Alex sized up the Chapter Master of the Emperor's Scythes, Thracian, who stood before him.
The other party's face was etched with the marks left by wind and frost, his skin rough and covered with numerous scars.
A striking cross-shaped wound ran across his entire face, its intersection point being his pale eye.
Behind Thracian, the warriors of the Emperor's Scythes strained to stand tall, intending to present their best appearance to the Saint.
They wore alien trophies: bones, teeth, and faded chitinous carapaces.
A banner with a pattern of two crossed scythes was tightly held by one of the warriors.
The Second Tyrannic War had destroyed the homeworld of the Emperor's Scythes, and they had lost most of their Warband assets, leaving only two companies of warriors.
After the Kraken Tyranids fleet was defeated and the Second Tyrannic War concluded, they refused Imperial supplies and also refused to train new warriors.
In the series of brutal battles that followed, their numbers dwindled, and now, only 13 warriors remained.
Many Imperial factions were curious as to why they acted this way!
Unwilling to rebuild, and unwilling to accept Imperial supplies!
Unfortunately, the Emperor's Scythes never responded, and others were helpless, only able to watch them head towards extinction.
"Chapter Master Thracian, thank you for your welcome," Alex said.
"I cannot refuse a Saint," Thracian replied, "Your words are the sacred will of the Emperor."
"Loyalty is worth rewarding. Tell me about Sotha," Alex inquired.
"Come this way. The space station still has a Strategic Room maintained and operational, which can give you a more intuitive understanding of the situation on Sotha," Thracian invited Alex and his party into the space station.
Inside the space station, there were still some ordinary people serving the Emperor's Scythes.
Along the way, they even saw several Tech-Priests with Servitors, repairing damaged sections of the space station, sparks flying and sizzling sounds emitting.
They had patched up the space station in many places, indicating a severe scarcity of resources.
"They are all survivors of Sotha. They returned here with us, hoping to be buried on Sotha one day," Thracian introduced the ordinary people to Alex and his group.
They were all pitiful people who had lost their homes, lingering here like unfulfilled spirits, only wishing to be buried in their homeland one day.
"It feels a bit desolate for some reason," Little Fatty muttered, "This storyline isn't going to have a tragic ending, is it?"
September Ninth shook his head, "It shouldn't. Sotha has Tyranids sentinels left behind, Necron constructs guarding the Pharos Lighthouse, and a half-dead C'tan. Where would the tragedy come from?"
"I think you two should stop jinxing it," Little Alpaca, who was a Battle Sister, stopped Little Fatty from continuing, "Lest the bad comes true instead of the good."
"Look at these," Pigtail pointed to a wall, "These claw marks must have been left by the Tyranids / Tyranid."
Prompted by Pigtail, the Players looked around and saw many traces left by bio-weapons.
Punctures, acid corrosion, teeth marks, claw scratches—everything was present.
"You can tell the battle was really fierce back then."
Little Fatty reached out to touch the marks, guessing how many Tyranids it would take to leave such traces.
...
The machine spirit of the Strategic Room awakened, emitting a weary, weak sound.
The machinery here was quite old, having been around for some years.
The Cogitator wetware arranged on the walls trembled in their nutrient fluid.
As indicator lights flickered, the projection device hummed, and light pulsed, outlining the shape of Sotha and some captured images.
Everything on Sotha had been plundered clean.
Areas that were once oceans had become dry basins, and the stripped, bare land revealed dried hydrological networks and spiderweb-like mountain ranges.
It was like a precise planetary geological model, devoid of any life.
"After the Second Tyrannic War ended, we have been relentlessly hunting those abominable enemies."
"Every time they plunder a planet, they leave behind some sentinels to continue providing coordinates or intelligence to the Hive Mind."
"So, Sotha also has sentinels left by the Kraken fleet. This is the first enemy we must face."
"Where is the Pharos?" Cawl inquired with a mechanical voice.
Thracian rotated the projection, illuminating an isolated mountain.
"The Pharos is here, next to the former Watch Fortress of the Emperor's Scythes."
"We had been guarding the Pharos Lighthouse until the arrival of the swarm."
The predecessor of the Emperor's Scythes was the 199th Company of the Ultramarines Legion—the Shieldbearers.
During the Horus Heresy, with Warp Storms raging, the loyalists were scattered across various locations.
