Chapter 271: The Coming Storm
The war on the knight world progressed with incredible speed.
Even with its sturdy iron fortresses, under the combined technical support of the Black Templars and the Crimson Fists, the offensive was still like a hot knife through butter. But many were not happy.
In the Ironwing's garrison on the Silent Vow, Azrael stood silently, his gaze fixed on Zahariel's operation. Cypher and Gareth were serving as personal guards and handling post-battle casualty processing, respectively, while he had come here to observe. The flickering data changed constantly with Zahariel's precise manipulations. This was a field he had to understand, but not necessarily master. Azrael's ambition was far greater than just taking control of The Rock, but he also needed to be able to understand the truth behind this series of operations, to guard against possible deception and betrayal.
The air around them gradually solidified. As the fragments of the data core were analyzed one by one, the whispers of the surrounding technical officers gradually fell silent, replaced by a suppressed tension. Azrael could feel an invisible weight pressing down on Zahariel's shoulders. His fingers paused on the console for half a second, his brow furrowing almost imperceptibly, then quickly smoothing out.
The Dark Angels had few records of conflicts with large Mechanicus factions. Perhaps it was because Azrael, as a new recruit to the Inner Circle, did not have the clearance to view them. So Azrael did not currently know what the standard for a successful operation was for the Dark Angels Legion. But from Zahariel's various subtle reactions, he could tell that the result of this operation did not meet the Dark Angels' expectations.
Azrael looked around. The familiar faces were still the same, which meant the casualty rate was very low. And the tactics had been personally decided by the Prince. Azrael had not encountered any difficult situations throughout the process. So it was not a problem on their side. It was a problem with the opponent. The gains did not match the expectations.
Zahariel's gaze rested on Azrael for a moment, then withdrew. "This is the Treaty of Olympus, which the Emperor himself signed. Take a look," he said, casually taking out a toilet-paper-thick tome and diverting the other's attention. While the other was looking down at it, Zahariel opened an encrypted channel to Arthur.
"My Prince, we have the results," he reported.
In the conference hall, Arthur's figure in the hololithic projection paused slightly. He was standing before the tactical sand table, the light of the star-chart reflecting on his cold face. "Speak." His reply came back in the form of an encrypted pulse. The audio-enhancer could pick up the faint current sound. Zahariel quickly analyzed the other's attitude.
Zahariel's gaze swept over the still-analyzing data stream, and he continued to report, "We have conducted a detailed analysis of the remaining information units of the Dark Mechanicum. We have not obtained any effective information. The currently known information is that a schism occurred on Omega III several years ago. A faction called the 'Cult of the Demiurge' communicated with Omega III, and then Omega III was dismantled. 91.3% of the forges were dismantled and then transferred by unknown means. The remaining Dark Mechanicum personnel are a branch that did not submit to the Cult of the Demiurge's management, so they remained on Omega III to restore the lost production capacity. Regarding the renegade world of Drol, it is known that the High Queen, at the invitation of the Cult of the Demiurge, chose to leave this planet that the dynasty had managed for so long. The remaining information is also unclear."
"Secondly—" Azrael was still flipping through the secret treaty.
Zahariel looked away and continued, "In the process of analyzing the technical inventory, we discovered new models of Terminators and Dreadnoughts, as well as personal disintegration weapons, which were shared with the various legions by the Lord of the Drakes—Lord Vulkan—during the Great Crusade. The other technologies overlap with what we currently possess and will require detailed comparison by technical personnel later."
After listening, Arthur had a clear picture. "Replicate the Terminator and Dreadnought technology and conduct tactical tests to determine if they can be integrated into the current tactical reserve. Continue to conduct a carpet search of Omega III. You may contact Archmagos Cawl for information exchange."
"Yes, my Prince," Zahariel's reply was crisp and decisive. He then cut the communication.
Arthur looked at Ramesses. "It's the Cult of the Demiurge. It's got to be related to Vashtorr."
The core members of the Dawnbreakers surrounding them all tensed. At this moment, the fleet's communication channel was filled with the cheers of victory. The faces of the young warriors they had brought with them were still flushed with excitement, clearly not realizing the seriousness of the problem. But the atmosphere in the command center was so heavy you could cut it with a knife.
The veterans of the Great Crusade had already dragged their juniors to the command center and were beginning to report the anomalies they had noticed. The knights all looked like new models, completely lacking the exaggerated combat experience that came with the accumulation of ancestral spirits. The Titans, controlled by "abhumans," were being mowed down like grass. Although the veterans had never piloted a knight, they had fought alongside them in the Great Crusade, and had even blown up Aeldari who had dared to block their path. They had a good idea of how a knight should perform against an Aeldari Titan.
