense inertia caused his body to pause for a moment. In that flash of lightning—
The Victrix Guard Captain moved! His movements were almost too fast to see! The wooden sword did not parry or clash, but instead, like a nimble snake, it smoothly hooked, guided, and twisted!
Dorian felt a subtle force on his wrist, impossible to resist. His fingers went numb, and the heavy wooden sword actually flew out of his hand, landing with a loud 'clatter'!
And the tip of the Captain's wooden sword, like a cold venomous fang, was already held steadily before Dorian's throat! The entire process took less than ten seconds!
Dorian froze completely, his eyes wide, staring incredulously at his empty hand, then at the wooden sword tip just centimeters from his throat. His face was filled with bewilderment and disbelief. He... he lost just like that? He hadn't even touched his opponent once?!
The Victrix Guard Captain slowly withdrew his wooden sword. His steady voice spoke again, this time to Dorian:
"On the battlefield, victory is not solely reliant on brute force, brother Catonia." His tone was calm, without mockery, merely stating a fact. "Your strength is indeed rare, but if it cannot be effectively utilized, it will become a weakness. Precision, timing, and skill are equally important as strength."
Dorian opened his mouth, as if to retort, but looking at the Captain's calm eye-lenses and recalling his utterly incomprehensible defeat just now, he ultimately swallowed his words, letting out a somewhat dejected "Oh." Though he was reckless, he wasn't foolish; his opponent had indeed taught him a lesson with facts.
The Captain then looked at Dorian's astonishing height and build and added, "You are very strong, but you need to learn to control it."
With that, he said no more, gave a slight nod to Golden and Draculas, turned, and left the training ground with the warrior he had sparred with. His Golden cape billowed behind him, leaving a formidable silhouette.
Dorian picked up the wooden sword from the ground and unhappily put it back on the weapon rack. Golden walked over and patted his shoulder: "The Captain is right, Dorian. Your strength is an asset, but to become truly powerful, you need more training and thought."
Draculas also walked over. Although he didn't speak, his gaze seemed to convey a similar meaning.
Dorian scratched his short hair, looked in the direction the Victrix Guard had left, and then touched the laurel wreath on his head. For the first time, he felt a hint of doubt about his own invincibility. Perhaps... just having big fists wasn't enough after all?
This brief encounter, like a stone dropped into water, stirred a small ripple in Dorian's simple and direct mind. For the others, it reaffirmed the might of the Victrix Guard and the unfathomable depth of the Primarch's personal guard. The road to Terra was destined not to be smooth.
Deep within the Macragge's Honour, in a special medical chamber, time seemed to lose its meaning. Only the regular beeping of instruments and the soft hum of bio-fields marked the passage of time.
Gaius felt as if he had been sinking for a long time in a boundless, cold, and dark abyss. There was no sound, no light, only an absolute void and a sense of falling that enveloped him. His soul felt torn and then reassembled, utterly exhausted, yet gradually regaining consciousness under the nourishment of a warm light.
After an unknown duration, a faint glimmer of light pierced the darkness. Following this, muffled sounds entered his ears, as if through thick seawater. He struggled to focus, his eyelids as heavy as if welded shut.
Finally, after a painful struggle, his eyelashes fluttered a few times, and he slowly, with extreme effort, opened his eyes.
What greeted his sight was the familiar yet unfamiliar ceiling of the medical chamber, and Apothecary Vorlak's face, etched with fatigue and concern, now suddenly relaxed.
"Welcome back, Sergeant," Vorlak's voice was gentle and tinged with relief. "You've been asleep longer than we anticipated."
Gaius opened his mouth, his throat too dry to make any sound. Vorlak immediately wiped his lips gently with a damp cotton swab and carefully fed him a few drops of clear water.
The cool liquid moistened his parched throat, and Gaius finally managed a faint voice: "How… long have I slept? The battle… how did it go?"
His memory was still stuck on the brutal battlefield of the Cadia Gate, on the moment the Lictor's deadly claws pierced his chest, and… on the even more terrifying, desperate struggle within his soul against the Lord of Change and his Greater Daemon.
"You've been unconscious for over twenty standard days," Vorlak told him concisely while checking the data on the monitor. "The Cadia Gate campaign, we won. The Leviathan fleet was heavily damaged and retreated. Macragge welcomed its heroes home. Most of your brothers survived, though many bear wounds."
Hearing the news of victory and the safety of most of his brothers, Gaius's taut nerves finally relaxed a little. A wave of immense fatigue washed over him again, but he forced himself to stay awake.
Vorlak carefully checked his pupil response, nerve reflexes, and soul fluctuation readings, confirming that his consciousness had largely returned and his bodily functions were steadily improving.
"Your recovery is better than expected, Sergeant, it's nothing short of a miracle," Vorlak's tone held a hint of disbelief. "But your soul endured unimaginable stress and still requires rest. I need to report the news of your awakening now."
