Chapter 446: Back to the Future
"Withdraw."
Farith Redloss's voice was muffled, as if something blocked his throat.
"Louder! With that little voice, do you still wish to fight alongside the Lion?"
"Withdraw—as long as the Lion approves!"
Redloss slammed his hand on the table and stood up, almost shouting:
"I agree to withdraw!"
This was Kay's proposal, the serious suggestion put forward by the Knights of the Round Table.
As the words fell, he slumped back into his seat as if drained of all strength.
The air seemed to vanish from the room. He felt a sudden weakness, never realizing he had relied so heavily on something, nor ever truly considering what that something was. And now, it was gone, slipping silently through his fingers, leaving only this suffocating shell.
Some bottom line had been inadvertently breached.
"Good."
Having received a genuine response, a smile finally appeared on Kay's face.
"You won't regret this decision."
Seeing the toughest nut cracked by a single sentence from Kay, the surrounding Firstborn Space Marines visibly relaxed. They patted each other's pauldrons, nodding in agreement, while the Primaris veterans took out dataslates and parchment, earnestly beginning to compile the list of battle-brothers wishing to return to the future.
The rustle of stylus on paper filled the air.
The Primaris veterans looked relieved, not only because they could fight alongside more familiar comrades, but because the mission was a complete success.
Indeed.
Kay handed two documents to Redloss, watching him sign and press his thumbprint.
They had a mission too.
As Dark Angels who had followed the Lion through the Great Crusade, although the Heresy itself was somewhat abstract, they were witnesses to the Legion era. They had experienced countless battles far more arduous than those of later ages. The experience possessed by each member was invaluable to the future.
Even though they could now summon reinforcements from the Emperor's Legion of the Damned, the Emperor was reluctant to release them easily, and suitable sacrifices were hard to find. The efficiency of reconstructing the Legion was far less than simply wholesaling Dark Angels directly from the past.
Moreover, they possessed a fleet, technology, tens of thousands of warriors, and the Lion personally commanding them. As long as they returned to the future and underwent the Primaris surgery, they could immediately enter the battlefield as combat-ready forces.
In fact, Lord Ramesses' method would be extremely efficient if popularized.
While counting the list, Corswain thought of the one who communicated most deeply with the Emperor.
The development of the Stormcast Eternals (Thunder Warriors/Reforged) greatly reduced the gap between the Imperium and Chaos, allowing the Legion of the Damned—which the confused Emperor struggled to command—to shine again in reality.
And now, the elite units of both sides were basically fighting to death in reality, continuing in the Warp, and finding a chance to return to reality to fight again. This finally brought equality to the unfairness that had existed for so long.
Theoretically, the current Imperium could also form grassroots organizations specifically for hunting daemons. Combining the biological technology of the Magi Biologis, rehiring a large number of high-quality human souls on a planetary scale to strengthen the disaster resistance of various planets shouldn't be a problem.
But the environment of the Imperium... well, those who understand, understand.
When promoting the technology, it was agreed to hunt daemons for Warp rehiring operations. But when it came to execution, the Ecclesiarchy would organize a planet's population for a grand sacrifice, the four Chaos Gods would intervene, and then a huge hole would be randomly torn in realspace. Finally, the Dawnbreakers and the Emperor would curse together.
Capturing xenos as consumables was considered having a bottom line for them!
Thinking of this, Corswain sighed.
The Dawnbreakers brought many new things, even overcoming the technological blockade from the Warp, allowing the soil carrying science to flourish again. As a result, they were now limited by the backwardness of sociology.
By the way, does the Imperium really have such a thing as sociology?
He shook his head, throwing the non-existent thing out of his mind.
Truly, there are always more difficulties than difficulties.
"..."
Noticing Corswain sighing again, Redloss felt slightly puzzled, but then shook his head vigorously.
He just wanted to get rid of these people as soon as possible.
Corswain quickly reported the situation to the Lion. Galahad had already begun to mobilize the fleet, leading the way through the gradually closing rift. Meanwhile, the robed attendants were rushing to salvage the Ouroboros from the Caliban fragment.
