The Space Wolves' raid on the Rangdan staging base had yielded significant results, even as their gene-primarch hovered on the precipice of life and death.
Beneath another stretch of the starry expanse, the Blood Angels fleet sailed at high velocity.
The Blood Angels had intercepted and destroyed a Rangdan reserve fleet, pushing deep into the territory of the Rangdan Empire to succeed the Dark Angels in dismantling the xenos' industrial capacity.
This swift devastation quickly provoked a retaliatory encirclement by the Rangdan forces. Abandoning their deployment to the front lines, the Rangdan gathered into massive battlefleets to hunt down the Blood Angels.
Utilizing his psychic prophecies, Sanguinius boldly implemented a "leapfrog tactic," bypassing heavily garrisoned Rangdan sectors to launch surprise strikes on secondary worlds. While their triumphs were substantial, the Blood Angels fleet sustained heavy casualties in the process.
Navigating urgently under the pressure of the pursuit, the fleet arrived at an uncharted sector of space. Intelligence from both the Rangdan and human sides indicated that this stellar region was sparsely populated with stars and was classified as a low-value zone.
"The auspex arrays report signs of civilization within scanning range," a Tech-Marine reported, manipulating a holographic panel to project the real-time feed onto the command dais as he detailed the situation.
The solar system's yellow star was in its prime, orbited by six planets. The fifth world was a swirl of yellow and green, possessing vast plains, magnificent mountain ranges, a stable ecosystem, and clear indicators of life.
A second sweep of the auspex reported that the planet harbored only a small population of humans, yet it was rife with the ruins of a civilization. The data indicated that these remnants still showed signs of activity within the last century.
Sanguinius felt a sudden stir within his chest, a flash of joy and inquiry gleaming in the depths of his eyes as a distinct, bloodline-born resonance welled up in his soul.
"Approach the orbital path of that world. Prepare for a planetary drop."
Hearing the gene-primarch's command, the helmsman shifted the steering column, maneuvering the Red Tear to change course through the cosmos.
"My Lord," Raldoron stepped forward, inquiring, "have you discovered something?"
As the First Captain of the Legion, only the Sanguinary Guard stood between him and the gene-primarch, allowing him to observe his genetic father at all times. It was evident that he had once again read something unusual across the Primarch's features.
Sanguinius glanced at his scion, a warm smile gracing his magnificent face. He offered no verbal answer, merely curling the corners of his lips as he shook his head. Receiving no reply, Raldoron stepped back into the ranks, waiting for the moment the mystery would be unveiled.
Since entering Rangdan territory, the Primarch had issued far too many seemingly incomprehensible directives, yet each had led the Legion to unexpected victories and guided them out of dense enemy encirclements. This time would likely be just another ordinary day. They had no need to question; they only needed to wait quietly for the truth to reveal itself.
The Blood Angels fleet advanced with extreme speed. Following a short-range warp jump, they cut inward from the outer edge of the system to enter a synchronous orbit around the planet. The Red Tear anchored itself in the planet's low orbit, the shadow cast by the massive fleet resembling a pack of leviathans poised to swallow the world whole. The Gloriana-class battleship deployed landing craft from its ventral bays, and the Blood Angels began their descent.
The drop craft touched down within a sprawling ruin. Flanked by the Sanguinary Guard, Sanguinius stepped out from the bay, surveying the remnants left behind by this civilization.
Before them lay a large town, its neatly terraced stone structures cascading down a gentle hillside, culminating in a grand stone temple at the summit.
"The environmental data matches the auspex sweeps, with a variance of less than one in a billion," a Tech-Marine stated, removing his helm. "The gravity and atmosphere of this world are perfectly suited for human survival." As he spoke, he released servo-skulls to probe into the historical ruins.
Sanguinius walked over to a stone dwelling, noting profound geometric motifs upon the lintel and intricate carvings flanking the entrance. Such discoveries indicated that prior to its destruction, the civilization that constructed this city possessed advanced intellect capable of comprehending abstract concepts.
He knelt down, his gaze fixing upon a skeletal remain slumped against the interior walls. Due to the passage of time, the bones had become desiccated and withered; and because the world was currently in its summer season, a layer of yellow moss had crept over them. The moisture-laden skin, resembling withered bark, allowed the yellow moss to sprout from the dry torso, drawing upon whatever residual nutrients remained. The skull of the framework was still intact, but it was impossible to discern the race. The face had been shattered, with only a few ligaments remaining at the jawline, loosely holding together fragmented shards of bone.
Sanguinius gestured for the Tech-Marine to utilize technical means to analyze the species' genetic makeup and biological structure. He rose and looked up toward the stone temple situated halfway up the mountain, noting that the path was rife with the scars of battle, xenos corpses strewn across the stone steps. From the nature of the combat marks, it was not difficult to deduce that they had been besieging a powerful entity before being slaughtered.