"It's a pity those daemons were also half-clueless," Ramesses's sigh echoed in the conference hall, tinged with a rare frustration. He had treated them well, but he hadn't been able to squeeze any useful information out of these daemons before they died. It was clear that their opponent was evolving rapidly. At the very least, the mastermind who had planned this series of actions already knew their information gathering channels. "Vashtorr's Soul Forge has not been expanded. I can't find any facilities related to this forge world. He must have learned from his experience with me."
Ramesses was all too familiar with this pattern. Those lesser gods had all learned from his advanced experience, and had stopped putting all their eggs in one basket. They were all opening branch mines now. It was really hard to find.
Although it was certain that Vashtorr was involved in this operation, the most pressing matter now was to find out where the missing knights and Mechanicus members had been transferred.
On the other side of the tactical table, Romulus's expression was very serious. For this war, he had waited until the end of two five-year plans, had invited multiple Chapters that were planning to go to the Eye of Terror, and had not even split the fleet to deploy forge-ships before contacting this planet. And the victory had been too easy!
If you were to say that Romulus was happy, he was definitely not. It was like when you're playing a card game and you've already set up your board to OTK the opponent, and the opponent just has three set cards and a single, easily-killed skeleton on the field. You'd be sweating buckets. Everyone now had the strange feeling that if they started to move, they would be chained to death by the opponent.
"This is a problem," Romulus said, his fingers at his temples, a headache blooming. His mind was constantly planning various guesses. This was the first time he had faced such a targeted change, and for a moment, he was at a loss.
"...Please, speak freely," he said, forcing himself to unclench his fists. He projected the intelligence onto the central hololith and then said to the veterans. These battle-hardened warriors might be able to provide a different perspective from their long years of campaigning.
Faced with the Primarch's usual calm demeanor, the众人 present exchanged glances. They cursed the Ultramarines' dog-luck in their hearts, and then began to state their judgments.
Click! The discussion had been going on for who knows how long when the heavy bulkhead suddenly slid open. An Iron Hand in master-crafted power armour strode in, went straight to Drakus, who had been standing like a statue behind the Primarch, and whispered a few words in his ear. Drakus's statue-like body moved. He then reported in a low voice that only Romulus could hear, "Inquisitor Aglaia has arrived."
Aglaia was very frustrated. She had once had a cushy job. The four lords were very reliable, and knew when to advance and when to retreat. There was almost nothing special to record and report all day long. Sometimes, a week, a month would go by, and the number of reportable events wouldn't even match a single day's content from a sector governor. This meant her workload would be very light.
During the crusade, she would worry that if her submitted reports had too little effective content, it would displease her superior Inquisitor and her new boss, the Grand Master of the Officio Assassinorum. But after she had tremblingly dealt with Archmagos Cawl's deadly report, and had then truthfully reported the Primarchs' itinerary, she had finally put aside this concern. Because, unexpectedly, the Grand Master of the Officio Assassinorum had not only not held her responsible, but had been quite satisfied with the result. He had even specially commended her, had assigned her a Callidus Assassin squad to assist her work, and had encouraged her to keep up the good work and try to live a little longer by the Primarchs' side.
In the Imperial system, the profession of Inquisitor was the one that could least stand up to scrutiny. The continuous explosions on Terra, the burning anger of the Custodes, and especially the Primarch's jokes that would occasionally leak out... now, after a systematic investigation, the entire Inquisition, according to Imperial standards, was heretical. At first, they had killed so many that the Grey Knights had discovered that if they continued to kill like this, many of the Inquisition's Ordos would be wiped out, and there would be no one to do their future work. So they had simply reported to the Custodes and had them set the standards and procedures for loyalty identification. They couldn't just keep killing like this. The Grey Knights even felt the Custodes were a bit extreme—and the Custodes, who had always looked down on the Astartes, were surprisingly gentle with the Grey Knights and had easily agreed to this plan.
But the mortality rate was still high.
And Aglaia, she was the one who could stand up to the most scrutiny. Custodian-Warden Navradaran was the one who had saved her on the Black Ship back in the day. And the first time she had officially worked as an Inquisitor, she had run into the Primarchs. Although her resume had suspicions of colluding with local Terran nobles, infiltrating noble pilgrim groups, developing personal political power in various sectors, and illegally concentrating and cultivating special humans, and other such faction-building activities, for an Inquisitor, it could be called clean and beautiful. An Inquisitor, not being possessed by a daemon, is something to be thankful for.
Her workload was one of the highest among her colleagues in the Inquisition, although that was counting from the bottom up. But her treatment and various benefits were at the top of the Inquisition. This made Aglaia a little suspicious and embarrassed.