As an Old One artifact completely corrupted by Chaos, the Ouroboros was now silent, having lost all subjective ability to act, making it extremely easy to secure.
Gravity tractors slowly pulled the wreckage of Caliban.
All troops participating in this operation were withdrawing toward the rift.
"I still don't understand."
Watching the rift approaching, the Lion, aboard the relic cruiser Silent Vow from the future, couldn't help but ask Arthur beside him.
"Why must we return to ten thousand years later? Isn't it better for you to stay here?"
With these four brothers, he believed that after ten thousand years, the situation would only be better.
However, before Arthur could reply, Ramesses' voice rang out.
"First, we can't abandon everything we have now to reopen a so-called new timeline. That would be irresponsible and too nonsensical. Second, according to a series of arguments, we can't change anything anyway. Otherwise, Arthur would just be in solitary confinement with you over there."
What do you mean 'solitary confinement'? Is working with me such a disastrous thing?
The Lion looked at Arthur. Arthur pondered for a moment, then nodded.
"Yes."
"..."
"Of course, you can also wait for us for ten thousand years, try to stir the Imperium into better shape, or try to save Guilliman from Fulgrim's blade. If it's a Primarch, maybe you can really change something."
Ramesses' tone was very indifferent, as if whatever choice the Lion made had no effect on them.
"When the time comes, remember to pick us up in the Pielde Sector, right next to Curze's hometown. If you can still move by then."
"Forget it then."
The Lion shook his head quickly.
Letting him deal with Guilliman and Dorn alone... spare him. And he really didn't have the patience for ruling, especially for ten thousand years.
The beheaded High Lords of Ultramar had a lot to say about this.
"Then why talk about this?"
Ramesses signaled The Rock to activate the guidance beacon.
"Come over."
The mighty fleet, dragging the fragments of Caliban, began to cross the rift step by step.
"No, it can't be like this!"
Nurgle hammered the cauldron hard, watching all this.
He was so angry at this moment.
At Himself, and at the current situation.
Greed was insufficient; cleverness overreached itself.
Now this group of Dark Angels was about to abandon their historical mission and go directly to the future.
Then what changes would occur in these ten thousand years? How ethereal would the future become?
Nurgle glared at the nemesis who had been winning big since the appearance of the Dawnbreakers.
"Absolutely possible, easily possible!"
Far away in another labyrinth forged of crystal, Tzeentch's eyes stared fixedly at the scene of the 30k era, clenching His fists in excitement.
Change. This was a unique change.
The Lord of Change excitedly clenched His constantly changing tentacles. Eyes appearing and disappearing stared at these warships—some sunk, some abandoned, or some still in service in the future—slowly passing through the rift that appeared due to an unreproducible miracle.
As the mastermind behind this series of coincidences, what He looked forward to most was the alteration of this destined moment in history.
He began to anticipate what changes such an act would bestow upon the future, how much He could glean from it, and whether it could become a joke allowing Him to mock the Plague Lord for eons in the Great Game.
Ships carrying the past crossed the rift, dragging fragments of the past.
The moment they crossed the rift, the passage of time applied itself. Some ships developed cracks; some remained unscathed.
Fortunately, the history of the Dark Angels was unbroken. Ramesses and the others could check the archives within The Rock, screen these ships, and relocate the population to other ships in advance, thus preventing possible accidents.
Inside those undamaged ships, space began to overlap. Two identical ships merged. People could clearly witness several individuals appearing beside them, squeezing them aside.
This was an extremely complex space-time change. Fortunately, each ship could complete complex calculations with the assistance of the Dawnstar Sector fleet, preventing people from getting stuck in walls or merging into each other.
There were also ships that should have been far away in other sectors of the galaxy, but now safely dragged fragments and stayed in the designated area. These ships were not destroyed in history, nor were they interfered with by the Dawnbreakers in the 40k era, still safely executing their missions.
Now, there was another identical ship in the galaxy.
All these changes were restricted to this cosmic space occupied by the Dawnbreakers, this space-time directly interfered with by the Dawnbreakers.
"Damn it, if I knew earlier, I wouldn't have recalled the Successor Chapters, nor should I have contacted the Dark Angels Chapters too much."