Guilliman entrusted the loyal Iron Warrior, Barabas Dantioch, with repairing the Pharos Lighthouse to guide Imperial ships through the Warp using xenos technology.
Dantioch was also a legendary Imperial hero.
He originated from the Iron Warriors Legion, and like his Primarch Perturabo, hailed from Olympia.
During the Great Crusade, he commanded the Fifty-First Expeditionary Fleet, as well as several Iron Warriors grand battalions, including the Fourteenth Grand Battalion.
He was a Warsmith and one of Perturabo's Triumvirate, responsible for offering advice or counsel to the Primarch.
During the campaign against the Hrud, he encountered their entropy-inducing weapons, resulting in catastrophic casualties for his battalions and the complete annihilation of his auxiliary forces.
He himself aged directly from his prime to the point where he required a power armor life support system to survive.
When Perturabo accused him of incompetence, he angrily questioned the Primarch, asking why he was foolish enough to fight this war!
Why did he repeatedly ignore advice and insist on going his own way!
The Emperor clearly did not intend for the Iron Warriors to do such thankless work; He merely wanted to gain control of this star system.
Yet, the Primarch always sought to prove his worth in the most brutal way possible.
His pride wounded, Perturabo flew into a rage.
He immediately stripped Dantioch of his position, exiled him, erased all his achievements and his name, and ordered him to wear a mask, never to show his true face again.
For an old veteran who valued honor, this was undoubtedly the cruelest punishment.
Perturabo had precisely counted on this.
Dantioch, with his surviving subordinates, left the Fourth Legion and traveled to the edge of the galaxy to complete the last task assigned by the Primarch: to conquer his place of exile.
During the Horus Heresy, Dantioch swore allegiance to the Emperor and severely crippled the traitors who sought to take over his domain.
Later, Dantioch arrived in Ultramar and assisted Guilliman in repairing the Pharos Lighthouse.
This was a very wise decision.
As the Pharos Lighthouse was lit, many loyal Imperial factions lost in the Warp arrived at Ultramar.
Among them were the Primarch of the First Legion, Lion El'Jonson, and the Primarch of the Ninth Legion, Sanguinius.
The three Primarchs, considering that Horus had killed the Emperor,
He decided to establish the Second Imperium, vowing revenge on all traitors.
During this process, Dantioch gained the recognition of other loyal Legions.
Later, the traitorous Midnight Lord Legion launched an invasion of Sotha.
Dantioch fought fiercely and eventually, with the help of reinforcements, defeated the Midnight Lord.
However, he was also exhausted by this war and died in the arms of his brother.
Afterward, Guilliman removed the mask that brought Dantioch shame,
vowing that the Imperium would always remember this hero,
and posthumously recognized him as the 'Pharos Guardian'.
The Shield Company, due to the Battle of Sotha, received the double scythe banner and made the Shield Oath,
vowing to guard the Pharos Lighthouse and Dantioch's relics.
During the Third Founding, this company became the Emperor's Scythes.
"The Tyranids are the great enemy of humanity, and you have done an excellent job." Alex nodded.
"This is merely our duty," Thracian said.
"We will proceed to the Pharos Lighthouse and reclaim it from the xenos."
Alex stretched out his hand and swiped the projection.
"I don't think it will take too much time."
"Please take us with you," Thracian requested.
"Alright, go change into some Power Armor. We brought quite a few," Alex did not refuse, but his voice carried a hint of sadness.
A hero has chosen his final song, and he should not be hindered.
"We don't need them, these armors are good enough," Thracian refused.
Alex patiently said, "This journey will be fraught with danger. If a hero is to meet his end, I hope he can do so with dignity and grace."
"Archmagos Cawl will equip you with brand new Power Armor. You can spray your preferred Emperor's Scythes patterns on them."
"In the name of the Emperor, I forbid you from refusing this command."
Thracian looked at Alex.
He noticed the other party's eyes were incredibly deep,
containing the wisdom of the entire universe, along with a hint of sadness and sympathy.
The other party seemed to already know their secret.
After a moment of eye contact, Thracian yielded.
The other party had given an order in the Emperor's name; if he disobeyed, it would be contempt for the Emperor.
With the help of the accompanying Adeptus Mechanicus members, the change of armor was quick.
They sprayed the same double scythe pattern on the surface of the Power Armor.