And in her future reports, if the content for the month was sufficient, Aglaia would report truthfully. If the content was not enough, she would add some trivial matters about the Primarchs. She felt she was turning from an Inquisitor into a court historian, writing a daily record. In the long run, this had also eased her inner turmoil a little, and had made her feel a little more justified when she enjoyed Terra's commendations.
To be fair, wasn't such a job a great one? In fact, Aglaia had always thought so. But unfortunately, this great job had been completely ruined not long after she had encountered a certain 'xenos'.
"Those people on Terra have no idea what they're doing, letting a xenos get in and give bad advice, and even giving my job to a xenos!" Thinking of the Inquisitor certification that Trazyn had given her a while ago, and the appointment letter that, in light of the current situation, was ridiculously absurd, Aglaia was speechless.
At first, she couldn't find out who the Inquisitor who had taken over her job was, and had always thought the other party's professional ability was very good. But it turned out the xenos-inquisitor was right beside her. There were too many insects on Terra. Could a human really have made such a heaven-defying decision? The Custodes were still not extreme enough. To let the person who had given this order live.
So after her work had been taken over, to protect her own ecological niche, and to deal with the work of the Grand Master of the Officio Assassinorum on a personal level, Aglaia had to pick up her old trade again. That is, to use her connections to smooth over the relationships at all levels, and to assist the Primarchs in laying out a certain plan. For example, the following matter.
"Inquisitor Aglaia," the reporting Invictarus Suzerain said, stepping out from a side door and opening the conference hall door. "Please enter."
"Thank you," Aglaia said, and quickly entered the conference room. Her black Inquisitor's robes billowed like a wave with her hurried steps. "Lord Romulus..."
She saluted the four Primarchs in turn, and then turned her gaze to the other members of the conference. "Speak directly," Romulus said.
"First is the investigation of the Isstvan system," she said, bringing up a hololithic projection. An ancient star-chart rotated before them. "The Isstvan system has disappeared. We went to find it according to the ancient data coordinates. Aside from recording some information sent by the ancient Emperor's Children, the planet itself has vanished."
"..." The four exchanged surprised glances. Ramesses shook his head helplessly, clearly knowing nothing about this. "Continue," he nodded in understanding, signaling for Aglaia to continue her report.
"Secondly is the infiltration of the Vigilus nobility. We have now reached a consensus with the surrounding sectors. As long as the Primarchs can guarantee that Vigilus can continue to provide life-extension services to the upper echelons of the Imperium, then they will not interfere."
The atmosphere in the conference hall relaxed slightly. This was indeed good news—Vigilus's rejuvenation technology was second only to the core worlds of Terra and Mars, which were full of black technology. The technologies that could slow aging and extend life had allowed the local rulers to accumulate unimaginable wealth and connections. Because for the ruling class, there was nothing more sought after than a longer lifespan. This also made the Dawnbreakers very cautious in their handling of Vigilus. If they could, they still did not want to have an Imperial-style civil war with the surrounding sectors over Vigilus.
But Vigilus definitely had to be dealt with. Not to mention its importance. The current rulers of Vigilus were the Agamemnus dynasty. In this family, the brother of the planetary governor, Cyraene Agamemnus IX, Dornos Agamemnus, had an unusual collecting habit. He liked to collect various destructive ancient weapons. Including six Deathstrike missiles. In the future Indomitus Crusade, faced with Calgar, who held the Regent's decree, and the request for the dynasty to use the six Deathstrike missiles in its collection for the Imperial war effort, this guy had actually dared to say no!
If they didn't get rid of this kind of Imperial noble, whose loyalty was so unclear, Romulus was sure that the tactical equipment produced by their forge-ships would appear in the other's collection the next day.
"This is a problem," Romulus said, his voice still a little low. This task, on the surface, seemed simple—just convince the powerful of the surrounding sectors that the Primarchs could provide better conditions, and you could win their neutrality. But to make so many Imperial nobles believe the promise of a few suddenly returned gene-Primarchs was no easy task.
Romulus shook his head slightly. Now was clearly not the time to think deeply about this problem. Looking at the vanished Isstvan, and then at the vanished Knight House and Mechanicus, he felt a sudden panic. It was completely outside the plan.
"For Humanity," Aglaia said, making a solemn sign of the Aquila. At Romulus's gesture, she slowly retreated to her position.
As she sat down, Aglaia keenly sensed that the atmosphere in the conference hall was a little strange. She silently observed her surroundings. The Primarchs' exchanged glances held a certain tacit understanding. The tense shoulders of the veterans revealed an unusual alertness. Even the air seemed to be filled with some unspeakable tension.
Aglaia was very familiar with this feeling. The feeling of a coming storm.
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