Ramesses clutched his chest, looking heartbroken.
"If we hadn't contacted the Invincible Reason, maybe we could have just gotten two of them. Then you and the Lion would have one each. No need to build Avalon; my Radiant Temple could start work early."
"No one knew about this."
Watching the Lion falling into silence, his whole person starting to become illusory, Arthur comforted:
"Check the headcount first, report it."
"People are fine. The soul as an anchor has the highest priority. Even Caliban is like this because of the Ouroboros. Looking at it this way, machine spirits really can't be counted as intelligent life in the strict sense..."
Replying, Ramesses muttered, beginning to check the mental health status of those Firstborn Space Marines.
On the deliberately adjusted ships, cracks began to appear on the armor of some Dark Angels. Compared to those members from the future, they all fell into a trance.
They were rapidly experiencing the second half of their lives.
The disappearance of the Lion, the division of the Legion, the mental breakdown, the gradually obsessive style...
Their latter half of life integrated into the souls of the Dark Angels, fixing them firmly in place.
In the end, they were alive.
Ten thousand years were compressed into this instant, reforging their souls, but their bodies themselves were locked in the final state when they contacted Arthur.
This was the only change, the only difference.
"Redloss? Redloss..."
Following the call of his comrade, Redloss finally opened his eyes, escaping his consciousness. What he saw was Corswain watching him closely.
Redloss quickly took a step back.
Unfortunately, he was sitting on a chair. The powerful thrust given to the chair by his toes plowed a deep groove in the floor on this chair fixed to the adamantium deck.
"Seems you're in good physical condition."
Kay couldn't help laughing: "And we don't need to dig you out of the Chapter graveyard."
"..."
Redloss ignored Kay's words, his eyes still fixed on Corswain.
These people didn't deliberately hide any news from him. Although always accompanied by sarcasm, he knew that he was the first Supreme Grand Master of the Dark Angels after the Lion's disappearance.
He established the Interrogator-Chaplains, founded the new Inner Circle, set the policy of hunting the Fallen, and finally died at the hands of the Fallen.
Now, Redloss knew how he died.
Just as history stated, the Fallen murdered him.
And the only Dark Angel capable of killing this Dreadwing Grand Master silently... was only one.
The one right in front of him!
You didn't just want to kill me; you actually killed me?!
No wonder this guy had zero psychological burden when threatening him.
Tortured to death by emotions concentrated in an instant, Redloss finally regained control of his mouth and was about to question.
"Where is the Lion? How is the Lion?"
Before the words could come out, he heard someone suddenly ask loudly in a state of unclear consciousness.
'Right, the Lion! And the Lion!'
Regaining control of his body almost instantly, Redloss immediately pressed the vox, completely forgetting the question already on his lips, and began contacting the Lion who was on the Silent Vow with Arthur.
"The Lion remains."
Arthur's steady voice rang out.
Following it was the image synchronized to the command systems of each bridge.
The Lion's body changed between virtual and real. One could vaguely see a forest in illusion.
He seemed to be undergoing a trial. Various emotions appeared on his constantly changing face—roaring, excitement, tears...
'Guilliman, return my Legion!'
'Sanguinius, I'm sorry. I should have chosen to go with you.'
'Hehe, you must be a fake tempting me to fall. Magnus doesn't hit this hard.'
'No, Father, I didn't abandon my duty, I just—'
'Even Russ!'
A series of words, as if responding to countless faces, spouted from the Lion's mouth. His face became old. Unlike most Space Marines, as he continued to respond, this Primarch actually began to experience aging.
After a long time, under the apprehensive gazes of countless Dark Angels, the Lion's body began to solidify.
He opened his eyes.
Eyes that condensed ten thousand years in an instant looked at Arthur.
The words hovering around him were so dazzling.
The Lion was stunned, finally touching the Lion Sword at his waist, clutching it tightly as if finally touching something real.
Clatter~
The Lion looked at Arthur, his expression so complex at this moment.
"Long time no see."
Arthur reached out first, not asking what he had experienced in these ten thousand years.
"...Long time no see."
The Lion reached out, trying not to look at those words, and replied.
