The high-command sanctum was heavy with the scent of recycled air and stale caffeine. Many of the high-ranking officers who had gathered here only weeks ago were reunited, but the toll of the war was visible in the empty chairs.
The Wolf Lord representing the Firehowl pack was missing, currently embroiled in an unknown peril; the Grand Master of the Dark Angels remained locked in a desperate struggle amidst the wreckage of his cruiser; the Baroness of House Raven was still entrenched on the eastern front; and the Canoness of the Order of the Sacred Rose was likewise absent.
However, two new figures now occupied seats at the strategic table. One was Governor Alexei of the Aiur reinforcements. He met the suspicious and weary gazes of the room with a calm, enigmatic smile. Beside him, sitting next to the Marshal of the Black Templars, was Tarquill, Chapter Master of the Emperor's Scythes, who sat with his eyes closed in a state of meditative rest.
Looking at the vacant seats and the newcomers, Creed's adjutant, Jarran Kell, let out a weary sigh. "How much can change in just a few solar days?"
The room fell into a heavy silence. After a moment, the Lord Castellan of Cadia exhaled slowly and addressed the assembly. "I have gathered you all to discuss the Despoiler's inevitable next maneuver."
He gestured toward the tactical hololith. "According to our strategic projections, the Black Legion will soon launch a concentrated assault against the Beta Curtain to the east," he said, nodding toward Alexei's position. "While we have received significant support from Governor Alexei's forces, it is imperative that we bolster the Beta Curtain with additional reserves."
"My Great Company is still butchering traitors on the northern front," Owen Skyfall, Lord of another Space Wolf pack, growled in a voice like grinding stones. "I cannot spare a single blade to retreat for a defensive action."
"I was hoping you might shift to a more stationary defensive posture..."
"Impossible," Skyfall interrupted flatly. "The Vlka Fenryka do not retreat."
Creed sighed, a sound of profound exhaustion. He turned his attention to the others. After a brief, tense deliberation, it was clear that only the Black Templars, the Emperor's Scythes, and the local Cult Mechanicus detachments had the mobility to redeploy.
"We may not fully fathom why Abaddon is so obsessed with the destruction of Kasr Kraf," Creed declared, slamming his fist onto the table with enough force to rattle the data-slates. "But Cadia will not break. Cadia stands!"
As the echoes of his defiant shout faded, the rhythmic whirring of gears and the high-pitched drone of a servo-skull drifted in from the corridor. Heavy, metallic footsteps drew closer until they halted abruptly at the doors of the conference chamber.
The officers reached for their sidearms, their faces etched with caution—all except for Alexei, who felt a surge of relief. You've finally arrived. I was beginning to think you'd bypassed Cadia entirely.
The doors hissed open to reveal a colossal silhouette. Standing over three meters tall and draped in heavy, crimson-red robes, the newcomer's massive mechanical frame was unmistakable.
"Archmagos Belisarius Cawl?" Magos Crane blurted out from across the table. "What brings a luminary of your standing to the Cadian Gate?"
"Ah, my apologies. I trust I have not interrupted a critical juncture in your deliberations." Cawl bowed his head slightly to clear the doorway, his multi-lensed optical array scanning the room before locking onto Crane. "I require you to escort me to the xenos construct located beneath this Kasr."
"Why? What is your interest in that relic?" Crane asked, his mechanical voice buzzing with curiosity.
"It is not merely my interest; the Despoiler is clearly fixated upon it as well," Cawl replied, his voice a complex layering of synthesized tones and binary clicks.
Crane's posture stiffened as a realization dawned on him. He glanced at Alexei—who was watching Cawl with intense anticipation—and then turned back to the Archmagos. "What do you know? Can you explain why the Black Fleet is so determined to erase Cadia? There must be a reason beyond mere spite."
"Oh? You were unaware?" Cawl asked, a hint of genuine surprise in his vox-output. He turned his sensors back to Crane. "I assumed you had deciphered the pattern. I detected the resonance of the pylons within your shield arrays as I arrived."
Crane remained frozen, the servo-skull hovering over his shoulder bobbing in an anxious loop.
Cawl proceeded to explain the nature of his findings, but as he finished his data-dump, the room descended into a confused, heavy silence.
"Is there an issue?" Cawl asked, his metallic limbs twitching with impatience.
"Several!" Creed exclaimed. "Do you honestly expect us to decipher that thicket of jargon and binary formulas?"
"Agreed!" the Wolf Lord howled. "Speak in a tongue meant for men, not logic-engines!"
"Which part specifically eluded your comprehension?" Cawl's voice carried a distinct edge of irritation. "Was it the Eriad sector survey? The mathematical proofs? The celestial polarity? Perhaps I should re-transmit the binary sequences at a slower baud rate?"
"No one in this room speaks binary, Archmagos!" Creed barked.
"Ahem." Magos Crane, who had been processing the data, finally intervened. "I believe I understand. Allow me to summarize."
He turned to the council, translating Cawl's findings into layman's terms: during Cawl's investigation of the ruins on Eriad VI, he discovered fragments of Blackstone pylons identical to those on Cadia. These were part of a network that Abaddon had systematically targeted since the Fourth Black Crusade. The reason for their destruction was simple: these ancient structures were the only things anchoring the material universe against the Warp.
"They anchor reality?" Creed asked, his brow furrowed.
"Precisely," Cawl hummed. "We have long viewed the Eye of Terror as a wound constantly eroding the galaxy. In truth, it is the inverse. Reality is constantly slipping into the Warp, and these Blackstone pylons are the tethers holding the galaxy in place."
Cawl let out a synthesized sigh. "Think of the Eye as a jagged tear, and Cadia as the thread that stitches it closed."
"So the Despoiler intends to sever the thread," Creed realized, before slamming his hand onto the table again. "Throne... no!"
The room turned to him as his expression shifted to one of cold dread. "The greatest concentration of Blackstone structures on Cadia isn't here at Kasr Kraf—it's the Spire Fields to the north!"
"Abaddon's assault on the eastern curtain was a feint—a distraction to tie down our reserves. His true objective is to shatter the Blackstone pylons on the northern plains! If they fall, the Warp will flood the system unimpeded. Daemons will be able to manifest on Cadian soil without restriction!"
A grim weight settled over the commanders—except for Alexei and Cawl. Alexei already knew the trajectory of history. He knew the resistance Abaddon would face from the Legion of the Damned, and the arrival of the Great Daemon. But he remained calm. If the Warp spawned its monsters, his Colossi would show the galaxy what a true god-machine looked like.
Cawl interrupted the mounting panic, looking at Crane. "Now, may we proceed to the study of the xenos construct? I believe the data retrieved can be adapted for immediate tactical applications."
"Of course, I would be honored to..."
"Wait!" A voice cut through the Magos's reply. Alexei stood up, his gaze locked on the Archmagos. "Archmagos Cawl, I have long studied your contributions to the Omnissiah's cause. Please, allow me to accompany you. I believe my perspective—and my resources—may be of significant use."
Cawl tilted his head, his sensors whirring as he analyzed the unaugmented human before him. He glanced at the silent, brooding Creed. "Very well. I do not see the harm. Since the Lord Castellan does not object, you may join the expedition."
Alexei let out a silent breath of relief. Finally... he could already imagine the look on their faces when Trazyn the Infinite made his appearance. It was going to be an unforgettable encounter.