Relying on his Primarch eyesight, Sanguinius discovered another anomaly. He stepped forward quickly, running his hand along the wall of a stone house; the omnipresent yellow moss, growing wild everywhere else, had pointedly avoided this single patch. Despite the long passage of time, Sanguinius could still feel a lingering heat emanating from the spot where life refused to approach. Taking a few steps back, he realized the discoloration was a scorch mark.
"My Lord."
The Tech-Marine approached, his data slate projecting a holographic display of a xenos organism floating in the air. The rendering of the xenos had been reconstructed, vividly lifelike.
It bore a striking resemblance to a terran ram. It walked upon powerful lower limbs with counter-flexed joints ending in hooves, built for running. Its spine was exceptionally long; the native species possessed a highly muscular upper torso, and its hands bore three digits capable of wielding tools. A pair of massive horn structures grew from its caprine head, which possessed a considerable cranial capacity indicative of advanced intellect.
The entire body was insulated in thick fur to withstand the planet's freezing nights. Counting the massive horns, the xenos stood over three meters tall, its shoulder-to-width ratio staggering and its musculature highly developed. Genetic analysis indicated it was capable of lifting a metric ton.
"My Lord!"
A scout returned in haste, jogging up to the gene-primarch while holding a stone pot: "Found inside one of the xenos dwellings."
Sanguinius peered into the stone pot, his handsome visage darkening instantly as his fists clenched with an audible screech of metal. Inside the pot lay the curled skeleton of a human, a puncture wound visible in the skull—evident proof that she had died before being placed in the vessel. Near the pelvic region of the remains, a tiny skeleton lay similarly curled.
"Accursed xenos!" Sanguinius spat a curse, turning to his legionaries: "Give them a proper burial."
"Once that is complete, return to the Red Tear." He turned and pointed into the distance: "The Sanguinary Guard will accompany me to search for survivors further out."
The Tech-Marines and scouts saluted: "We obey your command."
The landing craft took flight once more, navigating toward human settlements in accordance with the shipboard auspex coordinates.
Across a fertile valley bordering a lakeside, the human population had long since emerged from their dwellings. Wielding iron anchors and archaic firearms, they stood in battle array outside the gates of their fortified settlement. The sky above was dense with colossal artificial constructs; according to the lore passed down by their ancestors, those things were called "voidships." They were built to traverse the stars, possessing a raw might capable of bringing worlds to heel.
As they watched the heavens, their attention was drawn by a sudden thundering roar as a dark speck rapidly approached from the horizon. As it drew closer, the people realized it was not a speck, but a blood-red aircraft. Seeing the golden human skulls emblazoned across the front and flanks of the craft, the crowd grew visibly tense.
In their understanding, a skull was synonymous with death. On this world, only the caprine xenos wore human skulls as trophies, hanging them from their persons to flaunt their kills.
Gripping their weapons tighter, the crowd instinctively moved closer to the towering figure standing at the vanguard of their line.
The aircraft touched down slowly, the powerful downdraft causing the defenders to sway and instinctively close their eyes. When they opened them again, the blood-red outer ramp had already descended. Amidst the play of light and venting steam, human figures stepped out from the interior bay. Their footsteps were perfectly synchronized, the heavy ring of iron weighing upon the nerves of every onlooker.
The lakeside breeze swept past gently, clearing away the steam to finally reveal the identity of the newcomers. The people froze in unison, having never before gazed upon an individual of such absolute perfection.
The newcomer was towering in stature, his golden hair catching the wind, his eyes resembling two brilliant sapphires—radiant and dazzling. He wore golden armor encrusted with rubies, his visage noble and beautiful, bearing an exceptionally polite smile that immediately made one feel as though they were basking in a warm spring breeze. Even more impossible to ignore was the pair of snow-white wings folded behind him, pure and flawless, looking precisely like the angels birthed from human myth.
Yet, upon beholding that pair of white wings, the people snapped out of the trance induced by Sanguinius's beauty.
Mutant!
That single thought dominated their minds, a primal revulsion toward an extra limb that had no place upon the human form. The surviving texts left by their ancestors explicitly detailed: Humanity must remain pure and unblemished; genetic alteration is heresy.
The towering figure standing before the crowd stepped forward, facing the unknown visitors directly: "Who are you?"
His voice was clear and resonant. Even though the tone was exceptionally stern, filled with resistance and hostility, it could not mask the inherent purity within it.
Sanguinius did not offer an immediate reply, instead studying the individual before him with close scrutiny. The man was as towering as himself, draped in furs with heavily muscled limbs, his hands tightly gripping an iron-studded mace.
His facial features were obscured; he wore the massive horns of a caprine xenos upon his head, using the ram skull as a mask to conceal his visage. Only through the gaps of the skull could a few locks of crimson hair be seen, looking like flickering strands of burning flame.
"I am Sanguinius, of the Imperium of Man."
"Nachiel Selene," the man answered in a rough, halting Low Gothic, his pronunciation slightly stiff.