"Long time no see, brother."
Looking at Arthur, who was no different from his impression, he let out a long breath.
"Seems like these ten thousand years haven't been good?"
Seeing the Lion's emotions stabilize, Arthur spoke.
"..."
The Lion paused, not knowing how to reply.
Logically, ten thousand years meant nothing to a Primarch. The manifestation of a Primarch's body was more about mentality. Corax soaked in the Warp for who knows how long without showing signs of aging.
But the Lion really felt like he had aged, like he should be eliminated.
Recalling the Emperor's words, he dared not imagine that the existence who had become a monster was his father.
Lips covered by a beard trembled. The Lion finally sighed and waved his hand.
Ironically, among the insiders present, apart from Arthur and Ramesses—his true rivals—who felt he could be salvaged, everyone else, including the Emperor, wished him dead.
This was too big a blow for a Primarch who dedicated everything to the Emperor's great cause.
"Don't mind it too much. The Emperor is pure senile dementia. Just treat his words as farts. Don't even mention those charmed by the Emperor; they all believe in religion. Don't count on the brains of such people."
Noticing the Lion's state, Ramesses, guessing the Lion's encounter in a second, cursed the Emperor as a pig teammate, then spoke.
Rough words, but reasonable.
These 'geniuses' of the Imperium, under the god-tier system plus the rotten environment and Chaos influence, gradually figured out a unique methodology exclusive to themselves in this universe—
That is: Kill!
There is no problem in this world that cannot be solved. If there is, it's because not enough killing was done.
Many measures will move towards extremism under multiple influences. This is why the Dawnbreakers only dare to do things under their own watch.
Everyone often feels extremely headache about these 'teammates'. You can't say they aren't loyal; they are very loyal. But the things they do... can be said to be worse than rebellion.
Not even willing to try a chance for reform. From the Emperor down to the commoners, one word 'Kill' solves problems. It's hard to say if it can get better in the future.
Damn it, we salvaged the edgelords of 30k, and the Golden Geezer spent another ten thousand years making people depressed!
"..."
Hearing this familiar tone, a difficult expression appeared on the Lion's face again.
Well, Ramesses' talent can make people angry, make people happy, but it's just hard to make people sad.
"What about our Legion?"
Daring not to comment much on the Emperor who tortured him for ten thousand years, the Lion wisely chose to change the subject.
At least these two brothers hadn't changed.
The Lion thought so, and a presence named security enveloped him again.
"Everything is fine."
Arthur replied calmly, then began to record and compile the organization.
Excess Caliban civilians needed to be settled. Considering their particularity, it was best to transfer them to the Dawnstar Sector via the Webway. As for the Dark Angels, they could be absorbed directly. Contemporary Dark Angels were all Apothecaries on average; just let acquaintances perform the surgery and then record them into the combat establishment.
Yes, that's it. Peaceful, humorous, speaking up for justice.
No pure verbal abuse, no pure malicious treatment, no torture of the soul. The biggest difference between these partners and those existences—is that those existences will destroy a thing if they are dissatisfied with it.
And the partners are trying to change, hoping a person, a thing can become better.
Having calmed down, the Lion's gaze finally left the busy Arthur.
He looked out the window at the starry sky, which was extremely unfamiliar to him now.
After a brief pause, the warships continued to move, dragging the Caliban fragments to a specific area. Under the action of gravity, these fragments would aggregate again and be reassembled after modification by gravity tractors.
Next, let Romulus organize the nearby Mechanicus to come over and build it into a Fortress World. Then train the Lion in Warp knowledge. Once he can perfectly control his abilities, start the "Wandering Caliban Plan".
After doing all this, the fleet will re-enter the Webway and head to Ultramar for support.
This was all they did.
Everything was so simple, no accidents.
They achieved their goal.
And the past remained unchanged.
Bang!
Tzeentch smashed the mirror.
A look of horror appeared on the face of Isha, the Goddess of Life, as if she had encountered something that overturned her worldview.
Nurgle didn't notice Isha's expression. After a brief stun, realizing someone else was also unlucky, his face changed immediately, letting out a hearty laugh.
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