He reassured Gaius, telling him to remain calm, then turned and walked out of the medical chamber, speaking in a low voice to the Victrix Guard standing like golden statues at the door.
One of the Victrix Guard immediately turned and departed with steady, swift steps.
Approximately half a standard hour later, heavy footsteps once again came from outside the door. This time, it was the Victrix Guard Captain who entered. His golden armor gleamed under the medical chamber's lights, and his cold eye lenses settled on Gaius.
Gaius tried to struggle into a sitting position to salute, but the Captain stopped him with a gesture.
"The Primarch sends his regards, Sergeant Gaius. It is good to see you awake," the Captain's voice, relayed through his helmet, was as steady and calm as ever, devoid of any emotional fluctuation. "Given your unique circumstances, the Primarch has made a decision. Once your physical condition allows, you will accompany the Primarch to Holy Terra."
"Holy… Terra?" Gaius was stunned, his pale face filled with shock and confusion. Why go to Terra? Although his injuries were severe, it seemed unnecessary to travel to the heart of the Imperium… "This is the Primarch's command," the Captain's tone was unquestionable, but he offered no explanation. "All you need to do is recover as quickly as possible and be ready."
The Captain paused, as if receiving some information, then added: "Your brothers—Lieutenant Golden, Brother Declan Catonia, Tech-Sergeant Luna Aisa, Brother Draculus, and Tech-Sergeant Ailas—will also accompany you."
This news surprised Gaius again, but it also filled him with a surge of warmth and reassurance. His brothers would be going with him, which made him less apprehensive about the unknown journey to Terra.
"I understand," Gaius's voice, though still weak, had gained a touch of firmness. "Thank you for informing me, Captain. Please tell the Primarch I will recover as quickly as possible."
The Victrix Guard Captain nodded slightly: "Rest well, Sergeant. The Primarch wishes to see a spirited Sergeant, not a sickly casualty."
With that, he said no more and left the medical chamber, leaving Gaius to process the sudden and significant news. Going to Holy Terra… this must be related to the hidden danger within him. Was the Primarch planning to use Terra's power to completely resolve the Mark of Change? Thinking of this, Gaius's mood became complex, filled with both hope and deep unease.
At the same time Gaius awoke, in the luxurious quarters assigned to them, Dorian was jolted awake from a bizarre nightmare.
He abruptly sat up in the soft bed, which he found somewhat unaccustomed to, his muscles tense, his forehead covered in cold sweat, his heart pounding.
That dream again!
In recent days, he had repeatedly dreamt of that eerie place—a boundless, terrifying mountain range made of countless skulls, with a viscous, warm river of blood beneath his feet, and the air filled with the nauseating smell of rust and the mad screams of slaughter.
But this time, the dream was a little different. The figure radiating endless pressure and wrath from atop the towering brass throne was gone. He stood bewildered in that bloody place, looking around.
Then, he saw an utterly terrifying entity!
It was a colossal monster, almost comparable to a small Titan! It was roaring madly, its voice deafening, filled with pure savagery and a desire for destruction! It had a pair of huge, tattered fleshy wings, and instead of hair, its head was covered in dense, twisted, gnarled metal Gaiuss like iron pipes, or some kind of horrifying implants! In its hand, it wielded an enormous axe burning with dark red flames, tirelessly slaughtering countless blurry, wailing figures around it, each swing sending showers of blood and torn flesh into the air!
Even in the dream, Dorian could feel the almost suffocating aura of terrifying slaughter! The pressure emanating from that monster made even him, a fearless brute, feel a tremor in his heart!
Then he woke up.
Dorian gasped for breath, touched his pounding heart, and looked around at the luxurious yet unfamiliar surroundings. A puzzled and irritated expression appeared on his rugged face.
"Damn it… what kind of nightmare was that…" he muttered, shaking his head vigorously, trying to Dump off the bloody images.
Even with his brain, which wasn't known for its deep thinking, he vaguely felt that these recurring strange dreams were a bit off. Before, dreaming of that big guy sitting on the throne was scary, but at least he didn't move! This new one seemed much more irritable, and also… uglier?
The more he thought about it, the more uncomfortable he felt, so he simply climbed out of bed, wearing only his sleeping shorts, bare-chested and displaying a body covered in exaggerated scars and muscles, and loudly knocked on Draculus's door next door.
After a moment, the door slid open. Draculus was already fully dressed, even wearing his white helmet, as if he had never rested. His cold eye lenses looked at Dorian, who was almost naked and looked irritated, without any expression, just quietly waiting for him to speak.
"Hey, brother, let me ask you something," Dorian scratched his head, finding it a bit difficult to describe. "I keep having this weird dream lately… I dream of a place full of skulls and a river of blood. Before, there was a big guy sitting on a brass chair, but today he's gone, replaced by an uglier, roaring big guy with wings and a head full of iron pipes, going crazy and chopping people… Do you know what that place is? It's really creepy."