After completing the preparations and confirming the action plan,
Alex and the others took a gunboat to the surface of Sotha,
heading to the Emperor's Scythes Warband's Fortress Monastery.
There was a path there that led to the interior of the Pharos Lighthouse.
Cortana also went down with them,
after all, only she could reverse-engineer Necron technology.
Without her, this mission would be impossible to complete.
Cawl had crafted an exquisite mechanical body for her,
allowing her to remotely control it and house a mental avatar.
Cortana was very happy to receive the body, jumping and skipping around.
Alex had to give orders several times, telling her to stay by his side and not run around.
The gunboat successfully arrived at the magnificent Fortress Monastery.
There was nothing left there but bare stone; the Tyranids had devoured everything.
As Alex and the others advanced towards the Fortress Monastery,
some Tyranids / Tyranid rushed out from the shadows and attacked them.
Their numbers were large, but facing the Players' fierce firepower,
they quickly broke and fled back into the darkness.
"Is this all these bugs are capable of? This mission is practically a breeze."
Little Fatty controlled his brand-new exoskeleton armor, unleashing a torrent of firepower on the swarm, tearing them to shreds.
Unlike Warmaster and Tenjiro, who were busy raising their favorability with various Warbands,
Little Fatty had been constantly hovering around Cawl, acting as the Archmagos's loyal little sycophant.
After helping Cawl complete several missions,
the latter helped him modify his exoskeleton armor,
adding various destructive weapons,
some of which were even technologies not permitted by the Adeptus Mechanicus.
Cawl had 'kindly' installed them for Little Fatty.
The only price was that each time he returned, he had to provide Cawl with data logs and combat footage.
"I've really hit the jackpot."
Little Fatty didn't know that his thoughts perfectly aligned with Cawl's.
Otherwise, he would have at least sighed and exclaimed that there was a telepathic connection between the two of them.
The Imperial forces successfully entered the Emperor's Scythes' former Fortress Monastery.
Just as everyone thought everything was going smoothly,
an exaggeratedly large, mountain-like Gene Stealer Patriarch emerged from the darkness,
followed by a vast number of Genestealer.
The densely packed Genestealer surrounded Alex and his group.
Most of them were purebloods, their claws glowing with the radiance of a rending field, capable of easily tearing through metal.
Clearly, they had deliberately allowed Alex and the others to enter,
intending to use the narrow combat environment within the fortress to restrict their firepower and annihilate them in one fell swoop.
Accompanied by a shriek from the Gene Stealer Patriarch,
the Genestealer howled and rushed towards the Players like a tidal wave.
"Kill, for the Emperor!" Little Fatty controlled his exoskeleton to output fire,
dense laser and bolter rounds shredding swathes of enemies.
"Feel the power of the Warp!" Tenjiro shouted,
psyker flames rapidly expanded from him, igniting the xenos monsters rushing towards him.
The battle was incredibly fierce, and the slaughter quickly became white-hot.
The warriors of the Emperor's Scythes carved a path, surrounding the Gene Stealer Patriarch.
"It was you who led the swarm to Sotha."
Thracian looked at the Gene Stealer Patriarch, his eyes burning with the raging fire of vengeance.
He raised his bolter, attempting to shoot at the enemy.
However, he merely held it, not pulling the trigger.
The other Emperor's Scythes warriors were the same.
Thracian showed a desperate expression.
"Even the neural inhibitors aren't working?"
"Are we doomed to bear this shame until our demise?"
The long-hidden secret was revealed:
the members of the Emperor's Scythes Warband could not fire upon the Gene Stealer Patriarch,
simply because contaminated blood flowed within their bodies,
and the will of the Tyranids / Tyranid prevented them.
"Alas!"
"Go forth, in the Emperor's name, take your revenge."
Seeing this scene, Alex sighed.
Holy power emanated from him,
flowing into the bodies of the Emperor's Scythes warriors.
Thracian felt as if he had broken free from his shackles.
He tried to pull the trigger once more.
Bang!
The bolter roared, its muzzle flashing with fire.
The bolter rounds struck the Gene Stealer Patriarch's body,
causing it to let out a painful wail.
Its yellow eyes showed a hint of disbelief.
They all bore the marks of being blessed, how could they fire upon it?!
"Kill it!" Thracian shouted.