After listening to Dorian's rambling, personal description, Draculus's body, which had always been as still as an iceberg, subtly trembled. Even through the helmet, one could almost feel his gaze suddenly becoming extremely solemn.
He was silent for a few seconds, then spoke in an unprecedentedly serious, even slightly warning, low voice:
"That's not a place… that's a symbol. What you described… is a symbol of the Blood God Khorne and his Greater Daemons. The Skull Throne, the river of blood, and what you saw later… that's likely Khorne's Bloodthirster."
As a veteran, he naturally knew who the Greater Daemon Dorian described was, but he did not name it.
"Blood… Blood God?" Dorian blinked, looking bewildered. His understanding of Chaos Gods was limited to "they are bad things, must be killed," and he couldn't distinguish which god was in charge of what, nor did he bother to remember.
Draculus nodded heavily, his tone even more solemn: "Khorne, the god of slaughter, war, rage, and skulls. His domain is filled with endless violence and bloodshed. Your dream… is no coincidence. This could be…"
He didn't finish his sentence, but the meaning was clear—this could be a dangerous omen, a whisper or temptation from Chaos.
However, Dorian's peculiar thought process kicked in again. After listening, not only was he not scared, but he also slapped his thigh as if he had found a reasonable explanation, realizing something. As a result, he hit his still-healing injury, making him gasp in pain.
"Oh! So it's the Blood God! You made it sound so scary!" He rubbed his thigh, grimacing, with an "of course" expression. "I knew it! It must be those weird injections the apothecaries gave me earlier; the medicine was too strong! It's making me have these chaotic dreams! It's nothing, nothing, I'm strong, it'll be fine in a few days once it's metabolized!"
He completely disregarded Draculas's warning, came to his own conclusion, and then, as if he had solved some monumental problem, turned to go back to his room for more sleep.
Draculas watched his carefree, swaying back as he left, his brow likely tightly furrowed beneath his white helmet. He stood silently at the doorway for a long time before slowly closing the door.
Inside the room, this veteran, who had returned from Deathwatch and knew the horrors of Chaos, felt a new shadow fall over his heart. Catonia's dream... was probably not as simple as a drug's side effect. Had the Blood God's gaze also fallen upon this reckless warrior?
Just as these undercurrents were stirring, the Victrix Guard Captain's figure reappeared in the corridor, bringing news that Gaius had awakened.
Everyone's attention was instantly drawn to this good news. Dorian completely forgot about the Blood God's nightmare, excitedly shouting that he wanted to see Brother Gaius.
However, the path to Gaius's medical bay was still firmly guarded by the Victrix Guard. They were told that Gaius needed absolute quiet and could not have visitors yet.
Even if they couldn't visit, the news of Gaius's awakening relieved everyone, and their spirits lightened; at least the biggest worry had been lifted. Dorian was even more excited, unable to stay in his room, so he wandered back to the small armory and found Luna and Ailas busy at work.
"Hey! Luna! Little one! I have good news for you both! Brother Gaius is awake!" Dorian's loud voice broke the armory's quiet.
Luna looked up, a flicker of imperceptible relief crossing her cold face. Ailas, on the other hand, cheered directly, dropped her tools, and tried to run out, only to be gently stopped by Luna with a servo-arm.
"That's great! I knew Lord Gaius would be fine!" Ailas's small face was flushed with excitement.
"Of course! Old Gaius is tough as nails!" Dorian stood with his hands on his hips, proudly, as if Gaius's awakening was all his doing. Then, he changed the subject and began his favorite activity—bragging.
"But if you want to talk about being impressive, it has to be me, Declan Catonia!" He thumped his muscular chest, making a thudding sound. "You should have seen it, just a few days ago, in the training ground, I fought the golden Victrix Guard Captain for three hundred rounds! It was a battle that darkened the heavens and eclipsed the sun!"
He gesticulated wildly: "That Captain, he really had some moves, he wielded his sword like a flower! But who is I, Dorian? My strength could uproot mountains and cover the world! I swung like this... and smashed like that! He dodged so pitifully! If it weren't for my old injury not being fully healed and me slipping, the outcome would have been hard to say! Tsk tsk, what a shame..."
He was in the middle of a spittle-flying boast, immersed in his self-made heroic epic, when he heard a very faint, irrepressible 'pfft' sound from beside him.
Luna's shoulders were subtly shaking. Although her face remained expressionless, her cold eyes were clearly full of amusement. She even, for once, spoke, using her cool voice to precisely debunk him:
"Based on Lieutenant Golden's objective description, and the Victrix Guard Captain's condition when he left, your so-called 'three hundred rounds' lasted less than ten seconds. Your only attack was easily dodged, your weapon was then disarmed, and a wooden sword was pointed at your throat. Throughout the entire process, you failed to touch your opponent once. Do you need me to retrieve the training ground's surveillance records?"
Dorian's face instantly turned liver-colored, and he waved his arms in defense: "That… that was him playing dirty! Yes! Playing dirty! It doesn't count! And… and I was going easy on him! After all, he's someone close to Lord Primarch, I have to show some respect, don't I?"
Luna just looked at him silently, her gaze as if to say, "Keep making things up."
Ailas looked at Dorian, then at Luna. Although she didn't quite understand what exactly had happened, she knew that Lord Dorian was definitely bragging again and couldn't help but cover her small mouth to stifle a laugh.
Dorian felt uncomfortable under Luna's gaze. He awkwardly coughed twice, then, after saying that Tech-Sergeants who deal with gears all day don't understand combat, he quickly changed the subject. He scratched his head, as if remembering something, and said to Luna, "Oh, right, Luna, let me tell you something strange. I've been having a weird dream lately..."
So, he once again described the dream about the Skull Throne, the River of Blood, and the terrifying Greater Daemon that later appeared—
"roaring, with wings, a head full of iron pipes, and looking even tougher than himself"—in his unique narrative style.
"...But if it really came to a fight, hmph!" Dorian didn't forget to add at the end, waving his fist the size of a cooking pot to regain some confidence, "Then I, Dorian, would definitely be superior! One punch would bend all those iron pipes on its head!"
However, this time, after Luna finished listening, the faint smile on her face instantly vanished. Her brows furrowed slightly, and her eyes became sharp and solemn, mirroring Draculas's reaction earlier.
She put down her tools and pondered for a moment. As a Tech-Sergeant, she was not only proficient in mechanics but also required to study a vast amount of history and data, including confidential archives about the Great Crusade, the Horus Heresy, and Chaos forces. Based on the oral records and scattered information from other veterans who had lived through that dark era, Dorian's description of a "head full of iron pipes" immediately brought to mind a terrifying name—
Angron, the Red Angel of Nuceria, Primarch of the Twelfth Legion, the World Eaters, who was forcibly ascended to daemonhood during the Horus Heresy on Holy Terra, under the will of the Blood God Khorne, becoming one of Khorne's most powerful and savage Daemon Princes! One of his iconic features was the terrifying device implanted in his head, known as the 'Butcher's Nails,' whose appearance perfectly matched Dorian's crude description of a 'head full of iron pipes'!
A dream about the ascended Primarch Angron? This was no coincidence!
Luna's heart sank. She looked at Dorian, who was still carefree, even eager to fight the Greater Daemon from his dream, and a terrible thought uncontrollably surfaced: Could it be... that the bloodthirsty Khorne, just like the Changer of Ways Tzeentch had set his sights on Gaius, had also targeted this reckless warrior whose fighting style aligned so perfectly with the Blood God's doctrines?
Dorian's pure strength, savage fighting style, undisguised rage, and enjoyment of close-quarters slaughter... all of it made him seem like Khorne's ideal champion candidate!
The seriousness of this matter might even be on par with Gaius's Mark of Tzeentch!
Luna instinctively wanted to immediately go and report this extremely dangerous situation to Lieutenant Golden. But as soon as she took a step, she stopped again.
She thought of the upcoming journey to Terra. Lord Primarch had mobilized such important resources, even intervening personally, with the primary goal of resolving the imminent threat from Tzeentch within Gaius. That was currently the highest priority, the most crucial mission.
If she were to report Dorian's unconfirmed dream, which might just be an illusion, would it distract Lord Primarch? Would it disrupt the plan to go to Terra? And, as Dorian himself had idly speculated, what if... what if it really was just a rare side effect from those potent healing elixirs? Although that possibility was minuscule.
After weighing her options repeatedly, Luna took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the urge to report immediately.
"I'm aware of this matter," Luna said to Dorian, her tone returning to its usual calmness. "Before we go to Terra, do not mention this dream to anyone else, including Lieutenant Golden. Focus and prepare for the upcoming journey."
Dorian looked at her, puzzled, feeling that Luna's reaction was a bit of an overreaction for just a dream. But he had always trusted Luna, so he nodded vaguely: "Oh, got it. If you say not to, I won't."
Luna watched Dorian turn to fiddle with the heavy weapons again, her eyes filled with immense complexity.
She decided to keep this matter to herself for now. Her priority was to focus all resources and energy on ensuring Gaius could safely reach Terra and receive treatment. As for Dorian... perhaps it was truly just a false alarm. After the matter of Terra was settled, it wouldn't be too late to find an opportunity to secretly report to Lieutenant Golden or the Chapter Master.
Hopefully... she was just overthinking it. Luna thought to herself, but an ominous premonition quietly spread like a dark cloud.